by Rhoda Baxter
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From: Indra, To: Valerie
Ooh, it does sound exciting over there. So, do you think it's Jane that Keith and Eric having been plotting over? Eric made me cancel the booking, so I take it that Keith lost the bet. Indra.
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From: Valerie, To: Indra
I can't believe that Keith! What a toerag. No wonder Marsh was angry. I hope this doesn't affect his chances of becoming a partner. At least he didn't hit Keith. That would have been very bad. But all that doesn't explain why Jane shouted at Marsh. Any ideas? Val.
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From: Susan, To: Marshall, Jane, Valerie
What the hell is going on? May I remind you that I'm meeting our client tomorrow, for which I need your report, Marshall.
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From: Marshall, To: Susan
I'm sorry,Susan, but it looks like I'll have to take the whole day off. I will make sure the report gets to you by the end of today. Marsh.
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From: James, To: Marshall
Are you Ok?
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From: Marshall, To: James
I'm all right. From what I can gather, fucking Keith has put the knife in. He told Jane that I told the reporter where we'd be. I knew he was up to something. I wouldn't be surprised if he did it himself. I'm on my way to Jane's, to see if I can make her see that I would never do that to her. I knew how much she wanted to just disappear. I would never sabotage that. To be honest, I'm offended that she believed Keith so readily in the first place.
* * *
Jane sat on the underground train, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. All around her mid-morning travellers ignored each other. No one seemed to notice that she was crying or, if they did, they looked away. Jane was grateful. A kind word would have opened the floodgates all over again.
She felt bruised and defeated. When she made the move to London she had felt as though she was bravely spreading her wings and striking off by herself. Sure, she'd had to move in with Polly, but that was a short term thing until she found somewhere for herself. And then when she met Marsh, she'd thought she was moving away from her disastrous relationship with Ashby.
Perhaps she'd just moved from dependence on one man to depending on another. How else could she explain how desolate she felt?
She had trusted Marsh. He had seemed so kind and reliable, the polar opposite of Ashby. It had never occurred to her he might hurt her in almost exactly the same way.
Her vision blurred as fresh tears gathered. She brushed them away.
By the time she got home, Jane had stopped crying. She dialled Polly's number, but went straight to answerphone. ‘It's Jane,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘I've found out who told the magazine. It was Marsh. I'm at home. Call me when you can.’
She felt totally drained. The lack of sleep didn't help. Hoping to clear her head, she made herself a strong coffee. After a couple of sips, she decided she needed something stronger and was looking through Polly's alcohol cupboard when someone knocked.
Jane jumped, knocking over a bottle of Amaretto. Should she pretend she wasn't in?
‘Jane?’ Even through the door she recognised Marsh's voice.
She stood still, hoping he would think there was no one in and go away.
‘Jane, I know you're in there,’ he said after a minute. ‘I heard you moving around.’
Still she said nothing.
‘Please, Jane. I didn't do any of those things Keith said. I swear.’
Feeling as though she no longer had the strength to stand, Jane tiptoed across to the living room and lowered herself onto the sofa.
‘I'm not going away. I'm going to wait right here until you talk to me. You can't hide in there forever.’ There was a sliding noise as if he had sat down against the door.
After a few minutes she heard the soft clicking of keys. Was he working? Jane shook her head, not sure what annoyed her more – the fact that he was sitting outside waiting for her to open the door, or that he was working whilst doing so.
Polly phoned during her lunch hour. Jane grabbed the ringing phone and dashed into her bedroom.
‘What happened?’ Polly sounded slightly muffled, as though she were speaking through a mouthful of sandwich.
Tears prickled her eyes again, but didn't fall as Jane told her what had happened. She had calmed down now, so only anger remained, burning in her stomach like acid.
Polly listened without interrupting. ‘Hmm. And Marsh denies it all?’
‘Well he would, wouldn't he? He's still going out with Dominique and seeing me on the side.’
‘Whoa! Is he?’ said Polly. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, Keith told me. It makes sense Pol. He's forever checking his phone and he won't commit to anything without checking his diary.’
‘Maybe he's just diary obsessive?’
‘What? Even outside of work? He claims he doesn't have a social life, so what's to check?’
‘Hmm.’ Polly fell silent. ‘I'm so sorry, Jane,’ she said, eventually. ‘He seemed so nice.’
‘I know.’ Jane lay down on her bed and looked at the little rectangle of ceiling. ‘I can't believe I fell for a two-timing rat again. I really must have “idiot” printed on my forehead.’
‘You don't!’ said Polly. ‘Besides, I liked him too. I encouraged you to go out with him. I'm as much to blame as you.’
Jane gave a derisive laugh. ‘I'm a big girl. I didn't have to listen to you. It's all my own stupid fault. Clearly, I've learnt nothing from my experience with Ashby.’
‘Oh Jane, don't say that. Listen, I won't be done here for a few hours, but I'll come straight home afterwards and we'll talk. Ok?’
Jane wondered whether she should mention the fact that Marsh was outside the flat. She decided not to. After all, by the time Polly got home, he would have got bored and left.
Chapter Twenty-Four
From: Stevie, To: Marshall
I've just had a call from Lou. She said that you threatened to hit that Keith bloke and then walked out. What's happened? Are you Ok? And if you're not here and you're not at work, where are you? Stevie. x
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From: Marshall, To: Stevie
I'm sitting in the corridor outside Jane's apartment. She won't let me in, but I can hear her moving around inside. In regards to what happened – I told you about the photographer last night. Well, that fuckingKeith has persuaded Jane that I told the magazine where she was. At least, that's what I gather from my encounter with Jane. She shouted at me and then stormed out of the office before I could ask her what the hell she was talking about. At first I couldn't figure out why she would think that I'd gone to a magazine, then I realised that Keith must have been working on this for a while. First he complains about me to the discipline committee, thenhe dumps a weak case on me at the last minute, now this. Well, I lost it a bit. He didn't deny any of it. But he knows I can't prove anything. He seemed to find the whole thing funny. He then said something about Jane whichI'm too polite to repeat. I barely stopped myself from smashing his face in. Now I'm sitting in a dimly lit corridor, waiting for her to open the door so that I can explain. Thank goodness the netbook has backlighting. My report is hard enough to read without having to squint at it. M.
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From: Stevie, To: Marshall
Oh Marsh! How awful. I never did like Keith. What a total fucker! Netbook? Report? Hang on, are you working??? Stevie.
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From: Marshall, To: Stevie
Of course I'm working. I've got to keep my billing hours up. And I have a deadline to meet. I don't know why I'm bothering though. I've probably buggered up my chances of promotion for good now. Apart from the whole making a scene in the office thing, I nearly hit a colleague. I'm sure the partners will take a very dim view of that sort of thing. Great. I've ballsed up my career and my love life in one morning. Fabulous.
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From: Terence, To: Susan
Su
san, what the hell is going on with your staff? Keith has just made an official complaint against Marshall. Apparently, he threatened to hit him but, as far as I can gather, didn't actually hit him – Keith was a little evasive on this point. I can't ignore this, obviously. Terry.
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From: Susan, To: Terence
I doubt Marshall would have attacked Keith for no reason. Heaven knows,I've been tempted to hit Keith myself a few times. Let me find out what's going on before you launch an official investigation. I'll talk to their respective secretaries and see if they can shed some light onto the situation. Susan.
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From: Terence, To: All Staff
Subject: Mr Marshall Winfield and Mr Keith Durridge.
Both of the aforementioned will be suspended pending investigation of certain allegations. The door-code has been changed. The investigation will be carried out by Susan Jameson and Alison Sallet. Terry Wattley on behalf of the partners.
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From: James, To: Marshall
Fwd: Mr Marshall Winfield and Mr Keith Durridge
Have you seen this?
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From: Marshall, To: James
Yeah. I've just seen it. Bang goes my promotion then. Never mind. I'm past caring, to be honest. If I can just talk to Jane and sort all of thisout, I'll be happy. Although if I knew I'd get into this much trouble, I would have actually punched Keith. My life would still be ruined, but at least I would have had the satisfaction that he would need new teeth. Marshall.
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From: James, To: Marshall
Stevie says that you're sitting outside Jane's apartment? Is this true? Man, you must have it bad. I'll do what I can for you at this end. Jim.
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From: Marshall, To: James
What can I say? I love her. I realise that now more than ever. I still can't believe she'd take Keith's word over mine. M.
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From: Jane, To: Ashby
My job is in jeopardy,my relationship with Marsh is a mess. My life is totally destroyed. I hope you're happy. Jane.
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From: Ashby, To: Mike
Dude. Had an email from Jane. She's really upset. I didn't realise your plan would mess with her personal life so much. Any chance we could call this off? Ashby.
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From: Mike, To: Ashby
I explained the strategy to you and you agreed with it at the time. Too late to call it off now. Besides, it's working. Have you seen Twitter? Everyone is talking about you. And your album will be out next week. The timing is perfect, even though I say so myself! Now, you let me worry about the publicity and you guys concentrate on what you do best! Make music.
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From: Pete, To: Mike
Call off the hounds or we go public about it all being a gimmick. Pete, Josh, Lee and Ashby. PS: We mean it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jane crept up to the door and peered through the spyhole. She couldn't see anything. Just as she was about to retreat again, Marsh's head popped up.
‘I thought I heard you walking.’ His face was distorted by the spyhole.
Jane knew he couldn't actually see her. ‘Go away.’
‘Not until you talk to me.’
‘No.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘you don't actually have to open the door for me to talk to you.’
Jane put her fingers in her ears. She could hear muffled sounds of Marsh talking as she walked back to her room, but couldn't make out the words. Fine. There was nothing he could say that could make this better.
* * *
Text from: Stevie, To: Marsh
How r u getting on? Any progress?
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Text from: Marsh, To: Stevie
No progress. She won't open the door or even talk to me through it. I really, REALLY need coffee, but I can't leave here.
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Text from: Stevie, To: Marsh
Why don't u call up the local café and see if they'll deliver one?
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Text from: Marsh, To: Stevie
Don't be ridiculous. Can you imagine the conversation? ‘Where would you like it delivered to?’ ‘The corridor outside flat 32, please.’ ‘Flat 32, got it.’ ‘No, the corridor outside. Oh, and there's no point buzzing to be let in, she won't let you in. You need to ask the guy at the desk to send you up to the floor …’ No, I think I'll have to remain caffeine-less for now.
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Text from: Stevie, To: Marshall
How did u get in, if she didn't buzz u in?
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Text from: Marsh, To: Stevie
I followed someone else in. I just have to hope she's not so cross that she calls security.
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From: Stevie, To: Valerie
Val, have you got an email address or phone number for Jane Porter? Marsh is sitting outside her flat, trying to talk to her and she's not letting him in. He's had about twohours sleep and only one cup of coffee. Things could go horribly wrong if someone doesn't do something. Love Stevie.
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From: Valerie, To: Stevie
I only have her work email address: [email protected]. I'll see if I can get any more info from HR. Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to divulge this sort of information. Val.
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From: Stevie, To: Jane
Hi Jane. My name's Stevie Winfield. I'm Marsh's sister. I don't know if you can pick up your work emails from home. Marsh told me what happened. I just wanted to say that he would NEVER do what you accused him of. Let me tell you about my brother. When my parents died, I was thirteen and he was twenty-one. He became my legal guardian. Rather than give up uni, he bought the flat for us to live in, and he studied, did up the flat and looked after me all at the same time. He became my mum and dad and my best friend as well as my brother. Any semblance of normality I have in my life is because of him. Does that sound like the sort of man who would betray the girl he loves, just to get his face in the paper? Also, his career was the only part of his life that he felt like he had any control over and he threw himself into it. It means the world to him. Trust me, I know. There is NO WAY he would jeopardise this promotion by doing something like this. I understand that you got your information from Keith. He's a sleazebag and not above lying and cheating. He made a pass at me when I was seventeen. I wouldn't believe a word he says. That's all, really. Marsh loves you. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you. Stevie xxxx
* * *
Jane was stalking around the flat, trying to ignore the fact that Marsh was still on the other side of the front door. If she stood still and listened, she could hear soft tip-tap of his fingers on the keyboard. An image of him, sitting hunched up on the floor, working, floated into her mind. She shook her head and turned on the TV. Loud.
It was odd, knowing he was out there. It was almost like it was before, when she had been trapped in the flat, unable to go out because of people lying in wait for her outside. At least she wasn't frightened of Marsh. Angry, yes, but not frightened. She tried to concentrate on what was on telly. At some point in the middle of Murder She Wrote, she fell asleep.
The sound of voices in the corridor woke her. Marsh was talking to someone. Jane hit the mute button on the TV and listened. Polly's voice. She heard them talk back and forth, and then Polly's key grated in the lock. She sprang to her feet and spun round to face the door.
Polly smiled at her apologetically. ‘I think there's someone here wanting to talk to you.’ She stepped aside to let Marsh through.
Ever since her conversation with Keith, Jane had been seething about Marsh and what he'd done. In her mind, she'd painted him as two-faced and evil. But the Marsh who shuffled in, still stuffing his computer into his bag, looked anything but evil. His hair was a mess, there were bags under his eyes and his suit was crumpled, just as though he'd been sitting on the floor in it.
Completely against her better
judgement, Jane felt the urge to throw her arms around him when he gave her a tentative smile.
She remembered why she was angry and pulled herself together. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Hear me out,’ he said.
Behind him, Polly slipped away to her room.
Jane crossed her arms. ‘Fine.’
‘I didn't do it. All that stuff you accused me of, I didn't do any of it.’