by Olivia Fox
Lily installed herself at her desk a little before 9, with a full in-tray of tasks to work through, and it was gone 11 by the time she even had a chance to check her work emails. Thankfully there was nothing too pressing; mainly just round-robin work junk.
You could say one thing for this job; you never had time to get bored. That was a definite plus for Lily, as these days her mind had a tendency to wander down dangerous paths if left unoccupied. For that same reason, she'd taken to filling her every waking minute with some activity or other; gym, aerobics, French classes, Creative Writing classes. She'd even joined a choir which met every Sunday, and largely consisted of middle-aged women looking to escape their husbands for a couple of hours. Unfortunately these lovely ladies had a habit of wanting to set Lily up with their sons and nephews, but - fingers crossed - Lily thought they might be starting to get the message. All these activities aided in the distraction process, but none so much as her job. And it was different to Bellevue business. There, the work was assigned, and you’d be left to your own devices trying to get everything done in time; which often meant working obscenely late. Here, the staff were crammed close together, giving a shared sense of pandemonium whenever a deadline loomed. And though there was the occasional late-nighter, on the whole, everyone clocked off in good time.
Having disregarded her work emails, Lily risked a quick look at her personal account, knowing her boss would likely be glued to her seat for the foreseeable. A warm hand on Lily’s shoulder made her nearly jump out of her skin. Justin. “No excuses today young lady,” he said. “I've got some work to palm off on you and I need to buy you lunch to ease my guilt.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“Not really,” he said. “I think you'll like it actually. A chance to show Chambers what you're capable of.” He winked, sitting himself down on the edge of her messy desk.
Lily nodded, as much to herself as to him. Here was a decent bloke, being good to her. She needed this. “I guess it's a date then. But let's go Dutch, if it's all the same with you. Where d'ya fancy? Mexicana? Or we could just pick up a few bits and have a picnic? The sun's shining. Who knows how long that'll last.”
“Wicked. My treat though. I'll meet you out front in fifteen.” He looked at his watch, turning to leave.
She grabbed his arm, then immediately regretted the intimacy, letting go the moment he turned. “Wait. Fifteen minutes?” She said. “That's not even 11:30. No way Chambers is letting us out that early. Have you even asked if we can get lunch at the same time?”
“I've got it covered, worry-wart. We've got meetings from 2, and you need to make a start on this thing I'm going to tell you about. I've sorted it. We're outta here.” Justin was smiling, startled by their physical contact, and he seemed hesitant to go.
Lily looked over at the officious Nigella Chambers; the uber-editor and office sergeant major, usually so uptight you'd think she had a rod lodged permanently up her jacksie . However, today, upon catching Lily's eye, the usual 'haven't-you-got-something-to-be-getting-on-with' scowl had been replaced with a knowing wink. Good God, thought Lily, the woman actually knows how to smile. She wondered with a little trepidation, what exactly Justin had told Chambers about their lunch date.
“Did you drug her?” Lily asked.
“Oooh, why didn't I think of that…” Justin sighed. “Could have saved myself a heartfelt grovel. Ah well. Fifteen minutes. Don't stand me up,” he said, finally launching himself towards the door.
“Wouldn't dream of it,” Lily laughed. He really was the easiest company ever. That hard to count for something in the boyfriend stakes, right?
Fifteen minutes later, Lily was leaving the building and watching a harried Justin lug about a weeks worth of shopping in her direction.
"Tell me that's not all lunch. "
He flushed a little. "I don’t know what you like to eat…”
“So you bought up the whole shop?"
See, Lily told herself; sweet, sweet, sweet. Even Emma had been forced to admit he sounded like a good bet after what Lily had been through. Emma who now knew everything. Emma who felt major guilt - unnecessary guilt - for pushing the diary on Lily. Emma who was now determined to keep her advise to herself.
"Anyway," he went on, "You look like you could do with feeding up a bit."
Tactless but true. The stress of the past few months had, at first, done wonders for her waistline, but she was now making a concerted effort not to waste away to nothing. And, having missed breakfast, an early lunch-feast had some appeal.
The Thames tide was low, and Lily led the way down cast iron steps to a small, secluded patch of sand. Justin spread his jacket out as a make shift picnic blanket and began the herculean task of assembling lunch. He arranged bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon, bread sticks, carrot sticks, tomatoes, dips, bananas, grapes and chocolate brownies, on paper plates alongside a mini bottle of Chardonnay, then sat back and laughed at his totally over the top gesture.
"So... Too much, you say... "
Lily shook her head, smiling. "You're going to have to take most of this home.”
He shrugged. "Works for me. Get stuck in though. I'll explain your secret mission while you munch."
"Secret?" The word gave her goosebumps. It was irrational, but even now, in this other walk of life, she found herself wary of secretiveness. She wasn’t the same person anymore. The Lily who trusted easily and lay herself open to hurt was gone. This new incarnation knew better.
"Oh absolutely!” Started Justin. “Well… no. Not really. Just a standard mission. Not even a particularly exciting one. But if you do a good job - which, of course, you will - then Chambers might pass it down to you as a regular assignment."
She breathed a little easier. "And why don’t you want it?"
Justin looked away, his cheeks and neck still rosy. "She's making me Senior Editor when Harris leaves."
Lily, thumped his arm. "Kept that quiet! Well done! That's fantastic. What's with the secrecy?" She knew his answer already. He was humble; embarrassed to be doing well.
"It's not really a secret. I only found out last week."
She laughed. No one else in the office could have kept that under their belt for more than a few hours. News travels fast in journalism. "Were you worried about me being jealous? Because I am. Totally jealous! But I'm delighted for you. God's honest truth. Couldn't have happened to a nicer person."
He smiled, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes, and Lily had the sinking feeling she'd gone too far, been too effusive. And at that moment she knew he wasn't for her. Kind, sweet Justin, with his gorgeous smile; he'd be the perfect boyfriend. Of course he would. Anyone could see it. What was the matter with her? He's not Seb. She shook away the thought and busied herself with a bagel, feeling guiltier with each bite, until finally she put the bagel back down and looked at Justin with gloomy decisiveness.
"I like you," she said. "A lot."
"Oh dear, here it comes."
"I can't be your girlfriend." She felt stupid saying it. It wasn't like he'd made a move. But they both knew this was where they were headed. Better to be up front and minimize the damage.
"Be honest," he whispered. "Was it the bagel? They're a bit dry aren't they. No one likes a man with dry bagels. First rule of dating. How could I have been so stupid?!"
Lily laughed, though her eyes were welling up with tears. He was trying to make this easy for her.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed. "You're perfect. I should fancy you."
"My thoughts exactly, but if you don't, you don't.”
She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "But I should."
"I don't think there are any 'shoulds' with this kind of thing. Either you do or you don't." He wrapped his arm around her and passed her the bottle of Chardonnay to swig from. "Are you sure that's all that's wrong? It's just, I've had a few rejections before - not many, you understand - but no one's ever started crying. Want to talk about it?"
Lily sighed. Rejecting Justin was one th
ing. Crying on his shoulder about her ex boyfriend - ex boyfriends plural - really would be taking advantage of his good nature. Anyway, even if she'd wanted to talk, what could she tell him? It was all too messy. She breathed deep, fixed her eyes on the Thames' gentle sway.
"No, I'm OK. See. No tears." Still wrapped in his hug, she turned her face to look at him.
He frowned and studied her in exaggerated detail before nodding his approval. "So shall I tell you about this assignment or do you want to cuddle some more - maybe you're changing your mind after all?! I've scored haven't I?! Tell me I have!"
It was impossible not to smile. "Tell me about the job."
"Fine," he mumbled. "OK. It's the Five Not to Miss list. I've written up two of them, but I'm running late. It needs finishing by tomorrow to be up on the website pre-publication. Chambers reckons you could give it a try and maybe take over from next month. Want to give it a go?"
A regular assignment. This was exactly what Lily had been waiting for. Plus, she'd be allowed out of the office now and then to visit shows she'd be recommending. And she loved the list. The major London shows always got plenty of media coverage but Artscape was known for championing smaller shows by talented newbies and mid career artists. There was always that possibility of discovering someone really exciting. No question about it; her answer was a wholehearted, unequivocal, "Yes".
Justin kissed her cheek, released her from his hug, and dug about in his pocket for a scrap of paper. "Thought you might say that. So here." He passed her the paper. "No dull meeting for you this afternoon. Check out those three, and see if you can do a couple of paragraphs on each before tomorrow?"
Lily nodded. She unfolded the scrap and tried to decipher Justin's scrawl:
Sphere Gallery, 68 Charlotte Street, Georgiana Jensk, 'Mud and Magic'
154 Space, 154 Cleveland Street , Will McKellen and Nancy Kean, 'Conversations with Dead Painters'
Foley Gallery, 23 Rathbone Place, Seb Harper, 'Seeing You'
Seb. She stared at his name, reading and rereading it, unable to trust her own eyes. "Seb Harper…" It was a mere whisper; her lips forming the words as if trying them for the first time.
"Photographer. Nice guy actually. I interviewed him for a piece a couple of years ago. Not mad keen on his work though. Bit glam for my liking; celeb portraiture, that kind of thing. But he's just had his first Solo show in the States, and our New York office loved it; said he's taken his work in a new direction so... Lily? Are you still with me?”
Barely. Her thoughts were spiralling in on themselves. She wanted to see him. She needed not to see him. He wouldn't be at the gallery anyway. Better that way. She couldn't be trusted around him. Couldn't trust him either for that matter. Couldn't trust anybody that way again. Had to preserve her sanity. Had to see him. Had to touch him. Had to hold him. Oh, for fuck sake, get a grip! "Yep. Sorry. Still here. Just... Wondering which route to take this afternoon. I was listening - honest - kind of."
He rolled his eyes. "Honest, kind of? You're the worst liar I ever met. Here, take my A to Z. Want me to show you the best way? They’re all really close together, so you’re in luck."
Lily took the crumpled A to Z, though she already knew the route, thanked Justin, but assured him she'd work it out. She'd go see Seb's show first, she decided. That way, it wouldn't be hanging over her all afternoon. That way she wouldn't spend the next few hours wondering what to say to him, should she run into him... which she wouldn't. He won't be there. She told herself this to calm her nerves, though she wondered if perhaps she also sought to avoid disappointment. She pulled herself upright and looked into Justin pale blue, earnest eyes. Bollocks. He'd be such a good boyfriend. Perfect. Just not for her.
When their failed lunch-date drew to a close, Lily hugged Justin one last time before they parted ways. Sure, she might be a bad liar where other folk were involved, but she was a dab hand at lying to herself.
31
Lily tried to quiet her agitated mind as she crossed New Oxford Street. She was swinging from one extreme to the other. One moment she couldn't concentrate for the raucous din of conflicting thoughts, the next moment she was numb. Numb was better. Numb meant she'd get through the afternoon without reopening old wounds. If only she could hang onto the numbness she'd be OK.
She shuffled through the crowds in a daze, turning here, crossing there; surely Rathbone Place was somewhere round here? She'd walked these streets a thousand times before, but today they felt as unfamiliar as the streets of New Delhi. Maybe she'd need that A to Z after all.
She turned a corner; one last ditch attempt to find the place before she resorted to looking like a tourist. And there it was. Seb's name called to her from the sparkling gallery window as though the perfect white letters were suspended in mid air.
Seb Harper - Seeing You.
If I see you I'll break. She shot a cautious glance through the window. He wasn't there. Come on then, Lily. Enough of the melodrama. Just get this over with.
The gallery assistant nodded a friendly smile in her direction as she pushed through the glass panelled front door.
"Hi," Lily said. "I'm with Artscape magazine. I'm doing a short review of the exhibition. Do you have any leaflets or a catalogue or -"
"Oh, please, help yourself," he interrupted with puppyish enthusiasm. He gestured towards a pile of catalogues and Lily relaxed a little; perhaps she'd be able to get away with discussing the reproductions. She'd give the originals a cursory glance then get going, quick smart. She put down her list and the A to Z, and reached across the desk for one of the satin coated catalogues, forcing herself to resist the urge to stroke Seb’s name.
"Have I seen you somewhere before?" The terribly-well-spoken, terribly-polite young man asked. "You look so familiar. I just can’t place you…"
Lily shook her head. "I'm new to Artscape." She smiled politely to draw the small-talk to a close, but the assistant was practically effervescing.
"I'm Tarquin," he said, eyes wide and bright. He really would have made the most wonderful little Yorkshire Terrier.
Of course you are. The name suited him down to a T. "Lily."
"Well let me know if I can be of any assistance, Lily. Anything you need to know, or - well - if you'd just like to wait twenty minutes the artist is due to come by so -"
"No." She said it slightly too abruptly and Tarquin visibly flinched. "Sorry. It's just... It's just I've got a couple of other exhibitions to cram in this afternoon."
"I see," he nodded.
You really don't.
Clearly crestfallen, he began shuffling some loose papers on the glass-top desk. "Anything exciting?”
“Not really.” She hated to come across as unfriendly. Poor Tarquin was falling victim to her knife-edge nervousness. “Sorry to be rude,” she said, “but actually, I’d probably best come back another time; I’m running late.” She started toward the door, knowing full well there’d be no other time. She’d be writing up this review based on the catalogue alone; not overly professional but sod it.
“Well, that’s a pity, but I'll be sure to tell Seb you called by. He'll be delighted."
What could she say - don’t tell him? She smiled helplessly at Tarquin and headed for the door, a fire burning through her cheeks. She needed to leave. Now.
She’d not taken more than a dozen rushed strides when she realized she no longer had Justin’s decrepit A to Z. Oh hell, she thought. She wasn’t going back to The Foley Gallery for love nor money, so she’d have to rely on her memory for directions, and she’d have to buy Justin a new A to Z. He needed a new one anyway. Luckily, Charlotte Street was practically on Rathbone Place’s doorstep, and the gallery wasn’t exactly trying to blend into the background. One of Georgiana Jensk’s mud statues, a woman with arms stretched wide, stood outside the gallery, beckoning in passersby. Lily wondered what the gallery did with the statue when it rained. Did they leave it there to deteriorate. Was that part of the art? She’d have to ask them.
Her
pulse began to find it’s regular beat again as she weaved through Jensk’s meticulously crafted sculptures. The work absorbed her, pulled her out of her own head and into a world of blending bodies and twisting mud branches. Lily pulled out her notebook and pen. If she didn’t get down some of her initial impressions now, the magic would be lost in her final write-up. She was made for this job; as she jotted down her notes, she couldn’t help but thrill at the knowledge that people would visit the show based on her recommendation, her words.
Utterly engrossed, she made her way to the far wall, and stopped in front of a triptych; three clay hands hanging side by side on the wall, each unfurling a little more to reveal the seeds held in their palms.
“Lily.”
The voice behind her stilled her thoughts, her breath, her body. She was a statue too. Utterly immobile. Seb.
For a split second she was entirely motionless, unable to turn round and face him.
Then, when eventually she turned, the opposite was true; his eyes pulled at hers like magnets and she could no more have looked away than she could have defied gravity.
"You forgot these," he said. Her peripheral caught a flash of red and white. She took the A to Z and the note from his hands without dropping her gaze. The note... all the information he'd needed to find her.
"I missed you," she said. At least, it sounded like her voice and her lips were moving, but the words had floated into being without any conscious thought on Lily's part. It was the truth though. She missed him. How she missed him. She'd managed to stay away from him for so long; had stayed strong each time doubt raised its head to mock her resolve. And now? Now she wanted nothing more than to launch herself into his kiss and never come up for air. She couldn't trust herself anymore. Her instincts were wonky.
