by Rhoda Baxter
"Not sacked, exactly. Just encouraged her to leave."
Jane was about to ask more questions, when Ruth's phone rang. She gave an apologetic glance and answered it, leaving Jane to stare at her screen, digesting what she had just heard.
* * * *
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
Erm, Marsh, can you send me the MOT money, please? It's getting quite urgent...
Love
Stevie
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: Stevie Winfield
Shouldn't you ask Buzz to pay it? After all, he owes you a lot more than that.
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
Geez. It's only a hundred quid. You'd think it was YOUR money!
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: Stevie Winfield
It IS my money. I'm not letting you use your trust fund to subsidise your boyfriend. What are you going to do if he leaves you, having borrowed most of your cash?
Honestly, Stevie. I know you think he's perfect right now, but can you really be sure? I mean, he's borrowed money from you three times in the past 2 months and hasn't paid you back. Doesn't that suggest he doesn't ever intend to?
M
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
You know, your problem is that you don't trust people. Just because Dominique hurt you, doesn't mean everyone is out to get you.
Look, I need to get the car MOT'd. I can't afford to pay it any other way. So, will you give me the money or not?
S
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: Stevie Winfield
Fine. I'll LEND you the money. I would like you to pay me back within two months.
Marsh
PS: This has nothing to do with Dominique.
##
From: Stevie Winfield
To: Marshall Winfield
Stop acting like you're Dad. You're not.
Chapter 6
From: Mike Taylor
To: Ashby
Guys. We're all set for launching the new album in three weeks' time. The publicity campaign is ready to go too. We're going to try and market Ashby, rather than just the band. If I can get one of the gossip mags to pick it up, we could go viral, which would be fantastic.
Mike
##
From: Jeremy and Marjorie Porter
To: Jane Porter
Dear Jane
Ashby called for you. I told him you didn't want to speak to him, like you asked me to. He sounded ever so apologetic and said he was missing you. I think, perhaps you should talk to him. Do you want me to give him Polly's number if he calls again?
Love Mum
PS: Dad sends his love
##
From: Jane Porter
To: Jeremy and Marjorie Porter
NO! DO NOT give him Polly's phone number.
Mum, he was having sex with another woman in our bed. There is no way on earth that we're going to get back together. And I do not want to speak to him ever again.
Jane
* * * *
Cause Celeb Blog: The magazine that links YOU to the stars!
Pining for Jane
He's a star. He's young, he's handsome, he could have any girl he wants. But Ashby Thornton--inset--looks miserable. He was snapped leaving his local pub alone and looking unhappy. Since splitting up with his girlfriend of 4 years, Jane Porter, he has dated a string of nubile young beauties, but clearly none of them had made him happy. Has Ashby realised that there's more to life than glitter?
* * * *
From: Eric Korsky
To: Keith Durridge
I see Marshall's got the new girl working with him. Bad luck buddy. Looks like dinner is on you!
Eric
##
From: Eric Korsky
To: Indra Somasundara
Indra, please book my usual table at the club for me and Keith D. Sometime next month. Please coordinate with my diary, as always.
Eric
##
From: Keith Durridge
To: Eric Korsky
I still have until the end of the month. It ain't over till the fat lady sings. Or, in this case, the thin lady.
Keith
##
From: Polly
To: Jane Porter
Hi
Andy's coming over this evening and we're getting pizza. Want to join us?
Pol
##
From: Jane Porter
To: Polly
Nah. You and Andy need to have some quality time together. I'm thinking of doing a bit of extra work before I come home tonight. I've still got to finish going through the latest search to get a list of documents that I need to read. I should be home around 9. Do you want me to text when I get to the tube station? ;-)
Jane
##
From: Polly
To: Jane Porter
Stop it, you're making me blush.
No warning necessary. I'm sure we can be respectably eating pizza by 9pm.
Pol
* * * *
Jane pushed the pile of paper away and ran a hand over her eyes. She had been reading the lists of patents for several hours, pausing to print the interesting looking ones off the web. Ruth had gone home an hour or so before. There were only two days left before they had to meet Susan and she had failed to find anything of use. With the deadline looming, she and Marsh had split the remaining patents between them and were both reading as fast as they could.
There was a knock on the office door. Jane swung her chair round and saw Keith leaning with one arm against the doorframe.
"Hi," he said. "Working late, I see."
"Yes." She stretched her arms out in front of her to get rid of the stiffness. "Although I don't think I can read another word."
"I know what you mean. Do you fancy a post work drink?"
She was too tired to do any more work. It would be an hour before she could go home. She really didn't want to walk round the shops now. A quick drink would fill in the time nicely, even if it was with Keith. "Sure. Why not."
"Great. I'll meet you at the lifts in ten?"
When Keith had left, Jane wondered if she'd made a mistake. She would much rather have gone for a drink with Marsh. She looked thoughtfully at the wall between their offices. He might want to join them. She wouldn't be alone with Keith, and she could get to know Marsh a bit better outside of work.
She could no longer pretend that she didn't fancy him. Every time he walked into the room she had to fight hard to concentrate on what she was doing and not stare at him. She did her best not to be alone with him, which was difficult, considering they were working together and she had to have daily update meetings with him.
Trying to ignore her attraction to Marsh hadn't worked. Maybe she should at least find out if he was single. At any rate, it was good to get to know one's work colleagues.
Besides, she wouldn't be alone with hi
m. Keith would be there. She hurried 'round to his office, before she talked herself out of it.
Marsh was reading at his desk, his fingers massaging his temples. He looked up with a tired smile when she knocked. "Find anything?"
"No, sorry. We're going out for a drink before heading home. Do you want to join us?"
He glanced back to the pile of paper on his desk. "I've still got to finish this lot..." As he spoke, he stifled a yawn. "Oh what the hell," he said. "I'll take it home and read it there. Just give me a minute to tidy up."
* * * *
From: Keith Durridge
To: Eric Korsky
Am just heading out for a drink with the lovely Jane. Prepare to pay up Korsky. The bet is as good as won.
* * * *
Jane returned to Marsh's office, bundled up against the cold. He was pulling on his own coat. He'd left his bag on his desk and she pointed it out.
"I'm running home," he said. "I'll come back and get changed before I head off."
"Running? In this weather?" she said as she followed him out. "Won't you freeze?"
"Not if I'm running." He held a door open for her. "You said 'we', I should have asked who else was going for this drink?" As he said it, they walked out into the lobby. "Oh, hello Keith."
"Winfield." Keith's face darkened.
"I thought I'd invite Marsh along..." said Jane. It suddenly occurred to her that Keith and Marsh might not have wanted to spend time in the pub together. She chided herself for being so stupid.
The look of annoyance on Keith's face was swiftly replaced by a more neutral expression. "Excellent. The more the merrier. After all, we're all part of the same team, right?"
The lift arrived, saving anyone from having to answer.
* * * *
The bar was crowded and noisy, so loud, that they had to shout to be heard. Jane was wedged between Keith and Marsh. Once they'd hollered a few banalities about the weather and a few comments about work, the conversation dried up and they stood in a group, sipping their drinks.
After about half an hour of trying, and failing, to have a conversation, Marsh looked from Jane to Keith and back again, as though dealing with some sort of internal conflict. He seemed to come to a decision and sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow," he shouted, leaning in close so she could hear him. She could feel the warmth of his breath.
She lowered her head, to hide the blush she knew was colouring her cheeks.
As Marsh shouldered his way out, Keith moved fractionally closer, his arm pressing against hers. "So, tell me about yourself, Jane. What did you do before you came to London?"
Jane tried to carry on with the shouted conversation, but her heart wasn't in it. All she could think about was that Marsh had left. Clearly he wasn't interested in her.
After a few moments, Keith suggested they move on to a quieter pub.
Jane checked her watch. "Oh no. I have to go. I promised my housemate I'd... do some stuff for her." She moved away before he could object.
He followed her out. "I'll walk you to the tube."
Jane didn't really want to spend any more time with him. The magnitude of her disappointment when Marsh left had surprised and upset her. She had thought she just had a small crush on him, but now she felt there was more to her feelings than that. Surely, she couldn't be falling for someone so soon after her breakup with Ashby? A four-year relationship must take longer than a few months to get over.
"Actually, I'm going the other way. I'll see you tomorrow." She turned and walked back towards the office. After a few yards, she turned to see if he was following and was relieved to see he wasn't.
The city was eerie at that time of night. Aside from the odd person hurrying home and the islands of light and sound around the pubs, the streets were empty. The little alleys and byways between buildings that made London such a joy to explore in the daytime became black holes along which the cold wind blew.
As she passed her office building, Jane paused and looked up at the floor she worked on. There were lights still on. She wondered if Marsh was still in there, getting his things and changing into his running gear. She could go up and speak to him. But then, what would she say? What excuse would she have for returning? Shaking her head, she walked on.
She was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. This wasn't like her. Without thinking about it, she turned into the small alleyway next to the pub that led out into Fleet Street.
Her footsteps echoed in the dark alleyway. She caught a waft of something smoky and acrid. More than just tobacco. Her senses snapped back to the present. Ahead of her a bright spark glowed, expanded to show a shadowed face.
"Hello, darlin'."
She stumbled backward, heard a snigger behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder showed a dark silhouette against the mouth of the alley.
Fear tightened her throat so that the scream hovering there came out little more than a squeak.
"There now," the man with the cigarette said. "No one's about to hear you."
He stepped toward her.
Jane frantically tried to remember what she'd learned in a long-ago self-defense class. She shrank back, into the hands of the man behind her.
"Hey!" The shout was accompanied by running footsteps. The man holding Jane swore. He shoved her to the ground and the other one snatched her handbag. They fled as the footsteps came closer.
Jane huddled on the icy ground, unable to move.
Her saviour came to a stop beside her, panting. She stole a peek and saw a dark, hooded figure, barely visible in the weak light. It bent toward her.
"Are you okay?"
His voice was familiar. Her terrified mind refused to put a label on it.
Jane attempted to sit up. "I think so. Just a bit...shaken." He helped her get to her feet. "They took my bag," she said, still dazed.
"Can you walk? It might be wise to get into the light."
The unspoken words 'in case they come back' sprang to the forefront of her mind. She followed him towards the end of the alley, walking slowly, still too dazed to think properly.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
She looked up and this time she recognised his voice. "Marsh?"
"Jane?"
"Marsh." She went limp with relief. "Thank goodness."
He led her to the main road and along to a bus stop, his arm half-supporting her. Her legs were still too wobbly to support her entirely, so she sank onto a prop seat. Only then did she really see Marsh. He was dressed in a hoodie and running shorts. He must have been on his way home.
He pushed back his hood. "Did they do anything to you?"
Jane shook her head. "They stole my bag."
"That's no big deal. So long as you're not hurt."
"Thank you. I'm glad you came along."
Marsh made a small sound. "I was leaving the office when I saw you go into the alley. I came this way, to make sure you were okay. If I had known it was you, I'd have caught up sooner. What on earth were you doing down a dark alley anyway? It's safer going the long way round."
"I guess I wasn't concentrating." She couldn't very well say she had been thinking about him. She knew she had been very lucky. If Marsh hadn't been leaving the office at exactly the right time... The realization of what could have happened hit her and she started to shake.
Marsh put a hand on her arm. "I think you're in shock. Let's get you somewhere warm." He looked around. "There's nowhere near here...apart from work."
"No. Not work."
"I'll call a taxi. I'll take you home."
Jane thought of the flat, with Polly and Andy and the millions of questions she'd have to face. "No," she said weakly. "Not there either."
Jane thought of her flat that she'd had to give up. She thought of the photographer that had waited outside to catch her when she and Ashby had split up. She wanted to go home. Not to Polly's flat, but home. Somewhere where she could just hide from the world and sleep. Te
ars filled her eyes.
"Tell you what," said Marsh after a moment's silence. "Why don't we go to my place? I'll make you a nice cup of tea and you can phone the police from there."
That wasn't home either, but the idea appealed. Jane wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up at him.
"No funny business," he said, putting his hands up in front of him. "I promise."
She didn't doubt that he meant it. So she nodded.
He pulled a mobile out of his hoodie pocket and made the call.
Chapter 7
Marsh was still in his running shorts. Even bundled up in several layers of clothing, Jane was still feeling cold. He must have been freezing. The taxi pulled up at what looked like an old school in a quiet side street.
Marsh led her into the house and up what seemed like endless stairs. On the third floor, he opened one of the doors leading off the landing and stepped aside to let Jane enter.
As he went round, flicking on lights, Jane stared. Despite the building's Victorian exterior, the flat was very modern. The room had a high ceiling and enormous windows down one side. The décor was warm reds and creamy yellows. Marsh hurried around the room, scooping up items that had been left lying around.
Jane watched him, bemused.
"I wasn't expecting visitors." He dropped everything into a drawer under the coffee table. "Take a seat. I'll put the kettle on."
The flat didn't look like a bachelor pad. There were photos on the walls and floral cushions on the sofa. She did see evidence of Marsh living there, though. A pile of paper and patent books was stacked on the dining table, a jumper was thrown over the back of a chair and a full set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs sat on a shelf.
Jane pulled a bar stool up to the small breakfast bar that separated the kitchen area from the dining table. Against the wall were one haphazardly balanced stack of mountain biking and running magazines and, behind it, a neat pile of Cosmo. Jane stared at it. What kind of a man read Cosmo?
Marsh saw her looking at them. "Oh, they're not mine. They're Stevie's. You should report your mugging to the police. You'll need a crime number for cancelling your credit cards."
She would need to remember what had been in her bag. "Have you got a piece of paper? And a pen?"
