by Rhoda Baxter
‘Going out for lunch?’ He was wearing a long black coat and what looked like a university scarf.
Jane considered lying and saying she was going to the bank, but she had a feeling that no matter what she said, he was going to try to join her. She didn't reply.
‘I'll come with you,’ said Keith, as if she'd welcomed his approach. He fell in beside her.
Jane was reminded of leaving the office with Marsh a couple of nights before. How different an experience that had been.
‘I know a nice place that does a lovely plate of couscous,’ Keith said, as they turned a corner.
She didn't want to have lunch with Keith. On the other hand, if she got a soup and took it back to the office, she would have to sit in the canteen and listen to the gossip, which she really didn't feel like doing.
‘It'll be fun. A nice hot lunch.’ He looked at her, his expression faintly pleading. It suddenly occurred to her that, for all his bravado, he might be quite insecure. Perhaps his constant invitations to the pub stemmed partially from the fact that he was lonely.
‘I won't take no for an answer,’ he said.
Deciding she had nothing to lose by getting to know him a bit better, Jane went with him.
They passed the row of high street shops and bagel bars where she normally bought lunch. Keith ushered her past an impressive looking, pink stone building and down a lane. It opened into a crowded street market. There were stalls selling cheap jumpers. A man in a tracksuit shouted his wares, his breath condensing in the cold air. Men and women in suits rummaged through stalls selling imitation designer goods. Stallholders stood around chatting.
‘Leather Lane market,’ Keith said. He led her past various stalls, and finally guided her through a gap between a man selling jewellery and a dreadlocked woman who was selling dried fruit.
The front of the Moroccan café bore brightly coloured sheets of paper announcing meals for a few pounds. When the door opened to let a group of women out, Jane and Keith squeezed inside.
The shop was beautifully warm and the air was heavy with the smell of cinnamon and cumin. On one side was a counter with steaming tureens of stew. Opposite, plastic tables were crammed together, with people huddled around them, laughing and chatting as they tucked into plates heaped with couscous and sauce. The place was filled with voices and the clatter of cutlery.
Keith leaned close to speak in her ear. ‘What would you like?’
Jane pointed at an appetising looking vegetable stew.
‘I'll get it,’ said Keith. ‘You find us a table. There's more room at the back.’
She headed in the direction he pointed. The back room was small and equally crowded. As she hovered by the doorway, a couple finished their meal and stood up. She immediately grabbed their vacated table.
As she waited she stacked up the used plates and wiped the table. Doing so reminded her of having been a waitress in her student days. Looking round, she felt a wave of nostalgia. This was the sort of place she and Ashby would have gone to for lunch as a treat. He had been fun and interesting, not the self-absorbed pop brat he now was.
Jane imagined Marshall here with her. She could see similarities between him and the Ashby she'd fallen for all those years ago. It was an unsettling thought.
A waiter whisked the stack of plates away. He wiped the table down with a wet cloth, leaving a slippery smear behind. ‘Enjoy your meal,’ he said.
Jane folded her hands on her lap, not touching the tabletop. She knew she shouldn't compare Marsh to Ashby, but she couldn't help it. She thought about her time with Marsh a few nights before. In some ways, Marsh and Ashby were very different indeed.
She was still smiling when Keith arrived with two heaped plates. She reached for her purse to pay for hers, but he dismissed it with a wave. ‘I know you've got cashflow problems until your new cards come through. So, tuck in. It's on me.’
‘Thanks.’ Just as she raised the first forkful to her mouth, her phone rang. Marsh's name came up on the display. Mouthing ‘Excuse me’ to Keith, she answered it.
‘Hi, it's me. Marsh.’ He paused, as though unsure what to say. ‘Um … are you in the office at the moment?’
‘No.’
‘Great. Listen, I was wondering …’
‘Yes …’ Jane prompted.
‘Would you like to come over to my place for the weekend? We could loaf around town a bit and … do stuff.’
Keith was making a great show of pretending he wasn't listening. She wondered how much of what Marsh was saying was audible to Keith. ‘That sounds good.’
There was a short silence from the other end. ‘Is there someone else there?’
‘Oh yes.’ She felt oddly guilty that she was out with another man, and reminded herself that she and Marshall weren't really an item yet. And she was only having lunch with a colleague. It wasn't like a date. She knew Marshall and Keith didn't see eye to eye, but that was no reason for her not to interact with Keith. After all, Marshall's dislike could be misplaced.
‘Ok. I'd best let you go then,’ Marshall said. ‘I'll call you after work this evening and we'll sort out a time to meet. See you later.’
‘Yes. Thanks for calling,’ she said, trying to sound casual for Keith's benefit. ‘Bye.’
‘That was the estate agent,’ she said as she put her phone away. She hoped it sounded convincing. ‘I'm looking for a place to stay.’
‘Really? I thought you were staying with a friend.’
‘I am, sort of. It's her spare room; she normally uses it as a study, so it's really tiny. There's barely room to walk around the bed. It's a bit like being a student again.’ She picked up her fork and started to eat. The food was surprisingly good. ‘This is lovely.’
‘Isn't it?’ said Keith. ‘I come here a lot. Although, it's much more fun in company. I usually end up getting a takeaway and having it back at work.’
Again Jane wondered if he was lonely.
‘I bet you don't get this sort of diversity up in Yorkshire,’ he said.
‘Lancashire,’ she corrected. ‘I'm from Manchester. That's in Lancashire.’
Keith shrugged. ‘Sorry, I've never really got to grips with the difference. I'm a London boy, you see. The rest of the country is just “not London” to me.’ He grinned, as if to take the sting out of his words.
As the meal went on, they talked about work and life. For some reason Keith had stopped trying to make a pass at her. Without the threat of lechery, Jane found he was surprisingly good company. When it was time to go back, she was genuinely sorry.
‘You know Jane,’ said Keith, as they walked back to the office, ‘I think we got off on the wrong foot. I know I can come across as a little … brash. It's like a nervous tick I have when I meet new people. I open my mouth and this horrendous crap comes out. It takes me a while to relax and be myself, if you see what I mean.’
She had suspected as much and felt sorry for judging him too hastily. She was glad she hadn't let herself be influenced by Marshall's prejudices and had taken the time to talk to Keith. ‘That's Ok. I wasn't offended by your anti-Northern stance.’
‘Oh that was for real,’ he said, grinning. ‘Can't stand Yorkshiremen.’
Jane laughed too. ‘Nowt good never came out of Yorkshire,’ she said solemnly. ‘'Cept road to Lancashire.’
Keith roared with laughter. ‘Is that a real saying?’
‘Oh yes. We Lancashire folk don't get on with Yorkshire folk. Well known fact.’
‘What, county rivalry? Like Kent and Essex?’
‘If you like.’
‘Brilliant. I shall have to remember that,’ Keith said, as they arrived at the entrance to their building. ‘Now, alas, I have to love you and leave you. I've got to get this opinion written by tomorrow and I haven't read half the documents yet.’ He held the door open for her. ‘It was nice talking to you properly. We should do this again sometime.’
Jane nodded. ‘That would be nice,’ she said. And meant it.
&nbs
p; Chapter Fifteen
From: Stevie, To: Marshall
Guess what Marsh, Buzz and I are coming down to London tonight to go to a gig. We'll be crashing at the flat after. Hope that's Ok with you. We're probably not going out until about ten, so fancy grabbing some takeout with us? Love Stevie.
##
From: Marshall, To: Stevie
I'm supposed to be inviting Jane over … I'll postpone if you guys are going to be there. I don't want to miss the opportunity to meet the famous Buzz. Will you two be staying the whole weekend? Marsh.
##
From: Stevie, To: Marshall
Shit. I forgot about Jane. Look, we'll find somewhere else to stay. Don't worry about it.
##
From: Marshall, To: Stevie
No, that's fine. It will be nice to see you and to meet Buzz. I can always have Jane round on Saturday. So long as you're not planning to stay the whole weekend …?
##
From: Stevie, To: Marshall
We'll clear off on Saturday afternoon, I promise. Can I meet Jane? It's only fair if you get to meet my boyfriend.
##
From: Marshall, To: Stevie
No. You can't meet her. Sorry. I've only seen her twice outside of work. I'd like to get to know her better before I introduce her to my sister.
##
From: Stevie, To: Marshall
From what I've heard you know her pretty well after yesterday. But fear not, brother dear. We'll be out of your hair by Saturday afternoon. Gotta go. Train in twenty minutes. See you later. Love Stevie.
##
From: Marshall, To: James
Drat. I was planning to cook a nice meal for Jane and Stevie emails to say that she and her no good boyfriend arecoming down for the weekend. Much as I love Stevie, she somehow manages to throw a spanner in my romantic aspirations. On the other hand, I get to meet Buzz, finally. I'll be interested to see if he is as in love with her as she is with him. Marsh.
##
From: James, To: Marshall
You shouldn't prejudge the poor guy, you know. Sounds like Stevie really likeshim, so it is possible he's totally besotted with her too. He may genuinely mean to pay back everything he's borrowed from her. Just because you were ultra sensible with money when you were a student, it doesn't mean everyone has to be. Jim.
##
From: James, To: Marshall
PS: Are you going to let Stevie have this Buzz guy sleeping in her room and risk them having sex while you're in the building? Or are you going to make him sleep on the sofa? Jim.
##
From: Marshall, To: James
Ugh. Why did you just do that? I hadn't even thought about it and now you've put it in my head. I'm guessing I don't have any choice in the matter anyway, she's too old for me to dictate that sort of thing now. Just you wait until Molly's old enough to have a boyfriend. I'm going to remind you of this. Marsh.
* * *
Work was becoming increasingly difficult. Despite the demanding deadlines on each new case, Jane was having trouble keeping her mind on the job. Her thoughts kept straying towards Marsh, who was only a flimsy office wall away from her. Occasionally, she would catch herself staring at the plasterboard, daydreaming to the muffled sound of his voice.
So far, she had managed to avoid bumping into him too often, but all her senses had been on high alert all day. As a result she felt physically and emotionally exhausted. It was almost a relief to be away from the office and back at the flat. She dug her keys out of her new bag and, remembering the last time, knocked. Loudly.
Polly pulled the door open. ‘You don’t have to keep hammering on the door like that. It won’t happen again.’
‘Better safe than sorry,’ said Jane, laughing.
‘Do you want a glass of wine? I was thinking wine and DVDs tonight.’ She gestured to the bottle on the coffee table.
‘I’m sorry, Pol. I’ve got plans.’ Giving Polly an apologetic smile, Jane hung up her handbag and coat and headed towards her room.
‘Where’s he taking you tonight?’ Polly shouted after her.
‘He's going to call me to sort out a time and place.’ She returned to the living room and fished her new phone out of her bag. Looking meaningfully at Polly, she took it into the bathroom with her.
Refreshed after her shower, Jane spent a few minutes in her room, blow-drying her hair so that it fell smoothly around her face. She was sitting on the bed, using a mirror that was propped on a bookcase to apply her make-up when Polly knocked.
‘It's open,’ she said.
Polly put her head round the door. ‘I've poured you a glass of wine.’ Her eyes drifted to the phone, which was lying on the bed, next to Jane. ‘Did he ring?’
‘Not yet,’ Jane looked at her watch. Seven o'clock. Perhaps Marsh was still at work.
‘He's probably on his way home. There's no reception on the underground.’
Jane set her eyeliner pencil aside and stood. ‘I think I'll come have that glass of wine in the living room.’
She followed Polly out and flopped onto the sofa. ‘Where's Andy tonight?’ She picked up the glass of wine Polly had poured.
‘Never mind him,’ said Polly. ‘Let’s talk about your fella. I need a fix of vicarious excitement. It’s just so … romantic. I haven't had excitement like that in … oh, years.’
‘But you've got Andy. And you love each other. All I've had so far is one night.’ Her gaze slid to the phone. Until now, she had been confident there was more to it than that, but the fact that Marsh hadn't rung yet was starting to worry her.
‘He'll call.’ As if on cue, the phone rang. Polly gave a little squeak.
Jane picked up the phone and walked towards the kitchen.
‘Hi Jane, it's Marsh.’
There was an awkward silence. Jane felt a creeping sense of unease. ‘Marsh?’
‘Jane, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to postpone meeting up. My sister and her boyfriend are descending on the flat tonight …’
‘Ok,’ said Jane, her mood starting to sink. ‘Do you want to go out instead?’
‘Well, I'd love to, but I really want to meet this guy … the boyfriend, I mean. I think he's … well, he's my sister's boyfriend. I should meet him.’ He sighed. ‘Jane, I'm really sorry to mess you about like this. Would you mind if we met up tomorrow instead? Stevie assures me they'll clear off by lunchtime, so we'd have the flat to ourselves for the rest of the weekend.’
‘Um …’ Jane stared at the shelves in the kitchen. He didn't want to see her that night. Perhaps he was having second thoughts. What should she say now? She didn't want to sound like she didn't care, but at the same time she didn't want to seem needy. She thought of the night they’d spent together and tears started to threaten. She blinked them back.
‘Jane?’ Marsh sounded anxious. ‘Are you still there?’
Jane cleared her throat. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘Jane, I promise you, I'm not playing mind games with you. I really truly do want to see you, but Stevie just dropped this on me with no notice.’
‘Right.’
‘So, tomorrow …?’
Jane turned around. Polly was sitting on the sofa, watching. If she said no to Marsh, she would have to put up with Polly's questions all weekend. ‘Sure,’ she said, almost a sigh. ‘Why not.’
‘Brilliant! Shall I meet you in Covent Garden? At about eleven?’
‘Ok,’ said Jane. She listened while he described the place to meet.
‘Sounds good,’ she said, trying not to let disappointment into her voice. ‘I'll see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes. I'm looking forward to it.’
‘Me too.’ Her voice came out too soft. ‘I'd better go. Bye.’
‘Bye.’
She hung up and stood still, staring at the phone, not sure how she felt.
‘Jane?’ Polly came up behind her. ‘What was that all about?’
‘He postponed until tomorrow lunchtim
e. His sister's introducing him to her boyfriend or something.’
‘And?’
Jane sighed. ‘And nothing, I guess. I'd just mentally prepared myself for seeing him tonight, that's all.’
Polly took her arm and propelled her towards the sofa. She thrust the glass of wine into Jane's hand. ‘That's not it, is it?’ She sat beside Jane and picked up her own glass.
Jane took a sip of wine. She closed her eyes and savoured the warmth of the alcohol going down her throat. Why was she so upset? It was just a cancelled date, with a perfectly plausible explanation. But then Ashby had always had plausible explanations for his sudden absences. A jam session with the guys, a meeting with their manager, going out for a drink after a recording. All very good reasons for his not coming home when he should. But only half of them had been true.
‘This is about Ashby, isn't it?’
Jane opened her eyes. ‘What?’
‘Just because Ashby lied to you doesn't mean that everyone else is going to lie to you too.’
‘I know that.’
‘So, why is the fact that Marsh postponed your date bothering you so much? It's not like he cancelled on you.’
‘I don't know. I just can't shake this feeling that something's not right.’
Polly leaned forward and took Jane's hand. ‘Jane, we've been friends since we were ten. I know you. Before this stuff with Ashby, you wouldn't have had a problem with someone moving a date. You were such a trusting person.’
‘Yes, and look where that got me. Not only did he cheat on me, he publicly humiliated me. I don't know which is worse.’
