by Hazel Osmond
If he had only been in touch, it would have made everything fine. Now here she was acting like a lovesick adolescent and ignoring her friends. After all the hours Lesley had sat and listened to her talk about Sam, the way she had looked after her.
She got up and went to find Lesley to apologise, but she was still wondering about Jack, still trying to work out if it would look too needy to actually give him a call.
How’s the weather in Manhattan? she texted the next day. Sunny, came back the reply. She tried again: Seen anybody famous? Hours later she got a curt No. Finally she plucked up her courage – I miss you, Jack – and sat and waited. And waited.
There was still no reply when she got to work on Thursday. No matter how many times she checked her mobile or her email, there was nothing.
Black, black fear took hold of her.
She stared at the copy she was meant to be editing and it might as well have been hieroglyphics. She got up and made a cup of coffee and tried to look at the copy again, but her hand kept straying to her mobile even though she knew that she would have heard if a text had arrived.
When Lesley walked in, Ellie shoved the phone in her drawer and put on her brightest face to listen to the latest developments in the Megan saga. At least she and Lesley were talking again. Lesley had been her creative partner and friend for years and she’d known Jack for how long? She despised how sad and stupid she was being but couldn’t shake herself out of this thing that appeared to be clamping on to her.
At lunchtime she went to find Ian so that she could work the conversation round to Jack.
‘So, how’s New York suiting Jack, then?’
‘Pretty well, I think. The negotiations with the American agency are going OK.’
‘What’s it called? Something Bootle?’
‘Bar Bootle.’
‘Well, don’t suppose Jack has seen much of the city itself, probably too busy.’
‘I think he’s been out and about quite a bit,’ Ian said, searching on his desk for something.
‘Right. What, being wined and dined?’
‘Knowing Jack, it will be wined, dined and that other thing ending in “ed” and starting with “f”.’ Ian sat down and smiled at his own cleverness and Ellie reassessed whether she did actually like him after all. ‘And if you’ll pardon me being crude, Ellie, I hope he is getting his end away. Might put a smile back on his face. He’s been walking around here like a bear with a sore arse for the last two weeks.’ Ian gave a loud laugh. ‘Perhaps he was missing you while you were on holiday, eh, Ellie?’
He continued to laugh uproariously at what he saw as the preposterousness of the suggestion and Ellie slunk back to her office doubly wounded: Jack had not only been socialising in New York, but during the time he’d been seeing her, he had been spectacularly miserable.
By Saturday, when Jack was due back in the country, Ellie was almost hysterical. A nasty little voice had taken up residence in her head saying, ‘What did you expect?’ over and over again. She stayed in bed most of the weekend, gnawing at her thumb and pretending she had a cold. It was hard to fight the urge to go to Jack’s flat and talk to him. If she could only see him, all would be well again; they could go back to what they were like before he’d left.
Edith was very kind and tactfully did not ask her about Jack.
On Sunday night Ellie could not sleep. Everything about that last evening that she and Jack had spent together told her that they were meant to be together, that he had developed deep feelings for her.
But everything about the past week told her that he had lost them pretty sharpish.
Her thoughts drove her out of bed and down to the kitchen to make toast. She took it back upstairs and couldn’t eat it. She fell asleep and dreamed of Jack, woke up again and thought he was in bed with her. Around about 5 a.m. she fell asleep, and when she woke up, it was past ten and she was very, very late for work.
By the time Ellie got off the bus, it was lunchtime. She hesitated outside the front entrance to the agency and wiped her hands down her skirt. Only one thing would be worse than bumping into Jack and that was not bumping into him.
Rachel was on her feet before Ellie had even reached the reception desk.
‘What a morning for you to be late, Ellie – you missed all the fun.’
‘Bit of a rush, Rachel.’ Ellie said, feeling too exposed. There was no way she could bump into Jack here and pretend nothing had happened.
She tried to get past Rachel, but she put out her arm and stopped her. ‘You’ve got to listen to this, Ellie. We’ve bought that agency, Bar Bootle, and guess what? Jack’s moving out to New York to run it.’
Ellie didn’t hear the rest of what Rachel said, all the details of when he was going and how sorry everybody would be to lose him.
She would not accept this version of reality. It was not the one she’d seen in that bed.
One last hope was left. ‘Is he taking anyone with him, Rachel?’ she said, straining to make her voice sound normal.
Rachel gave her a confused look and then said, ‘Oh … I see. No, Jack’s tried to persuade her to go with him, but Mrs MacEndry says she’s too old for New York. She’s been thinking of retiring for a while, so this has made her mind up.’
Ellie wanted to scream, ‘I don’t mean Mrs MacEndry, you stupid bitch. I mean me. Is he taking me?’ She stumbled across to the stairs and started to climb them. With every step the little house of potential happiness that she had built came crashing down.
That snide voice was back inside her head too. This time it was shouting, ‘What did you expect, a white wedding and lots of Jack-shaped kids? You knew what he was like.’
The ‘Jack is going to America’ story was all that people talked about that day, and every time she heard it Ellie wanted to strangle the person who was speaking. Even Lesley never shut up about it. She kept providing little updates with such glee that Ellie had to press her lips together to stop herself from screaming. Lesley had bumped into Jack coming out of the big board meeting and he’d told her he was going next week and had already found an apartment. They’d laughed that he had already started calling it that and not a flat. He’d seemed happy. And he was going to have a big leaving party at Zucchinis and everyone was invited. It was going to be a joint party with Mrs MacEndry to mark her retirement.
‘So, lucky old New York, eh, Ellie?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s all you’ve got to say? I mean, I know you and Jack have had your ups and downs, but you were getting on better recently. It’s going to be quiet around here without him.’
‘Yes. Look, sorry, Lesley, I’ve got a thumping headache.’
‘Thought you were off colour. Only a headache, is it?’
Ellie nodded slowly. ‘Didn’t sleep very well last night. Feel a bit wobbly.’ She got up and went to the mini-fridge to get the one bottle of water she knew was still in there and, while she was facing away from Lesley, asked, ‘When do you suppose Jack decided he was going to move to New York? I mean, has it been on the cards for a while?’
Before Lesley could answer, Ian stuck his head round the door.
‘Big creative meeting in Jack’s office in ten minutes. Catch up on the New York stuff and what’s happening on all the accounts.’
Ellie put the bottle back in the fridge and walked down to Jack’s office with all the enthusiasm of a woman going to stand in front of a firing squad.
‘Right, any more questions about New York and the operation there?’ Jack asked.
Juliette raised her hand. ‘Only, can I come with you, Jack?’
There was laughter around the room and Jack smiled down at the desk.
‘Hey, I get first refusal,’ Ian said.
There was more laughter from everyone and Ellie wanted to smack their stupid faces for them.
When she had first walked into the room and seen Jack, she knew that there must have been a mistake. He was going to turn round and come to her. They had been so close, so in
tertwined that he couldn’t possibly shrug her off like all the others. They had connected at some deep level that made another person seem somehow part of you. He’d felt that too, she was sure of it.
Well, he had turned round, but he hadn’t even glanced in her direction. She’d had to find a seat quickly to stop herself from falling down. Now all she could do was look at him. He seemed taller and stronger and even sexier than she remembered. Knowing every inch of his body made it even more appealing. But the sudden realisation had hit her that she was probably never going to hold him in her arms again, or get to know him any better, and the bitterness of that thought made her lower her gaze.
Back to staring at the same old carpet, but for a whole new set of reasons.
Jack started to speak again. ‘OK, as this is our last get-together, we’ll have a quick run-through where we stand on the major accounts and what’s in the pipeline. But first I think Ian has some news about the Sure & Soft campaign …’
Ian did a little drum roll on the desk with his hands. ‘Figures for audience recall of the ad are very high – it’s in the top five – and I had Pauline Kennedy on the phone this morning saying they are pleased … No, correction: they are delighted with the latest sales figures. She’s given the nod to roll out the poster and press campaign, and has changed her mind about the radio – she’s up for it now. We need to get the twenty-second ones polished up.’ Ian gave a sharp laugh. ‘I stopped myself from saying, “I told you so.” She’s also going to liaise with our Web guys about the design of their existing site … If you’ll pardon the pun, it’s pants. She’s keen to explore their Facebook presence too … Twitter … you name it … Bring them into the twenty-first century in fact.’ He turned to Ellie and Lesley. ‘So well done, you two.’
There was a little round of applause before Ian went on, ‘Also, of course, it’s had a good reception from everyone in the industry, which bodes well, come award season. Better get yourselves some posh frocks, girls.’
Ellie gave a little half-smile and then started to feel disconnected from everything around her. She was aware that Jack was talking them through various accounts and then there was something about being chosen to do work for a council in Yorkshire.
Just then she happened to glance up and caught his eye and there was absolutely no glimmer of anything there for her. No warmth, no guilt, no embarrassment. He was a stranger to her. His gaze passed right through her and he was on to the next subject.
She stood up abruptly and walked out of the room, only pausing in Mrs MacEndry’s office to say, ‘I’m sorry you’re retiring. I’ll miss you,’ before going up to her office, collecting her bag and going home.
Back in Jack’s room, Lesley explained how Ellie had been feeling ill since she’d got in and shouldn’t really have come to work at all. Jack nodded along with everyone else and then filled them in on what had happened with the yoghurt account.
CHAPTER 30
Jack opened the door of his flat and Ellie sensed that he wasn’t surprised to see her. Which made her feel worse: like he believed she was the kind of woman who habitually stalked men who chucked her.
‘I thought you’d gone home. Lesley said you’d been feeling ill.’
‘You made me feel sick.’
He regarded her coolly. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s it? You’re sorry?’
She saw his hand go to the knot in his tie. ‘If you’ve got something to say spit it out, Ellie. I’m a bit busy.’
She could not believe that this was the same man who had held her in his arms when she had been crying. He seemed to have had all the warmth sucked out of him.
‘When did you decide to go to New York?’
His hand strayed back to his tie, but he said nothing.
‘And all that lovey-dovey stuff the last night we were together, that was what?’
‘People say things in bed they don’t mean, Ellie. Come on, you’re an adult, you understand that.’
She didn’t know why she was doing this to herself; it was like picking at a sore. ‘I never tell people I love them if I don’t, Jack,’ she said, and heard the tremor in her voice.
He wouldn’t look at her. ‘I don’t know why you’re here, Ellie. We had a great time, a great two weeks, but these things don’t always work out.’
‘You aren’t going to let it, you mean?’ she shot back.
Jack didn’t answer.
‘I’m asking you again, when did you decide to go to New York?’
‘I don’t see what relevance that has to anything.’
‘It makes a difference to me whether you knew before we got together or not.’
He wasn’t going to give her an answer to that, she could tell. She swallowed rapidly, determined she was not going to cry.
‘It was just sex, then, was it, Jack? Another notch?’
He nodded.
‘You’re lying, Jack. You’re not that good an actor. You’re running away from me for some reason and I don’t know what it is. The things you said, the way you looked at me—’
Jack cut across her impatiently. ‘Look, Ellie, I’m sorry if you thought that there was more to it than there was.’
That was the point at which she lost her resolve to be dignified and calm. ‘But you don’t normally have sex with the women you work with,’ she wailed.
She saw Jack take a step back and there was a nasty set to his mouth. ‘True,’ he said, ‘but perhaps I’m psychic. Perhaps I knew we wouldn’t be working together for much longer.’
‘I don’t recognise you like this, Jack. It’s as if you’re thinking of the cruellest things to say to drive me away.’
‘Cruel to be kind, Ellie. No use giving you false hope. It’s over.’
Ellie could feel the tears running down her face. Her breath was coming in big gasps. ‘I … I … have deep feelings for you, Jack. You know that. You let me tell you that the last time we were together. And you said you couldn’t get enough of me, you wanted to protect me. Yet now you do this? I don’t know why you’re being so cold to me. If you wanted to end it, why not be honest?’
Jack turned away from her and went to go into his flat. Ellie reached out and grabbed hold of his arm and yanked him back. She couldn’t even speak now, she was sobbing so hard.
‘Ellie,’ he said without looking at her, ‘it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have got involved with you. Having sex with someone you work with is always a bad idea. They start to read too much into it. They think that they know you better than the other people you work with.’ He shook her hand from his arm. ‘Well, you don’t know me, Ellie. All you know is what I’m like in bed and there’s a long list of women who know that.’
It was too brutal and Ellie tried to reach out for him again. He dodged away from her and folded his arms and watched her cry.
At some point he said, in a matter-of-fact tone, ‘You’ll feel better about this soon. Nothing has altered at work. I still think you’re a brilliant copywriter and there are more big changes coming to your department. I can’t tell you what yet, but changes for the better. For you and Lesley. You deserve what’s coming.’
‘What, for sleeping with you?’ she managed to blurt out.
The look he gave her was filled with distaste. ‘I’m not even going to bother talking to you, Ellie, if you’re going to be stupid like that.’ He moved quickly into his flat and slammed the door behind him, leaving her standing there.
When he looked out through the spyhole a few minutes later, she had gone.
Ellie never made it into work the following day, and when she did return, she kept to her office. She didn’t want to see Jack and she certainly didn’t want him to hear she was moping around. She couldn’t bear him to feel sorry for her. Although judging by his performance outside his flat, he actually didn’t feel anything at all for her any more.
She put her head down and surreptitiously wiped her eyes. Her official line was that she had some kind of virusy-cold thing. A virusy-cold thing that ma
de her eyes red, her bottom lip wobbly and plastered a look of permanent misery over her face.
She wished she could talk to Lesley, but everything was too raw to put into words. Having any kind of conversation about it seemed impossible.
She had to go through the motions of being a fully functioning human while, two floors down, the man she loved got ready to leave her behind.
She couldn’t even comfort herself that she’d got over Sam and it was only a matter of time before she started to feel better about Jack. She was never going to feel better about Jack. Simple as that, she knew it in her bones. A part of her had been missing before he’d come along and it would go missing again when he went.
She had only managed to write two words of copy since she’d got into work. Not a great output, especially as one of them was a ground-breaking ‘and’. Any minute now Lesley was going to notice that she wasn’t in fact doing anything and ask her for the third time in an hour whether she should have come back to work so soon.
Ellie put down her pen and took herself off to the toilets for some solitude and yet another chance to gnaw away at her thumb and at all those things about that last night together with Jack that didn’t make sense. Did she have to face the fact that it had all been an act on Jack’s part? She definitely wasn’t ready for that yet.
When she returned to the office, Ian was sitting in her chair waiting for her.
‘Ah, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie,’ he said with a ‘little boy in trouble’ look on his face. ‘That’s a lovely top you’ve got on today. The red kind of matches your eyes.’
‘What do you want, Ian?’ she said abruptly.
‘Got another little problem. I’m meant to be going up to Yorkshire, preliminary talks with these council people. It’s that account Jack was talking about, the one he got through his old contacts?’ He stood up to let her sit in her chair and then perched on the edge of the desk. ‘It’ll be a quick visit – up in one day and back the next – going tomorrow. But my wife has rung. Looks like Josh has come down with chickenpox, and what with the baby not being weaned yet, she’s demented. I don’t suppose you fancy a trip?’
