A Passionate Love Affair with a Total Stranger

by Lucy Robinson

  I knew how happy he had been lately and – just for a fleeting second – it occurred to me that maybe I did want to do something. Deep inside I knew that it wasn’t healthy to have a job that ruled your life. I knew that it wasn’t right to work manically when your grandmother had died. Sam was now working every day yet he had … freedom. And a lightness about him that I knew I didn’t have.

  But the window of possibility soon closed. My situation was the opposite of his. It was all very well for Sam to throw himself into First Date Aid and clean living and auditions and exercise because he fancied a change. But he had started with a baseline of boredom, laziness and low income. He had nothing to lose. I was starting with a baseline of money, achievement and responsibility. I had everything to lose.

  So I shook my head. ‘My work is too important. I know you can’t understand, Sam, but please don’t give me a hard time about it. It’s essential to me and that’s just how it is.’

  I pulled the duvet over my head and Sam left my room. I heard him sit down on the sofa and imagined him, chin resting in his hands, trying to work out what to do with me. I hated that thought. Hated it.

  I resolved to keep my work activities more private from now on. Sam knew too much about me, these days; he had too many opinions on my lifestyle. I didn’t like it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Morning, Charley,’ Graham from Security shouted as I passed through the gates.

  I hadn’t been struck off the staff list yet, then.

  ‘Stay calm, stay calm,’ I said, under my breath, as I parked. Being at home with my family yesterday had been devastatingly sad, and now I felt even more vulnerable to Margot’s hate campaign than I had on Friday. It hadn’t helped that John hadn’t called me all weekend. According to him, Susan had been moving out on Saturday. So why no call on Sunday? Had she changed her mind? Had he?

  As I walked into the lift I felt panic and dread ratchet themselves up to the next level. I had no battle plan, no defence, nothing. There was nothing I could do to stop Margot revealing my secret and there was nothing I could do if John had decided that we weren’t meant to be. The feeling of powerlessness was quite devastating.

  ‘Morning,’ Margot said, marching into my office a few minutes later. She closed the door behind her. ‘So, what are your thoughts about the week ahead?’

  I studied her nervously. ‘What do you mean, what are my thoughts?’

  ‘I’m referring back to our little chat, Charley. But if you need your memory refreshing, here’s a recap: I want you out of the way. I want you to stop taking a shit on me so I can show this company what I can do.’

  ‘I have never “taken a shit” on you,’ I replied slowly. ‘In fact, the only time I’ve been anything other than supportive of you was when you refused to give my job back.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Margot said, looking bored. ‘You know what’s going to happen if you don’t co-operate. I’ll call Bradley Chambers and he’ll sack you. Sound good?’

  I imagined Chambers’s call to me after he’d learned of my misdeeds: ‘You mean, Sharon, that you’ve been given the opportunity to control the public face of the UK’s largest biotech pharma and you choose to write online love letters instead? I’m sorry, Sharon, I just don’t believe it! You’re our brightest star!’

  But, either way, you’re out of the door, would come next.

  ‘What’s on your agenda?’ I asked Margot, unable to disguise my fear.

  She sat down. ‘Well, I’d like to take over communicating with the other European offices,’ she said. ‘I want to be their main liaison.’

  I shrugged in as noncommittal a fashion as I could muster. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘The doctors’ conference next week. I want to do it.’

  I breathed out, relieved. This was something that an inexperienced person simply could not run. John would never agree to it.

  Margot continued to list jobs that she would never be allowed to do. But she must have read my thoughts because she broke off with a murderous look on her face. ‘If you’re thinking John’ll never let me do these things, Charley, you’d better think again. It’s your job to find a way of getting me in on them.’

  Fear returned. She’ll stop at nothing. If I don’t come up with a plan very bloody quickly I’ll be on the dole. And that prospect – which seemed more real and possible as each minute passed – made me feel quite desperate. Seriously, what would I do if I lost my job? How would it feel to have to stand in front of John and nod meekly when he told me he had no option but to let me go? And how would our relationship ever survive that? It wouldn’t. It would be impossible to overcome. My lover, who’d sacked me. No way.

  ‘Right,’ I said to Margot, trying to sound decisive and calm. I sounded neither. ‘Is that it?’

  Margot smiled, sliding her pen into her mouth in a way that I found rather disgusting. ‘Actually, no,’ she said. ‘I was thinking I might just take a free trial of the services on offer at First Date Aid.’

  I went cold. ‘As I said to you, I don’t work on First Date Aid any more. I set it up while I was off sick and now I’ve handed it over. You’d have to deal with Sam.’

  ‘Oh, but I want you, Charley.’ She gave a tinkling little laugh, perhaps the most evil noise I’d ever heard. ‘Tell you what,’ she added conspiratorially. ‘There’s a man I liked the look of. I’ll show you his profile and you can get going, eh?’

  ‘No,’ I said obstinately. ‘You could use this to frame me. Forget it.’

  Margot laughed again, louder this time. ‘Oh, Charley, I have enough evidence to frame you a thousand times over. I’ve got all those disgusting, pathetic messages between you and John, for starters. And in legal proceedings I think you’d struggle to prove that you are not the “Charlotte” whose name is on the website, eh?’

  ‘How did you get my personal messages?’

  ‘I gave Keith from IT a hand job,’ she said conversationally. ‘Now, if you pull up love.com, I’ll find the man in question for you. Shouldn’t take long – he’s online all the time, he –’

  ‘What? You gave someone a hand job for access to my account?’

  Margot laughed the toxic laugh again. ‘I like sex, Charley,’ she said. ‘And, what’s more, I like it with as many different men as possible. Oh dear, what a pervert, eh? How will uptight Charley Lambert, who probably only gets naked once a year, take orders from someone who actually likes sex? Hey?’

  I was absolutely astounded.

  ‘Let’s have a look at this chap, then,’ Margot said, leaning across me to open up love.com. ‘I can write messages to men on adult friend finder in my sleep,’ she said, typing in her login details. ‘But it’s the normals I struggle with, Charley. The boring twats on run-of-the-mill dating sites. People like you.’

  I laughed hollowly. I was under the control of a psychopath.

  But then Margot’s latest object of desire loaded up on the screen and I stopped finding it funny.

  Because there, smiling out at me, was Matty. ‘Online now!’ his profile announced merrily. I felt the world close around me just a bit tighter.

  ‘He looks a bit enthusiastic for me,’ she continued. ‘I prefer them with a little hint of darkness. But he’s dirty. I can spot it a mile off.’

  ‘How?’ I whispered incredulously.

  ‘Oh, I’ve slept with hundreds like him. This guy is the sort that fucks strangers and then runs off to wifey for his lasagne.’

  I felt even sicker. My beloved Hailey … who was possibly pregnant. Oh, God.

  I needed more information. ‘Is he the one you were talking about when you said he’s online all the time?’

  ‘Correct. He’s always there.’

  I wanted to cry.

  ‘Send him a few lines this morning, won’t you?’ Margot said lightly. ‘I’m free on Wednesday night.’ And, with that, she swept out of my office.

  I stared, trance-like, at my computer. I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do. All I could think of was Hai
ley’s ecstatic face when she’d told us she was moving in with Matty. Could Margot ruin my life and Hailey’s?

  Yes, I thought. I put my head into my hands, wishing that I could somehow unplug myself and hibernate for a while.

  My bag vibrated and I fished out my phone, grateful for any sort of a distraction from the present.

  It was Shelley.

  ‘Hi, Shelley,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Ah, hello,’ she said. She was not roaring and I knew instantly that something was wrong. It turned out that since she had left William’s house on Saturday morning she had not heard from him. ‘I don’t quite know what to do,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I wondered if you had any tips.’

  Her voice was loaded with embarrassment and I felt a great empathy. Poor Shelley, so desperate for reassurance that she was prepared to risk the humiliation of calling me. I imagined her in her office, paralysed, unable to concentrate on anything beyond her mobile phone. And, once again, I realized that Shelley Cartwright and I were in the same boat: sitting at our desks, frozen with fear, waiting for something to happen.

  ‘Actually, Shelley, I’m in the same situation,’ I said, surprising myself. ‘I’m still waiting for a man to call. He should have called me on Saturday night. But call he will, if he’s the right man. I’ve just got to sit it out and not let my life grind to a halt in the meantime.’

  I sat back, surprised by my wisdom. Maybe I would work as a dating coach if I got booted out of Salutech.

  Shelley sounded taken aback. ‘Oh, sorry to hear it.’ Her attempt at camaraderie was comically gruff. ‘I’m sure he’ll call you.’

  ‘Likewise, Shelley,’ I said gently. ‘William really liked you. If I know anything, I know that.’

  I heard her breathe out nervously. ‘I hope so, Charlotte,’ she said. ‘I hope so.’

  And within seconds of ending the call, I got what I’d been waiting for all weekend: Lambert. Office. Now. XXX

  The relief was like a deluge. So heavy, in fact, that I began to feel slightly uncomfortable that John had so much power over me. Oh, come on, it’s normal to be in this place, I told myself, thinking of Shelley. We’re all the same. Mental.

  Before I went to see John I called Sam and asked him to find out why William hadn’t called Shelley. For whatever reason, William and Shelley had begun to matter to me rather a lot. But as I swung round the corner towards John’s office, I forgot all about them. All I wanted to know at this point was that Susan had now left the country. I wanted talk of futures. Then at least I’d have something good on the boil.

  ‘Ah, Charley, good morning,’ John said, in a business voice. The door was in the process of closing behind me and his PA Becky would be able to hear everything we said until it shut. Until the catch clicked behind me I couldn’t even look at him.

  ‘She’s gone,’ he said quietly. ‘And divorce proceedings are well under way. I’m yours, Lambert. Yours to do with what you will.

  ‘It’s true!’ he continued, when I found myself dumb. ‘I’ve been thinking about you all weekend, Lambert. Barely been able to stop wanking,’ he added, as if commenting on the weather.

  I tried not to grin but it happened anyway. ‘Why didn’t you call me, then?’ I asked, immediately hating myself. I’d always been his warrior, the fearless Amazon of Salutech. I couldn’t stand being needy.

  John merely smiled wider. ‘Because, Lambert, Susan had several tonnes of stupid clothes and her move took longer than it should have done.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry it … er, ended,’ I said lamely. I was nothing of the sort.

  ‘Oh, shhh, Lambert,’ John said. ‘Marrying her was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Schoolboy reasoning. Marry one woman to forget about another? Insane! But it all worked out as it should have done in the end.’ He got up from his desk and guided me round to his sofa area, which wasn’t visible from Becky’s desk. I shivered at the feel of his hand on the small of my back. In spite of all the darkness, I felt suddenly compelled to rip my suit off, yelling, ‘RUMP ME NOW!’ I resisted this temptation.

  John sat down and ran his hands through his hair. ‘It’s a bit messy,’ he acknowledged, ‘but she wants a quick divorce. Soon it’ll be just you and me, Lambert, stomping around that bloody loch and having furious sex all the time. Sound good?’

  I was enthralled by this idea. It felt like a fairy tale. A slightly dysfunctional one, but a fairy tale all the same. Charley Lambert was getting her handsome prince.

  ‘Could I possibly have a quick feel of your magnificent breasts?’ John asked. His eyes were twinkling with mischief.

  ‘Can’t you allow a girl even a few seconds of romance, John?’

  John looked impish and naughty. ‘It’s your fault, Lambert. You shouldn’t be so bloody divine to look at and clever at your job.’

  I beamed foolishly, in spite of my best efforts not to.

  ‘Could we quickly fuck in a cupboard?’ he asked hopefully.

  My warm glow diminished a little. ‘No!’

  ‘Toilets?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Could I maybe just have a quick feel of your bottom?’

  ‘John!’

  He looked comically guilty and then something far more sincere came over him. He leaned forward and gave me a long, lingering kiss. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Seven years’ waiting turns a man to madness.’

  I felt a bit safer and smiled my forgiveness.

  ‘Could I interest you in some egg on toast in the canteen?’ he asked.

  We spent our first thirty-five minutes as a couple eating hard scrambled eggs with cold toast in an empty canteen with a view of the A1. I told him about Granny Helen and how worried I was about Dad, and he told me how stupid he felt about having married the wrong woman.

  I went back to my desk with a tiny bit more confidence. Maybe there was a solution to this mess with Margot. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

  Sam called mid-morning to tell me he had spoken to William, who was on the phone right now ordering Interflora’s most extravagant bouquet for Shelley. ‘Someone told him you’re meant to wait until Tuesday to call,’ Sam said, exasperated. ‘Where the fuck do they get their ideas from? I think we should write a handbook, Chas.’

  I smiled weakly. ‘It’s nice to be helping them, though.’

  He agreed, but said that it was all a bit time-consuming in his opinion.

  He had a point. ‘You’re right, actually, Bowes,’ I said. ‘Why are we putting so much effort into William and Shelley? Why does it matter so much that they get together?’

  Sam hesitated, and when he answered, he rather knocked the wind out of me. ‘Because we can’t be, I suppose. Together.’

  A big silence opened on the line between us. Sam was absolutely right. We couldn’t be together. Ever. It was biologically impossible. Yet we both knew that something big and important had passed between us, and we were willing to channel it into the correct place. How touching, I thought. And how true. Shelley and William had to fall in love because Sam and I can’t.

  It was simple and it was lovely.

  ‘You’re right, Bowes,’ I said slowly. ‘I hadn’t thought about it like that.’

  I heard him smile. ‘Have a good afternoon, Chas,’ he said gently. ‘Don’t let those bastards get you down. You’re better than them.’

  I ended the call. Samuel Bowes was full of surprises.

  Then Margot marched into my office and the moment was gone.

  ‘I want to schedule a meeting this afternoon,’ she announced, ‘in which you can start handing over the projects I want.’

  I took a deep breath. I had worked out which projects I could give to her without compromising my job but the doctors’ conference was impossible. I’d tried suggesting to John that Margot ran it ‘as a gesture for her recent hard work’, but he’d just laughed. ‘Of course she fucking can’t!’ he said. ‘I’d sooner leave your parents’ Labrador in charge of the fucking thing, Lambert!’

  I tried to relay a watered
-down version of this to Margot but she wasn’t interested. ‘Sort it out,’ she said.

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  ‘So, have you emailed that man for me yet?’ she asked, switching the nasty smile back on.

  I felt even more depressed. Matty.

  I had checked his profile a few times and each time he was online, his round, earnest little face beaming out at me from the computer. I’d been driven insane trying to work out what was going on. Apart from anything else, he was working in a wild garden in the wilds of Fife where, even if he sat on top of a telegraph pole, he wouldn’t stand a chance of finding phone signal. It made no sense. Why are you doing this? I’d raged silently at his picture.

  ‘I didn’t email him, no,’ I told Margot. ‘You said he looked married. I just … needed to be sure that you definitely want to go there.’

  Margot laughed, a nasty sound. ‘You don’t just have a rod up your arse,’ she told me. ‘You have a fucking truncheon. Just send him a first approach – now,’ she added, ‘and forget about the rest. None of your business.’

  But it was my business. It was very much my business. Margot raised her eyebrows. ‘One call to Chambers!’ she whispered. ‘Just do it!’

  So I did.

  The afternoon passed in an unpleasant blur. I handed over the less important jobs to Margot, reasoning with myself that if I wasn’t a control freak I’d have given them to her anyway. The major projects I held back and panicked over.

  The high point of the afternoon was when an ecstatic (but still bellowingly loud) Shelley called to tell me that William had sent her flowers. ‘SOME ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC PEONIES IN THIS BOUQUET!’ she yelled.

  But then she threw something at me that I hadn’t been expecting. During her uncomfortable hours waiting for a sign of life from William, she had logged on to our First Date Aid website, as if this might bring the object of her desire closer.

  ‘I wanted to ask about your partner,’ Shelley barked. ‘The one who’s taken over from you. Now, I presume, from what you said about waiting to hear from a man over the weekend, that Sam is a partner only in the business sense.’