by Rhoda Baxter
Nearly sorted out a flat too. On the 72nd floor. Fantastic view.
All go, go, go.
Tom
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Sounds great. The dream job is turning out to be as good as expected then.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
It is all good here, at least it would be if the insomnia and headaches weren't back. It's a pain because I'm so busy that when I do get to bed I'm exhausted. Then I can't sleep.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Have you tried having a nightcap before bed?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Tried that. No effect.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
I'm sure it'll get better. It's all worth it to be living the dream.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
The thing about living the dream is that it doesn't feel like I expected it to. I mean, it all sounds great. The job's interesting, the salary package is great, the flat is amazing etc etc, but it all feels a little...hollow. I just can't get worked up about it anymore. It's like I'm living someone else's life for a while and I'll have to give it back. It doesn't feel REAL.
I'm not sure what I thought would happen, but I was expecting to feel happier than this.
I miss Stevie. I think about her all the time. When I'm not busy thinking about work, she's in my head. Actually, I catch myself thinking about her even when I AM supposed to be thinking about work. It's like she's waiting there all the time, at the back of my mind. I keep seeing things and wishing I could share it with her. It's crazy. I only knew her for a few weeks and I feel like I've lost something that was always there.
I hate to admit it, but I've rather lost interest in women too. I've been introduced to some stunning girls over here. Stunning and...er...willing. But I can't bring myself to care.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Oh dear. You do have it bad.
Have you been in touch with her?
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
I emailed her once. She didn't reply. I think it's probably best if we didn't start talking. It'd only make things worse. Like picking a scab.
God, I knew this love stuff was a bad idea. I wish I'd just stuck to lust. Things were okay then.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
'Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all--apparently.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
That's just bollocks.
* * * *
From: Louise Edwards
To: Stevie Winfield
Lunch next Wednesday?
How are things going? I haven't seen you in about a month.
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Louise Edwards
I can do next Wednesday. That would be lovely.
One anniversary party commission in the bag. I've done quotes for two more events and waiting to hear back.
Evelyn's charity ball turned out to be a gold mine!
##
From: Louise Edwards
To: Stevie Winfield
Wow, that's an incredible start. What are you doing? Undercutting everyone else?
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Louise Edwards
Not particularly (although I think Evelyn's told people I'm good with a tight budget). I think the ball just had the right sort of people there. And, I found out that LADY BERYL had recommended me to someone! I thought she hated me!
All the jobs are in and around Oxford at the moment, but that's fine. It's not exactly difficult to get there from here. And, if these go well, I might even be able to afford a car and driving lessons.
##
From: Louise Edwards
To: Stevie Winfield
That's brilliant.
And how are things otherwise? Have you heard from Tom since he left?
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Louise Edwards
One email. Didn't say anything worth mentioning. I didn't reply. I thought it best to leave it be and get on with life.
Oddly enough, I went out for a drink with Dilan, the guy who was the DJ at Evelyn's bash. He's nice and good looking and everything, but I just couldn't feel anything towards him. So that was as far as that went. I think I probably need a break for a while. Maybe the real Mr. Right will come along soon. (Although, knowing my luck, he'll be already taken!).
Stevie
* * * *
Stevie poured herself a glass of wine and put her feet up. Her email to Louise had set her thinking about Tom again. Not that it took a lot to do that. All sorts of stuff made him pop into her head. She had been dreading going to Oxford to talk to the Major and his wife, but it turned out they lived in a village just beyond the city, so she hadn't passed any familiar landmarks. Nevertheless, she'd felt the house and memories of Tom calling to her all the time she'd been there.
At least she had work to take her mind off things. She sighed and looked at her computer. Tom's email to her had been difficult enough to read the first time, but she found herself pulling it up and reading it over and over. Each time, she told herself she should just delete it, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Reaching over, she opened it once more.
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Stevie Winfield
Hi
Just a quick line to say that I've arrived in Doha safely and have plunged straight into work. It's all very hectic.
I went to see the desert today (it was part of my induction tour). It was...well, it was hot. Like stepping into a sandy blast furnace. But it was also mind blowing and majestic.
I wish I could have shown it to you. There are a hundred and one little things I want to share with you. I miss you.
Tom
Just reading the email made her throat constrict. If she'd gone with him, she would have been able to share all of that. But she knew that it wouldn't last. He was busy. She would feel neglected and become needy and whingey. To split up had been the sensible option, but God, it hurt.
So far, she hadn't replied. There was nothing to say. Reopening communications would only cause more pain. She thought about her evening with Dilan. All night she'd caught herself comparing her dinner companion to Tom. Even though Tom was thousands of miles away, he hadn't left her thoughts for a moment. Poor Dilan never stood a chance. He seemed to it realise too. He'd walked her home, but hadn't hung around at the doorstep waiting to be invited in. She almost felt sorry for him.
Was it going to be like that on every date from now on?
Sighing she clicked reply. She had done this before and deleted the email without sending it. Previous emails had included chatty paragraphs about her day, as though she were using it like a diary
. She couldn't possibly send that sort of drivel to Tom, but knowing she wasn't going to send it liberated her, so she chatted to him, as though he were there.
This time however, she was feeling so down, she simply wrote, "I miss you too. I don't think life is ever going to be the same without you."
She stared at the message. So short, but it covered just how she was feeling at the moment. Sighing again, she drained her glass and leaned across to click delete.
Her hand slipped and she hit send instead.
Stevie stared at the screen. "Oh shit!" She scrabbled around trying to cancel it before it went, but there was--in her sent folder. She swore some more and sank back into her chair.
"Great. Just great." She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "And now I'm talking to myself. Ugh."
* * * *
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
My office is now fully kitted out. It looks great. The desk is about the size of my bed!
In other news--Lambert Kassel just offered me that job I interviewed for a couple of months ago. It was so long ago that I had totally forgotten about it.
Typical. You wait for ages, then two job offers come at once.
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Congratulations. I guess you'll be turning it down. You've already accepted this one.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
Yes. I'll turn it down.
I'm on probationary period with this job until the end of the month--it's company policy with jobs that require relocation. So, I could leave at quite short notice if I wanted to take the L&K job, but this is a better job.
I'll write L&K a letter in the morning. I might have an evening to have a glass of wine and feel smug about being offered not one, but two good jobs within the space of six weeks.
Tom
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Sounds like you're returning to your old form. Good. I was starting to worry.
##
From: Tom Blackwood
To: Olivia Gornall
So was I. I still haven't slept properly though, but I think I'm getting used to it.
I've got to go to a work do tomorrow night and it made me think of Vienna. I wonder--
Oh. There's an email from Stevie. Back in a minute.
T
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
You can't just say that - give me details.
What did she say???
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Tom? Are you still there? What did Stevie's email say?
##
From: Olivia Gornall
To: Tom Blackwood
Helloooooooo?
* * * *
Stevie kicked off her shoes as soon as she entered the flat. She'd been up to Oxford for the day to talk about the graduation party. She had a good gut feeling about the job. The people were nice and the event was straightforward to organise. It would be a good start.
But walking around the city had made her feel tired and reminded her too much of Tom. She popped her laptop on the coffee table and set it up to charge. She hadn't had a reply to the email she'd mistakenly sent to Tom. This tore her between relief and misery that he'd not taken it seriously enough to respond.
"At least the work is going well," she said out loud, and then shook her head. This talking to herself thing was getting worse. "I'm going to have to get a cat or something." She poured herself some wine. "But then I'll end up a barmy old cat lady."
Walking past the shops in Oxford, she'd seen the cutest cuddly toy bunny and felt suddenly compelled to buy it for her unborn niece or nephew. She took the floppy little thing in her hands and stared at it. It looked plaintively back at her. Over the last few weeks, her ambivalence towards Marsh and Jane's baby had begun to fade, not least because they'd shown her ultrasound pictures of the tiny human being that was growing inside Jane's now rounded tummy.
She was going to be an aunty. The idea rather appealed, now that she'd had time to process it. She could be the cool aunt who appeared at weekends and played and took the child to interesting and fun places that its parents would never dream of going to. She didn't know where yet, but she was sure she could be more creative in her outings and games than her brother. Perhaps having a tiny person to pour all her love into was the perfect antidote to her broken heart.
She went over to the noticeboard where the photo of her family and the postcard of Indiana Jones were now happily side by side. "I'm going to be an aunty." She waved the bunny at them.
For a moment she wondered if she still wanted a family of her own. That normal family with the house, the pet, the white picket fence that she'd unwittingly revealed to Tom all those weeks ago. The dream of it was still there, but now instead of a nameless figure, the man who would have all that with her was Tom. Somewhere along the line, she'd absorbed him into her dreams.
"It's not to be," she said to the bunny, with a sigh. "I'll just have to wait until someone else comes along and pops himself into my perfect future." She took a sip of wine. "I just hope I don't have to wait too long."
She was about to put the bunny safely back in its bag when the doorbell rang. She wasn't expecting anyone.
"Perhaps it's Mr. Right?" She put her wine glass down and went to open the door, bunny still in hand.
Tom was standing at the door, looking tanned and heart-stoppingly handsome. He had one hand tucked behind his back. When he saw her, a huge grin spread across his face.
Stevie was so surprised she shut the door again. She looked at the bunny, then threw it in the direction of the sofa and quickly ran her fingers through her hair. She opened the door again, half expecting to find she'd imagined him.
He was still there. No longer grinning. "Hi."
"Hi."
They stared at each other for a moment. Tom looked good. The desert sun had turned him a lovely golden shade of brown. His hair was shorter, making him look less mussed up, but still fabulous. His eyes shone deep blue against his tan.
Stevie remembered her manners. "Come in." She opened the door wider. "What are you doing here?"
He followed her in. "I had to come and talk to some people at work."
His reply deflated her spirits. So he was back on business. That figured. But what was he doing here, in her flat?
He brought out his hidden hand and presented her with a bunch of red roses. "For you." The grin returned.
"They're lovely." Stevie took them, a little hesitantly. The smell reminded her of the night in the gazebo.
He looked too pleased with himself. It was almost as though he thought that a bunch of flowers would make everything okay. A sudden thought popped into her mind. Perhaps that was what he did with Vienna. A curl of anger added to the mix of feelings churning inside her.
Tom was shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I got your email."
So that was it. Her email, sent by mistake. He'd read it and thought that she was pining after him. So he'd come over to try and seduce her. If he thought he could get round her that easily with his roses and his tan and his lovely, muscly arms... Well he had another think coming.
"I'm not Vienna," she blurted.
Tom stopped fidgeting. "What?"
"I'm not Vienna." She thrust the flowers back at him. "You can't just come round here and give me flowers and expect me to just roll over and pick up where we left off."
Tom seemed surprised to find himself holding
the flowers again. "What are you talking about?"
"You're here with work and you just thought you'd pop in and see if you could get a nice night out and a shag while you were in town. Well, I'm not your little slapper on call. If that's what you want, you may as well just leave now." She opened the door.
"Stevie..." He moved fast, putting himself between her and the door and pushing it shut.
"I mean it." Her eyes were full of tears. Something primal inside of her was screaming that if another one night stand was what he wanted, then dammit that was what he could have. It took all her willpower not to give in. She had to remain strong. She wasn't going to be some businessman's mistress. That was a sure way to end up as a mad cat lady.
He dropped the roses and put his hands on her upper arms. His touch reminded her of so many nice things those hands could do. She wriggled and started to protest.
He pulled her to him and kissed her. Not hard, just enough to stop her talking.
Her mind emptied of all the arguments that had been queuing to get out. She found herself melting and kissing him back. This wasn't getting her anywhere. She couldn't just give in at the first delicious kiss. Calling up all her reserve will power, she pushed him away. "I won't end up a mad cat lady."
He gaped. "What on earth...?"
"Just go, Tom. Please."
"Not until I've said what I came to say."
"But--"
He put a finger to her lips. "Will you just shut up and let me finish."
Caught between his firm hold on her arms and the disturbingly pleasant sensation of his finger brushing her lips, she nodded.
"I didn't come to London on a business trip. I came to London to tell my employers I was resigning. I'm leaving Doha and coming back to London."
Stevie stared, unable to comprehend what he was telling her. "But the dream job--"
"Wasn't such a dream job without you there with me."
"But your job is so important to you."
"It is. And that's why I've accepted another one, with a smaller firm. It's not as high flying, but it's doing what I love doing and I'll be able to spend time with you." He looked into her eyes. "I love you."