Monday to Friday Man

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Monday to Friday Man Page 16

by Alice Peterson


  But back to Paul!

  She’s still in a dream, Anna says, in that she’s hankered after him all this time but never believed it would happen.

  ‘What’s he like?’ Susie asks. Unlike me, she hasn’t met him yet.

  ‘He’s creative, ambitious at work,’ Anna replies. ‘He’s quiet too, but not in a boring way,’ she’s quick to add.

  We tell her he needs to be fairly quiet as Anna can talk enough for two.

  ‘He asked me if we should move in together, but I’m not sure. I want to, but his divorce isn’t even finalized,’ she says.

  ‘Don’t rush,’ Susie advises her. ‘Are you sure you’re ready to take on his son?’

  ‘I know it’s not going to be easy,’ Anna answers, ‘and I didn’t dream of meeting someone divorced with a child, but that’s just the way it is.’

  ‘All I’m saying is don’t rush it,’ Susie insists now. ‘There’s so much time for arguing about whose turn it is to put out the bins.’

  ‘I’m thirty-five. There’s not that much time to …’ She stops, turns to me. ‘Oh God, listen to me. I’m sorry, Gilly.’

  ‘Yes, you’ve deserted me!’ I say, followed by, ‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. I’m happy for you, Anna, really happy. You’ve waited long enough for Paul and I know it’s been hard at times.’

  ‘What about Jack?’ they both ask at the same time.

  I tell Susie and Anna about my evening with Jack last night, confiding how I can’t stop thinking about what Jack’s brother, Alexander, had said to me.

  We were at an art exhibition, organized by an old family friend of Jack’s. I was deep in conversation with one of the guests when a man interrupted me. ‘I’m Alexander,’ he said. ‘I think I saw you arrive with my brother.’

  It dawned on me then how little I knew about Jack.

  As far as I could recall, Jack hadn’t mentioned he had a brother since he’d lived with me.

  ‘Hi. Yes, I’m Gilly,’ I said, offering my hand and he shook it. ‘Jack’s living with me at the moment.’

  Alexander was tall like Jack, but had darker hair, and dressed more like my father or Nick, in his suit with cufflinks. He looked me up and down before saying, ‘So you’re his latest victim.’

  ‘Latest victim?’ I’d smiled, trying to make a joke of it, but he didn’t smile back.

  At that point Jack joined us and Alexander excused himself with a curt nod. I couldn’t imagine Jack being related to him; they seemed completely at odds with each other. ‘What were you talking about?’ Jack asked, and appeared relieved when I said we’d only just had time to introduce ourselves. When I asked Jack to tell me about his brother he said he worked in the civil service. ‘Don’t you get on?’ I asked.

  Jack shook his head. ‘He’s boring. Conservative and always telling me what I should do.’

  He had stiffened when I’d told him about the latest victim comment.

  ‘That’s typical Alexander,’ Jack said, and leaned in towards me. ‘Truth is, Gilly, he’s jealous that I get all the beautiful girls like you.’

  I caught Alexander’s eye again.

  Now I try to picture his face and hear his tone of voice again.

  ‘Maybe he meant it in a light-hearted way?’ Susie suggests.

  ‘He didn’t.’ I shake my head. ‘I just have this feeling …’

  ‘Oh no, not one of your feelings,’ Anna rolls her eyes.

  I think of Dennis, who can’t seem to understand that Mari’s shop doesn’t sell platters, but who can probably see a whole lot more than most people. Ruskin loved Dennis and dogs always know when a person is kind and real; they can sift the good from the bad in an instant. When Jack picks up Rusk, he wriggles and does his best to get away.

  ‘There’s something I don’t know about Jack. What if he’s hiding something?’

  ‘Look, he can’t be married or anything like that,’ Anna states. ‘I wouldn’t read too much into it.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I tell them. ‘It probably meant nothing, but … I just don’t know that much about him, although he doesn’t ask me anything either,’ I tell them.

  ‘Does he know about Ed?’ Susie asks.

  ‘No, not really.’ All he knows is that he left me two weeks before the wedding, but he has no idea of how it affected me.

  ‘Men don’t ask that many questions,’ Anna reasons.

  ‘Yes, but Jack’s Gilly’s boyfriend,’ Susie interrupts. ‘Isn’t he, Gilly?’

  ‘I think so,’ I say, ‘from Monday to Friday.’

  ‘Has he asked you about any other relationships?’

  ‘No! You shouldn’t talk about your exes anyway,’ Anna argues. ‘Although it is true to say I’m longing to know more about Paul’s ex-wife,’ she admits.

  ‘What about your family?’ Susie continues. ‘He does know about Megan, doesn’t he?’

  I shake my head. ‘Not really.’ That means no.

  Equally, I haven’t asked him about his past or his family. When I’m with Jack it’s as if we’re both blank pieces of paper, up until today not wanting to blot our problems into the sheets, but I want to know more about him now.

  ‘What you need to do is spend more time with him when the show’s over,’ Anna advises. ‘Once he’s moved out, you’ll both know if you want to keep the relationship going.’

  I nod, realizing Jack will leave by Christmas and that the thought terrifies me. I’m having such a great time with him that I don’t want to have these doubts. ‘The sex is great too,’ I confide.

  They laugh. ‘Sex? What’s that?’ asks Susie. ‘Mark falls asleep on the sofa these days, it’s a miracle if we even go to bed together, let alone have sex.’

  We smile at that.

  ‘Jack’s coming to your birthday, isn’t he?’ Anna asks.

  I nod.

  ‘How about Guy? What does he think of Jack?’ she asks.

  Guy. I miss Guy. ‘He hasn’t met him,’ I tell them. ‘Yet.’

  32

  ‘Hi,’ he says. He was the last person I expected to see at the shop. Ruskin and Basil bark and wag their tails as he approaches me.

  ‘Guy! How are you?’

  ‘Great. I was passing by … This is an amazing place,’ he says, gingerly making his way through the obstacle course to reach me. Guy didn’t really have time to explore the shop when he last visited. ‘How do you find anything?’ He touches a lamp vase and a layer of dust coats his fingers.

  ‘Is that Hatman?’ calls Mari from the basement.

  ‘Yes!’ he calls down to her.

  ‘Welcome home!’ she shouts back.

  I am taken aback by how lovely it is to see his familiar face. ‘You look …’ He analyses me, attempting to work out what it is that has changed. ‘Different.’

  Self-consciously I touch my hair.

  ‘It suits you,’ he says.

  Ruskin jumps up against Guy, wagging his tail.

  ‘I’ve missed your big head and that long snout of yours Rusk,’ Guy strokes him before looking up to me and asking if I have time for lunch.

  ‘Go on,’ Mari calls. ‘I’ll hold the fort.’

  I pick up my coat. ‘Let’s go round the corner,’ I suggest.

  ‘How did the work go?’ I ask Guy as we eat toasted-cheese sandwiches in Manuel’s coffee shop.

  ‘Work? Forget about the garden, Gilly. I’ve discovered far more about their relationship,’ he claims.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘OK, so it’s like this. To begin with I’m dealing with Mrs Morris. “Call me Sarah,” she insists. Sarah’s the one who rang me in the first place, wanting me to redesign the garden and put in a new terrace. So I meet Sarah, carry out a basic survey of the site, she really likes my designs and together we think up some ideas. Won’t go into them, boring for you. She then tells me that her husband Tim needs to be at the second meeting, just to make sure he’s happy to go ahead with the plans. Now, Tim’s a lawyer.’

  ‘My father’s a lawyer,’ I
say, before he’s rude about them. ‘And my brother.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t like to work for your family. Lawyers are the worst clients! Their favourite word is “clause”. So Mr Morris strides into the kitchen wearing shades, pushes little wife out of the way, glances at my plans, doesn’t get them and says, “Where’s the house?” He then starts firing questions at me, as if we’re in court. “What did you do before you designed gardens?” and “What qualifications do you have?” Sarah is dealing with their screaming children, nose massively out of joint because Tim is now taking over and demanding more options.’

  I smile, remembering option is another favourite word.

  ‘These lawyers, they don’t want to commit to anything,’ Guy goes on. ‘All Tim’s interested in is stuff like, “What if the roots interfere with the drains?” “What if we sell the house?”

  ‘So I say, “Are you going to sell?”’

  ‘“Well, it’s an option,” he replies.’

  I laugh.

  ‘Tim doesn’t like the red that Sarah suggested. You know it’s pretty basic, if you have a red flower you can incorporate another plant that has a red vein in its stem. Tim is afraid of colour in case it’s not commercial when it comes to selling. Instead he wants me to put in cream and neutrals because it’s a safer “option”.’

  ‘Frustrating,’ I sigh.

  ‘Exactly. When Tim’s at work the following week and the children are at school, Sarah talks to me while I’m doing the planting, right, and she confesses how much he drives her insane, that her husband’s so unimaginative. I tell you, Gilly, her skirt hitched up another inch by the day, and then there was this one time … do you remember that really bad storm we had last week?’

  ‘Oh yes! I had to give Ruskin a bath.’

  ‘Well anyway, I went inside to dry off and she … she … you know …’ Guy adjusts his hat.

  Of course I know. I know, exactly. ‘But you didn’t…’

  ‘She’s a lovely woman, but so lonely, Gilly. She’s the kind of person who’d call out the boilerman, just to have the company. I’d watch her in the kitchen, staring into space. God that house felt so empty.’

  It makes me think of Nick and Nancy, even my own parents.

  ‘What did Sarah do all day?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘But you didn’t, you know, did you?’ I find myself asking again.

  ‘No.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘It was awful. She fled into the house, I didn’t see her for the rest of the week, until I produced my bill.’

  And at that point Guy picks up the bill and pays Manuel. I smile, remembering Harvey with his calculator.

  ‘So, how about you?’ Guy asks, as we walk back to the shop. ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘Me?’ I’m not sure where to start.

  ‘You look well,’ Guy continues. ‘Thinner. Have you lost weight?’

  ‘I’ve been going to the gym again.’

  ‘Well, you look great on it – not that you didn’t look good before,’ he quickly adds. ‘Have you been writing?’

  ‘A little,’ I lie.

  ‘And Jack? How was your date?’

  I attempt to open the shop door, but find it’s locked. Mari must have gone out for something. ‘That feels like years ago,’ I say, rummaging in my handbag for the keys. Keys are like mobiles. I’m sure they hide on purpose too. Finally I unlock the door.

  ‘I know. I feel like I’ve been away for ages,’ Guy says as I lead him inside. ‘Anyway, come on, was it good fun?’

  I nod. ‘We’ve been going out,’ I tell him.

  ‘Out? What out out?’

  ‘Sort of. Yes.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ I tell Guy about our recent evenings together.

  Guy listens, but can’t help mentioning that Gordon Ramsay is a slightly obvious choice. It’s no doubt a good restaurant, he says, but he loves this run-down lobster joint in Islington, owned by a French family. He takes off his hat, runs a hand through his hair.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Gordon Ramsay’s though,’ I claim, not liking the defensive tone in my voice.

  ‘I’m sure it’s good,’ Guy says. ‘I’ve never been.’

  When I tell him about Annabel’s, he’s quick to point out that he’s relieved his clubbing days are over.

  ‘Oh don’t be so old, Guy, and boring!’

  ‘You’re right. Mustn’t get my pipe and slippers out too soon.’

  I make Guy a cup of coffee; he seems in no hurry to leave and I don’t want him to. We talk about the dogs; he tells me how much he’s missed Trouble. I tell him that I’m having great fun with Jack. I fill him in on our dog-walking circle. Mari was furious because she had been fined for driving at thirty-seven miles per hour along a Cornish lane. Ariel has split up with Gareth again. I tell him that I’m also enjoying working in the shop and just sold a chandelier to Gywneth Paltrow’s interior decorator…

  ‘Are you serious about Jack?’ he asks. ‘Or is it just a fling?’

  ‘Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nods, ‘but I want to hear more about Jack.’

  ‘I don’t know, Guy. Maybe.’ I hesitate whether to tell him about my encounter with Jack’s brother last night.

  ‘Do you want it to be more?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I smile. ‘Why do you care so much?’

  ‘Why do I care?’ He looks at me. ‘Well, I just want some gossip because my own life is so boring.’

  I tell him about Alexander, then immediately wish I hadn’t.

  ‘Victim? That’s a strong word, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, Guy, I think it was a jokey thing. I’m having a great time. You haven’t shaved since I last saw you.’

  ‘You’re changing the subject.’

  ‘I’m not going to worry about it,’ I say. ‘Alexander did look like a stuffed shirt too. He’s nothing like Jack.’

  ‘Perhaps, but just be careful, Gilly.’

  ‘Careful? Only recently you were telling me not to think about things too much, that I over-analyse everything!’

  ‘I know. But I’m not sure about Jack and this brother,’ he admits. ‘I always thought you should have found out a lot more about him before he moved in.’

  33

  It’s early Friday morning. ‘Can’t you stay this weekend?’ I ask Jack as I lie in bed watching him pack. ‘I’ve hardly seen you all week.’ I reach out to grab his arm, pull him towards me and kiss him, one hand stroking the back of his neck. ‘Don’t go tonight. We could have a lie-in tomorrow,’ I say slowly, ‘I could make us breakfast, we could stay in bed all day.’

  ‘Oh, Gilly,’ he says, in a tone which suggests no, but his lips remain close to mine, and we kiss again. I run a hand through his soft hair and he murmurs in approval.

  ‘We could do nothing but this, Jack, all weekend.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ he says, before pulling away, ‘but I can’t, honey.’ I sit up and bring my knees to my chest, watching as Jack opens his wardrobe. He takes out his jeans and a couple of tops, flings them into his leather suitcase.

  ‘Why?’ I ask. ‘Have you got plans?’

  ‘Yep,’ he says, refusing to allow me entry into his life at the weekend.

  ‘What are you up to?’ I could kill Alexander … and Guy for making me question Jack.

  ‘I’ve got stuff on, Gilly.’

  What the hell does ‘stuff’ mean? If I’m not careful I shall ruin this relationship, stamp it to death with my suspicion. Is that what I want? I don’t like the way Jack makes me feel insecure, when he’s always so cool and composed. What’s going on behind the mask? He gives nothing away. If only Jack wasn’t so mysterious, then I wouldn’t have to ask these questions, would I?

  ‘Stuff?’ I ask, trying to sound casual as I play with the corner of the duvet cover.

  ‘Just a few things I have to do. I need the weekends to be at home, catc
h up.’

  That is reasonable, I say to myself. Instead I work up to suggesting, ‘Why don’t I come to Bath on Sunday then, just for the day?’

  ‘No.’ He registers he said that too fiercely. ‘I mean, no, it’s not the best time.’

  ‘We could go out for lunch…’

  He squashes my ideas with, ‘It’s the busiest time for the show. I need to keep my head down, and I won’t if you’re around,’ he adds with a smile. ‘Right.’ He zips up the conversation as well as his suitcase. Ask him about his brother, Gilly. Go on. Ask him.

  ‘Jack, why don’t you ever talk about your brother?’

  ‘We don’t get on, that’s why.’

  ‘Guy says…’

  He rolls his eyes as if he hasn’t got time to hear what Guy says again, before glancing at his watch. ‘I need to shoot.’ He kisses me on the lips before rushing out of the room with his suitcase. ‘Have a great weekend,’ he calls.

  ‘You too! Whatever you’re up to,’ I mutter to myself as I get out of bed and slip on my dressing gown.

  He’s back again. ‘Shit, left my …’ He grabs his BlackBerry from the bedside table. He must notice my back turned towards him because next thing I know, a pair of arms are wrapped round my waist. I try to pull away but he doesn’t let me. ‘Aren’t you sick of me by the weekend?’ he asks, holding me tightly. Then he brushes a strand of hair away from my face and kisses my neck. His touch feels warm.

  ‘No, I like having you around. Just stay tonight,’ I say again, turning towards him.

  ‘I wish I could, but I really do have to work, Gilly. I’ve got to finish a whole script by Monday.’

  I nod, reluctantly.

  ‘We’re OK?’ he asks, lifting my chin.

  I nod. ‘Go.’

  He’s off.

  ‘Oh, hang on!’ I call him back.

  He sticks his head round the door. ‘What? Quick!’

  ‘You’re coming to my birthday party next week, aren’t you?’

  If Jack lets me down I’ll have to explain this to Nancy and, besides, I want to show him off to my nieces. Hannah and Tilda have been allowed to stay up extra late, just to say Happy Birthday to me, and I know they are longing to meet Auntie Gilly’s boyfriend, the handsome Jack.

 

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