Time After Time

by Hannah McKinnon

  ‘You keep taking them off, you know,’ Ian said, and the sadness in his voice surprised her. Then his face hardened. ‘I suppose you take them off during your sessions with Justin too.’

  Hayley looked out of the window and closed her eyes. An image of her with another man flickered in the back of her head, but not long enough for it to become clear.

  What the heck have I got myself into now?

  CHAPTER 19

  1993

  Sweet Little Lies

  After Tuesday’s lunch at The Ivy with Ian, Hayley spent Wednesday concentrating on her work as best she could. By Thursday it had become more difficult and on Friday it was impossible. She felt nauseous, couldn’t eat properly and reckoned she must have lost a stone – at least she hoped she had. Her clothes did seem to fit better anyway.

  Her absent-mindedness culminated on Friday evening when she mislaid a load of confidential papers. She’d frantically searched for them all over the office, even in the loos. As she was seriously contemplating hiding under her desk for the rest of the year, Sharon the receptionist grabbed her.

  ‘Oi,’ she whispered as her long manicured fingernails dug into Hayley’s arm, ‘I found these in the copy room next to the shredder.’ She handed her a stack of papers. ‘They’re yours, right?’

  ‘Oh blimey, Sharon. Thank you. You saved me from deep shit.’

  ‘S’okay,’ Sharon said, her blonde beehive bobbing like a huge, ripe pineapple precariously balanced on top of her head. ‘Charles picked them up and started talking about how people can’t be trusted.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘I told him you’d asked me to make copies. He believed me but you owe me. Big time.’

  ‘No kidding, you lifesaver,’ Hayley said as she clutched the papers to her chest. ‘I don’t know why but he gives me the creeps. Mum always says never trust a man with thin lips. Look at Charles – his are practically inverted.’

  Sharon turned a shade of pink. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I kind of fancy him.’

  ‘Give over, Sharon.’ Hayley laughed, then packed up her things to go home.

  On Saturday morning Hayley tried to act normally around Ellen and Mark. She laid the breakfast table, boiled the kettle and gave them each a cup of tea, but over breakfast her self-control withered and died, and she let out a high-pitched squeal.

  ‘Listen to you,’ Ellen said, stirring her tea and laughing. ‘I know you’re excited about seeing Mr. Suave but girly squeals? Really?’

  Hayley hid behind her hands for a second. ‘I can’t wait. I haven’t been able to think about anything else.’

  ‘I thought you called him an arrogant son-of-a-bitch?’ Mark said as he reached for the jar of crunchy peanut butter and jammed his knife into it.

  ‘Well, I –’

  Ellen cut her off. ‘That, my dear Mark, is beside the point. You see, Missy here,’ she pointed at Hayley with her spoon, ‘hasn’t had a good seeing to in what? Six months?’

  ‘Six months?’ Mark’s eyes widened. ‘And you’ve survived this long? How?’

  ‘God knows.’ Hayley puffed out her cheeks. ‘I hope I can remember how to do it.’

  ‘He could be the most arrogant man in the world,’ Ellen continued, ‘but he’s good looking and available. She’s up for anything. Right, Hayley?’

  Hayley threw a toast crust at Ellen, but didn’t deny it.

  After breakfast, Ellen and Mark went off to the market while Hayley lounged around, willing time to move faster. At eleven o’clock she gave in and went out to distract herself.

  The late January weather was warmer than usual, and on a whim, Hayley hopped onto the tube and ended up at Hyde Park. She strolled down the path, smiling as she watched a man running towards her, pulling a Thomas the Tank Engine kite behind him, much to the delight of a toddler who was feverishly jumping up and down, clapping his hands, yelling, ‘Faster, Daddy! Run faster!’

  ‘Kids, eh?’ the man said as he ran past Hayley and she heard him add, ‘Bloody hell, I’m knackered.’

  Although getting outside in the sun was a welcome change from being stuck in the office, Hayley found her thoughts continually returning to Ian. She had a date, a date, with a very sophisticated man. Where would they go? What would they do? Once again, Hayley’s mind started playing another X-rated film, starring Ian and her in the lead roles. So much for the park being a distraction.

  It was when she made her way back to the tube station that the driver of a black Mercedes caught her eye.

  Ian!

  Hayley raised a hand in a wave and craned her neck to get a better look. She caught a quick look at who appeared to be an attractive dark-haired man sitting next to Ian in the front passenger seat. She shook her head then laughed at her overactive imagination.

  The sky had clouded over and it had started to rain by the time Hayley got home. She tidied up the flat, did the washing up, straightened out her bedroom, ironed her clothes and found the clock had barely made it to four in the afternoon when she’d finished. Despite not really being hungry she had a sandwich and idly flicked through the latest Cosmopolitan until Ellen came back.

  ‘Mark’s going out with the lads tonight,’ she said. ‘And as you’re out with Mr. Suave, I have a hot date with a take-away curry and a video.’ She held up Footloose and rattled the box, then shook a crinkled plastic bag from the Maharajah Palace.

  Hayley wrinkled up her nose and clicked her tongue.

  ‘Oh come on, Footloose is a classic,’ Ellen said with a giggle, taking off her coat and dumping it over the back of a chair. ‘Tell you what; let’s watch it before you go out.’ She walked over to the video recorder and stuffed the tape in.

  ‘Ellen,’ said Hayley, as they watched Kevin Bacon save the world one dance step at a time. ‘Do you think I should sleep with Ian tonight? If I get the chance, I mean.’

  ‘Duh!’

  Hayley laughed. ‘Really?’

  ‘Do you want to?’

  ‘Oh god, yes.’

  ‘Well, if it feels right, then you should.’

  ‘He might be a client though. And will he think I’m slutty?’

  ‘Depends on what you do to him.’ Ellen winked at her.

  Hayley reached for the remote and paused the film, an image of Lori Singer’s face frozen on the telly.

  ‘Be serious. I really like him and I don’t want it to be a one night stand.’

  ‘Listen hon,’ Ellen said, ‘I’m not really an authority on this stuff. All I know is that you’re horny as hell, you like the guy and if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. Go for it.’

  Hayley couldn’t concentrate on the film so she gave up and headed for the shower instead, emerging two hours later.

  ‘Wow,’ said Ellen. She sat up straight on the sofa, gaping at Hayley and dropped a splodge of chicken tikka down her T-shirt. ‘I mean, wow. You look amazing.’

  Hayley felt amazing. She’d mastered the dark smoky eyes like Ellen had taught her, and brushed pale gloss on her lips. Her skin glowed and her shoulder-length hair had cooperated for once – not even a hint of frizz. She’d chosen the black dress Ian had first seen her in at the club – after all, he’d said how much he’d liked it – and paired it with black high-heels, a simple silver necklace, earrings and bracelet.

  ‘Really, matey,’ Ellen continued. ‘You’re a knock-out. Tell Mr. Suave if he won’t sleep with you, I might have to.’

  Hayley burst out laughing and took a bow. ‘Well thank you for the offer, but I shall politely decline. We wouldn’t want Mark getting jealous, would we?’

  As the clock struck eight o’clock Hayley sat at the kitchen table, drumming her fingers and looking at her watch. At half-past she paced the hall and by nine she was livid.

  ‘He stood me up,’ she said, kicking off her shoes and flopping down on the sofa.

  ‘What an arse,’ Ellen said. ‘He doesn’t deserve you. You were right. He is an arrogant son-of-a-bitch. What did he say to you? ‘I hate waiting’? Tosser.’ She held Hayley’s hand while they
watched Footloose again and ate leftover curry.

  When the phone rang at ten o’clock the next morning, Hayley heard Ellen run to answer it, her feet pat-pattering down the hallway.

  ‘’allo?’ Ellen said. She paused for a second, then shouted, ‘Hayley, it’s last night’s disappointment for you,’ about three times louder than she needed to.

  Hayley giggled, betting that Ellen hadn’t moved the receiver away from her mouth. She hoped she’d pierced Ian’s eardrum. She took her time getting up, stretched and yawned, then slowly opened her bedroom door.

  ‘Don’t let him get away with it,’ Ellen said sternly as she passed the phone to Hayley.

  ‘Hello?’ Hayley held her breath.

  ‘I see I’m not flavour of the month with your flatmate.’ Ian paused but Hayley said nothing so he continued. ‘I’m sorry about last night. My flight from Edinburgh was delayed and I didn’t get back until after midnight.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Hayley, feeling a bit silly all of a sudden. ‘I thought you stood me up.’

  ‘Let me redeem myself. Brunch, today. I’ll pick you up in an hour.’ Before Hayley could argue he put the phone down.

  Only an hour? Shit!

  Two minutes after Hayley had jumped in the shower, Ellen came into the bathroom.

  ‘And? What did he say?’

  ‘His flight was delayed.’ Hayley heard Ellen harrumph loudly over the noise of the running water and she rubbed the green-apple shampoo into her hair with even more vigour.

  ‘So, what now?’ Ellen said. ‘What’s with the rush?’

  Hayley poked her head around the curtain. ‘Brunch. He’s picking me up in an hour.’ She let the curtain fall back into place.

  ‘What? But he stood you up.’

  ‘Nu-uh. His flight was delayed.’

  ‘Then why didn’t he call? Are all the phones broken at the airport? He was in Edinburgh, not Glasgow.’

  Hayley rolled her eyes, glad Ellen couldn’t see her. ‘Pass me the conditioner please, this one’s empty.’ She looked around the curtain again, stuck out her hand and Ellen gave it a firm whack with a hairbrush.

  ‘Ouch. What was that for?’

  ‘I don’t want history repeating itself.’

  ‘It won’t,’ said Hayley. ‘It’s brunch.’

  Ellen snorted. ‘Is that what it’s called these days?’

  Hayley shoved Ellen out of the bathroom, put on her make-up and dried her hair, then quickly dressed in a black skirt and a blue cotton shirt. She surveyed the results in the mirror.

  Not as good as last night, but it’ll have to do.

  ‘Be careful,’ Ellen said when the doorbell rang, exactly an hour after Ian had called.

  They took a taxi to the Blue Door Café. Hayley hadn’t heard of it but felt herself succumbing to the charms of the small round tables, fresh flowers, and waiters wearing French bistro-style aprons. Ian ordered brunch for both of them with golden brioche, eggs Benedict, smoked salmon and caviar.

  ‘This tastes like heaven on a plate,’ she said when the food arrived, and smiled.

  ‘I thought you’d like it.’ He reached for her hand. ‘I’m glad to see you.’

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘I apologise for last night.’ Ian sipped his sparkling water. ‘I would’ve called but I forgot your number.’

  Hayley waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.’ She’d already decided he was too damn charming for her to stay mad at him. Besides, surely he wouldn’t appreciate her pouting like a schoolgirl.

  She straightened her back. ‘How was your trip? Was it enjoyable?’

  Gosh, I feel so grown up when I’m with him. Like a proper adult.

  Ian exhaled and sat back. ‘The business part, yes. As for the rest …’

  ‘Oh,’ Hayley said, not knowing what to add without prying. ‘And, uh, did you go through the proposal we prepared for you?’

  ‘I did indeed. It’s immaculate. There’s one clause we should look at in more detail though.’ Ian smiled. ‘Later, perhaps?’

  As they finished their meal they continued talking about Ian’s plans for his new business. Then he gestured to the waiter for the bill, and looked at her. ‘My place?’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t care anymore what he thought.

  They barely made it through his front door. As soon as they were inside the apartment Ian pushed her up against the wall. He unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra with one hand. She trembled as he squeezed her breasts and licked her hard nipples, flicking them with his tongue. He pressed himself against her and she could feel he wanted her as much as she did him. She undid his zip, snaking her hand inside his trousers and her fingers around him, and he groaned deeply.

  ‘I want to be inside you. Now,’ he whispered in her ear and pulled her underwear to one side, teasing her with his fingers before pulling a condom out of his pocket.

  Gasping as he entered her, she wrapped a leg around him, pulling him deeper and deeper. As he kissed her neck, she touched herself, something she’d never dared do with a partner before, and climaxed shortly after he did.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about this all week,’ Ian said later, as they lay in bed and he gently stroked the inside of her thigh.

  ‘Well I’ve been thinking about you since the club,’ Hayley answered. ‘I even thought I saw you in a posh car yesterday.’ She laughed and he joined in.

  ‘Must have been national Doppelgänger day.’ He kissed her fingertips. ‘In all seriousness. You know I can’t become a client of Simpson and Partners now, don’t you?’

  ‘Why not?’

  He rolled on top of her. ‘How can I work with a solicitor that I want to fuck all the time?’

  It was the way he said ‘fuck’ that really turned her on. They had sex again twice that afternoon before he took her back to her flat. Hayley tried to ignore the fact that she’d lost a client for the firm. But not as much as the fact that he was driving her home in a black Mercedes.

  CHAPTER 20

  How The Other Half Live

  The Fitzpatricks lived a short drive away at another exclusive Belgravia address close to Cadogan Place Gardens, where Ian helped Hayley out of the taxi. The immaculate white façade of the five-story terraced house loomed over her. Impeccably trimmed flower boxes adorned the lower floor windows and two neatly clipped lollipop trees stood sentry on either side of the large black door with the gold plated letter box.

  Ian rang the bell and a butler answered almost immediately. He was fully kitted out with white gloves and a black waistcoat that had gold trim and buttons. Hayley tried very hard not to laugh. It was so over the top, so very Downton Abbey. She half expected a footman to announce their arrival as they were escorted to the reception room. Hayley took in the high ceilings, the cool white carpet and the crystal chandeliers, and her laughter caught in her throat.

  ‘Darlings, so happy you could come.’ A woman of around sixty-five, with silver hair and a long dress that made her look like Audrey Hepburn, breezed over to them with her arms outstretched. She gave them a series of air kisses.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick, I presume. What do I do? Should I curtsey?

  Ian took the woman’s hand and kissed it lightly. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again, Elizabeth. Thank you for the invitation.’

  ‘You’re quite welcome.’ She patted him on the arm. ‘Now, my darling George is over there talking to that American, Brent Forester.’ She leaned in. ‘If I hear the word awesome one more time … Ian, would you be a dear and rescue George? I believe you have some business to discuss anyway?’

  ‘With pleasure,’ he said.

  Hayley caught Ian’s smile and noticed how different he looked – authoritative but kind. No wonder he’d whisked her off her feet when she was so much younger. She watched him walk over to the man she supposed was George, accepting a glass of champagne from a ginger pony-tailed waiter on the way.

  Elizabeth turned to Hayley. ‘Lovely to see you again, Hayley and I’m pleased you’re pa
rt of this little party.’

  ‘Little?’ Hayley looked at the servers that were circulating the room with flutes of champagne delicately balanced on shiny trays.

  Elizabeth smiled. ‘There will only be twelve of us, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy Mrs. Forester’s company. She’s about your age. But anyway, how are you, dear? How are you really?’

  Hayley hesitated and frowned, then said, ‘I’m well, thank you Mrs. Fitzpatrick.’

  Elizabeth tut-tutted. ‘Oh please, you haven’t called me that since George and Ian started doing business together.’

  ‘Sorry, uh, Elizabeth, can I … I mean, may I use your bathroom?’

  ‘Of course, dear. Remember where it is? Down the hall to the left and second door to the right.’

  Hayley walked quickly down the hallway, her heels making a clickety-clack sound on the polished marble floors. She stayed in the bathroom for as long as she dared, steadying herself against the heavy, antique cabinets, staring into the gold-leafed mirror above the marble sink. When she finally emerged, George Fitzpatrick stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall. He looked about the same age as Elizabeth, quite short, stout, veering on bald, with a wiry moustache that somewhat resembled a hairy caterpillar.

  ‘Hello, George.’ She held out her hand.

  ‘Good to see you again, Hayley.’ He moved in closer and almost pushed her back into the bathroom. ‘Really good.’

  She took another step back.

  A frown crossed George’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’ he said quietly. ‘You couldn’t get enough of me yesterday.’

  ‘What?’

  He looked left and right before lowering his voice even further. ‘I get hard thinking about what I did to you. Elizabeth never lets me do that.’

  Do what?

  ‘But … but … you’re married.’

  He laughed and moved closer again, snaking a hot, chubby arm around her waist. She could smell the whisky on his breath. ‘As are you. That’s what makes this all the more exciting, Hayley.’ He breathed heavily and she saw a look of pure, unadulterated lust in his eyes.

  ‘I can still taste you.’ He licked his lips and reached between her legs.