The Road Ahead

by Amanda Radley

  She took a step closer, leaning on the handrail beside Arabella and looking out at the illuminated cityscape.

  She remained quiet, wishing that Arabella would speak again.

  After a few moments, the woman let out a sigh. “I don’t want to marry Alastair. I think I’ve always known that, I just didn’t see any other option. He’s a nice enough man. Trust me, I’ve dated worse. But I’m… well, I’m trapped in this engagement now. I don’t expect you to understand, but my life has been mapped out for me. There are certain things I’m expected to do. And I always knew that, and I was always comfortable with that. But now the time is here, I’m scared. But it’s too late to turn back now.”

  “It’s never too late,” Rebecca promised.

  Arabella laughed bitterly. “Oh, it is, believe me. Everyone knows about the engagement, everyone is planning for the wedding, and what comes after. To pull out now would be such a public disaster. Not to mention that it wouldn’t change anything. If I didn’t marry Alastair then I’d just end up marrying someone else. Better the devil you know.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Rebecca agreed. “Because, like, it is the dark ages and you’re totally going to be auctioned off to a man anyway, so you might as well pick this one, right? And getting married means that your life is over. You need to stay home and let the men deal with the business while you pump out babies and arrange dinner parties.”

  Arabella looked up at her. She raised her eyebrow.

  “Ouch,” she said without feeling.

  “I just don’t get it,” Rebecca continued. “You’re brilliant, you’re intelligent, impressive, you’re clearly an important part of the business. Why do you have to give all that up?”

  “I—”

  “Actually, I don’t want to hear your answer,” Rebecca cut her off. “Just answer me this question: do you want to? Do you want to marry someone you obviously don’t love? Do you want to give up work? And, do you want to be some weird Stepford Wife?”

  “That’s not the point,” Arabella countered.

  “Yeah, it is. It’s completely the point. Come on, Arabella, you just saw how short and unfair life can be. I may not know you that well, but I know you are motivated and you seem to like challenges. You must have a list of things you want to accomplish in your life? Have you done them? Or will you do them after you’re married? I can’t see you having a bucket list that consists of making the perfect omelette, whisking eggs into a perfect velvety scramble or whatever you have to do to make a perfect omelette. I just don’t think they are the accomplishments you want to tick off, but maybe I’m wrong?”

  The waiter returned. “Excuse me.”

  Rebecca turned around and smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said as she took both of the drinks, handing the champagne to Arabella.

  Arabella mumbled her gratitude and took the glass, retreating back to her view of the dark water.

  “I’m sorry,” Rebecca muttered.

  She didn’t know why she felt the need to push Arabella. It was like she had a personal mission to stop her from giving up work and, more importantly, marrying someone she didn’t love.

  But she didn’t know why it was so important to her. She hardly knew Arabella and she was trying to fix her life.

  “You don’t need to apologise, you’re right,” Arabella confessed. “I got myself into a mess, and I need to get myself out of it. I’m not quite sure how to do that, but I will. I shan’t spend the rest of my days making award-winning omelettes.”

  Rebecca smiled so hard it hurt her cold cheeks. She wrapped her hands tightly around the hot chocolate mug, enjoying the feeling of warmth against her cold palms.

  “I should thank you,” Arabella continued. She still leaned on the handrail, but now turned to focus all of her attention on Rebecca. “Seriously, you’ve been a pain in my side since the moment I met you, but I am so glad I met you.”

  “You have a funny way of saying thank you,” Rebecca pointed out.

  “You opened my eyes, and that’s not an easy thing to do,” Arabella carried on, ignoring her comment. “If I’d caught that plane and flown home as planned, I don’t think I ever would have addressed that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. So, thank you.”

  Arabella took a step forward and placed a soft kiss on Rebecca’s cheek.

  Rebecca cursed that she had stood in the cold wind for so long that her cheek was numb. To make up for the dulled nerve endings in her cheek, she quickly inhaled the complex aroma of Arabella’s perfume.

  “You’re welcome,” Rebecca managed to say. She was relieved when she got the words out and realised that she hadn’t stuttered or squeaked. “And thank you, I couldn’t have managed today without you.”

  “Oh, you would’ve been fine.” Arabella returned to her place, leaning on the handrail.

  Rebecca wanted to step closer but knew it was inappropriate. She was emotionally drained, as was Arabella. But Arabella was also tired and probably on her way to being drunk. And Rebecca didn’t know if she just wanted some human comfort or if what she was starting to feel for Arabella was something more.

  She noticed Arabella shiver slightly.

  “Maybe we should head inside?” she suggested.

  “We can’t enjoy the view from in there,” Arabella commented.

  “I can,” Rebecca replied with a sigh as she gazed at Arabella. “I—I mean, the windows are fine. We can… see the view through the… the windows.”

  Arabella was too busy deciding what to do with her glass as she looked at her crutch to catch Rebecca’s rambling. Rebecca reached out and took the champagne glass from her.

  “Thank you.” Arabella adjusted her crutch and made her way slowly towards the door to the interior seating area.

  Rebecca followed her, chastising herself for her slip.

  Arabella was straight, and Rebecca didn’t want to fall into the lesbian stereotype of hitting on any attractive woman with a pulse. She could just be friends with Arabella, especially as the friendship would probably only last a few more hours. Until Arabella sobered up and realised that she was hanging out with someone so far below her status. Eventually Arabella would decide that it was time to go home, and that would be the end of whatever it was they had.

  Rebecca was grateful that she’d had Arabella’s help and companionship as long as she had. She knew that time was running out and now she just needed to enjoy the company, build some positive memories of this terrible and messed-up Christmas Day.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Two Weeks Later

  * * *

  Arabella hung up the phone. She pulled her laptop closer and typed some notes into the system.

  “Helen, can you get the contract ready for Mrs Simmons? She wants to come in this afternoon to sign,” she called out.

  Arabella’s assistant Helen entered her office. “I’ll get it printed out in a moment; any idea what time she will be here?”

  Arabella laughed. “As usual, she’s not been helpful enough to provide a time.”

  Helen took some files from Arabella’s out-tray and put the morning post in the in-tray. She fussed around the desk, removing screwed-up pieces of paper and picking up the three used coffee mugs.

  “Make sure you take some time to have lunch today. I know it’s busy, but you have to eat.”

  Arabella looked up at her assistant and smiled. “Thank you, I’ll do my best.”

  “Don’t think I don’t recognise that tone.”

  “What tone?” Arabella asked.

  “The one you use to appease customers,” Helen pointed out. “That means you won’t do whatever you say you will do.”

  Arabella opened a file on her desk and started to read through the papers.

  “You know it’s January, right? Our busiest time of year? Everyone who put their life on hold for December has suddenly woken up from their turkey-induced coma and wants everything done yesterday.”

  Helen let out a long-suffering sigh. She stood in front o
f the desk and looked impatiently at her.

  “Fine, fine. I will try to make some time,” Arabella reassured her.

  She had no idea where she would find that time, though. The pile of work on her desk was growing exponentially each day. She pressed some buttons on the keyboard to print the document she was working on.

  “We have to get the new keys cut for Monmouth Street,” Arabella said. “I suppose I could do that on my way back from my dinner appointment with the Chinese investors.”

  “It’s already done. They’re in my desk drawer,” Helen replied.

  She pointed to a high stack of files that sat on the floor beside Arabella’s desk. “Are those to be filed?”

  Arabella glanced at them and felt a pang of guilt for letting them grow into an unmanageable mess over the past few days.

  “Yes, but I’ll do it,” she said.

  “I can do it,” Helen offered.

  “It’s my mess, I’ll clean it up later this afternoon,” Arabella offered.

  Helen raised an eyebrow and shook her head. It was taking a while for Helen to get used to the new Arabella. The post-Christmas Arabella.

  She turned around to see why her printer hadn’t sprung to life. A message regarding the toner flashed on the small screen. It wasn’t a surprise, January really was a hectic month and the device had been spitting out contracts like they were going out of fashion.

  She turned back to her laptop and reprinted the document in the main office instead.

  “Well, if you change your mind, let me know,” Helen instructed gently.

  Helen was the kind of person who wouldn’t take any crap from Arabella, but still knew who was boss. Arabella enjoyed working with her because she knew that Helen wouldn’t hesitate to tell her off if necessary.

  She leaned on the desk and pushed herself to standing. She picked up her crutch and started to make her way to the main office to get her freshly printed documents, hoping that toner was holding up better.

  “I’ll be fine,” she reassured Helen as they left her office.

  The shop was buzzing with people, and she quickly looked around to check that everything looked satisfactory. All staff members were on the phones or speaking directly with customers.

  She walked to the corner and saw her documents shooting out of the top of the printer. Once the job was finished, she picked up the still-warm papers and started to check through the details one last time.

  “Can I help you?” she heard the receptionist say.

  “I’m here to see Arabella Henley,” a familiar voice replied.

  Arabella heart beat a little faster. She pretended she hadn’t heard the conversation and glanced up at the glass window in front of her to check her reflection. She didn’t know why it mattered to her, but she casually tamed her hair regardless.

  “Miss Henley?” the receptionist asked as she approached.

  “Yes?” Arabella asked, wishing she’d bothered making a note of the new girl’s name. It would look better if she knew her name.

  “There’s a Miss Edwards here to see you.”

  Arabella took a calming breath before looking up and towards Rebecca. She tried to look calm and put together, but she wasn’t sure she was managing it.

  Rebecca stood nervously in the reception area, holding a large bouquet of flowers and waving at her. Arabella raised her hand to wave back, but, at the last minute, thought better of the geeky gesture. She turned it into a gesture for Rebecca to come and join her.

  “Thank you,” she said to the receptionist, giving her permission to go back to her desk.

  “Well, hello there, Miss Edwards,” Arabella said once Rebecca had approached her. “Lovely to see you again.”

  “Hi,” Rebecca replied. Her eyes roamed over Arabella quickly. “You’re looking good… I mean well, you’re looking well.”

  Arabella grinned. She could cope better with her own nerves if she knew Rebecca was just as nervous.

  “Thank you, you do too.”

  “These are for you.” Rebecca gestured to the flowers.

  “They’re beautiful, you didn’t have to do that, though.”

  Arabella noticed a few members of staff were starting to stare at them. It wasn’t unusual for a grateful client to bring in a gift, but Arabella didn’t work on cases alone, so they would all know that Rebecca was not a client.

  “I wanted to. It’s not much, but I wanted to say thank you.” She looked around. “Is there somewhere you want me to put them?”

  “Oh, yes, let’s go into my office,” Arabella said. She grabbed her crutch and started to wedge the papers under her arm. Rebecca took the papers from her.

  “Don’t want them to get creased,” she explained.

  Arabella found herself speechless. She briefly wondered why she so readily accepted help from Rebecca but shunned it from everyone else. She pushed the thought to one side and turned to lead them towards her office.

  “Helen, could you get a vase?” she asked as she crossed the threshold.

  Helen looked up from the filing cabinet, from Arabella to Rebecca with a smile.

  “Of course, Miss Henley. Would you like tea and coffee?” Helen asked.

  “Yes, please,” Arabella quickly replied. She purposefully didn’t ask Rebecca. If she made the assumption, then the girl would be forced to stay out of politeness.

  At the very back of her mind she remembered the numerous tasks she had to do today. Now they seemed to fade in significance. She could take a few minutes.

  She gestured to a chair in front of her desk and placed her crutch in their usual place by the filing cabinet. She took the flowers out of Rebecca’s hands and looked at them in more detail.

  “These are lovely.” She’d seen a lot of bouquets in her time in property management, these somehow seemed brighter and fresher than the others that had come before.

  “I’m glad you like them, you’re hard to buy for,” Rebecca said. She took the proffered seat and looked around the office.

  “I am not,” Arabella argued.

  Rebecca chuckled. “Are we disagreeing already? I’ve barely sat down.”

  “I’ll disagree with you if you make ridiculous statements.” Arabella sniffed and put the flowers down gently on the edge of her large desk. She sat in her chair and looked at Rebecca.

  “How are you?”

  Rebecca paused her inspection of the office and looked at Arabella.

  “I’m okay. Getting back out into the real world.”

  Arabella’s heart sunk at the thought of Rebecca only now picking up the pieces and rebuilding her life. The last two weeks of her life had passed in a blur of activity. The thought of Rebecca having slogged through each day ate at her.

  She had wanted to get in touch with Rebecca but knew that she had already intruded far too much. She had to keep reminding herself that they were not friends. Circumstance and nothing more had brought them together. Rebecca didn’t want to hear about Arabella’s life, and she didn’t need support from her either. She presumably had hundreds of friends who could offer her much better support.

  “Nice office,” Rebecca commented. She angled herself around to take in the large, modern space.

  “Thank you. I like it.”

  Rebecca chewed her lip.

  “Out with it,” Arabella demanded.

  The girl laughed. “I was just wondering how to ask something without sounding really nosey.”

  “That ship has clearly sailed, what do you want to know?”

  “Alastair?” Rebecca asked, a light blush appearing on her cheeks.

  “Gone,” Arabella said.

  “Oh.” Rebecca sounded surprised. She pointed to Arabella’s finger. “I thought you might have had second thoughts?”

  Arabella looked at the large diamond ring that still sat on her engagement finger. She toyed with it, spinning it distractedly.

  “Not everyone knows, so we’re keeping up appearances for a while. He’s moved out, but it takes a while to tell
everyone, without spooking investors.”

  “I’ll pretend I understand what any of that means.” Rebecca grinned. “I’m just glad you’re not marrying him. He was an idiot.”

  Arabella chuckled. “Tell me what you really think, why don’t you?”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Arabella called out.

  Helen entered the room with a tray. She placed it on the desk and looked at the flowers.

  “Would you like me to deal with the flowers for you?” Helen asked.

  “Yes, please,” Arabella said.

  She looked at the tray in front of them. It was the standard client tray with teas, coffee, and biscuits. She picked up the two cups and saucers and placed them on her desk.

  “Oh, these are lovely,” Helen said as she picked up the flowers.

  “Yes, they are. Miss Edwards has good taste,” Arabella said, winking at Rebecca.

  Helen took the flowers and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  “The last time I was called Miss Edwards I was at school. It normally came just before the phrase ‘you’ll be staying after school’,” Rebecca said.

  “Were you a bad girl?” Arabella asked, a light heat on her cheeks at the unintended double entendre. “Tea or coffee?” she asked quickly to gloss over the misstep.

  “I had my moments,” Rebecca said. “Coffee, please. I bet you were a proper goody two-shoes at school.”

  Arabella poured coffee into one of the cups and pushed it towards Rebecca.

  “Help yourself to milk and sugar. Actually, you’re right, I was a goody two-shoes as you call it. I was a prefect, then head girl.”

  Rebecca leaned forward and picked up the tiny silver tongs and started to load up her coffee with sugar cubes.

  “Did you ever have detention?”

  Arabella poured herself some hot water and added a teabag. She leaned back in her chair while she waited for it to infuse.

  “Once,” she confessed. “I was caught kissing a boy behind the gym building when I should have been in a science lesson.”