‘Ahh, Madame Editrix, there you are,’ he smiles kindly as I leap to my feet and rush to shake his hand.
Oh holy fuck. What in the name of arse is Sir Gavin doing with Seth? And here of all places, when I so badly needed to be alone with Jake?, What the hell is going on between this pair that I don’t know about?
‘Hello there,’ I try to say calmly, composing myself. ‘Can’t believe you’re both meeting outside of work – and on a Sunday too! Everything okay?’
My intention is for that to sound innocuous and breezy but it comes out so strangulated, I’m practically singing soprano.
‘Oh, Seth and I just had one or two bits and pieces to discuss,’ he says lightly. ‘Nothing whatsoever for you to worry about, Madame Editrix. You two seem to be, well, otherwise occupied as it is.’
Now, whenever anyone tells me not to worry, my shoulders will, on cue, instantly seize up and my heart will start palpitating. But when it’s the chairman of the board saying that to me, then believe me, I’m this close to needing emergency services.
‘We’re just having a quiet dinner à deux, as it happens,’ Seth smoothly informs me, just a hint of a gloat in his snivelly voice.
‘Indeed,’ says Sir Gavin, patting his portly, overhanging stomach. ‘And in fact if we don’t order soon by the way Seth, I’m in danger of passing out with hunger.’
Right, that’s it, my mind shoots up a gear to overdrive now. They’re having a quiet dinner? Just the two of them? Unheard of! So who asked who, is what I immediately want to know. I stand there with a frozen smile practically hard-wired onto my mouth, thinking all the while, Jaysus help Seth if he even thinks about writing this off as a company expense and if I find out, that’s all I have to say.
‘Emm … would you like to join us?’ I ask desperately.
‘Wouldn’t dream of intruding on your romantic evening. No you enjoy your meal and we’ll just have our little chat privately.’
‘Well, enjoy,’ I manage to say weakly, hoping it came out politely, but afraid my subtext is all too apparent. I hope you enjoy it, Sir Gavin, but may Seth Coleman choke on an asparagus tip and end up in an overcrowded emergency room surrounded by screeching kids with saucepans stuck on their heads. Serves him right for doing whatever he’s doing behind my back. But mark my words, I’ll find out precisely what’s going on, even if it bloody kills me in the process.
‘Tut, tut, Eloise. Now where are your manners?’ says Sleazebag Seth, noticing Jake now and suddenly in no rush whatsoever to leave. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us to you new friend?’
Jesus, I think, suddenly irrationally furious. How does he do that? Manage to make the word friend sound like ‘gigolo’?
I mumble my way through the introductions, hot flushing like a menopausal matron.
‘Heard a lot about you,’ sniffs Seth, taking Jake in from head to toe, while Sir Gavin just shakes his hand then stands patiently by, saying nothing, just glancing up at a board with all the day’s specials written on it every now and then.
‘Likewise,’ Jake smiles politely back.
‘Right well, have a lovely meal,’ I say, having to clear my throat a couple of times before it comes out right.
‘Yes, we’ll leave you to it.’
Then I think, feck it. Might as well throw this in.
‘Emm … Sir Gavin, are you sure you don’t need me to be aware of, well, whatever it is that you are discussing?’
‘No need at all. Nothing for you to fret about, you’ve quite enough going on as it is. That’s all too apparent. Well, nice to meet you Jake.’
‘You too, Sir Gavin,’ Jake smiles easily, utterly unfazed by all this, while I just stand there clutching and unclutching sweaty palms.
They’re almost gone, it’s almost over when Seth pauses for a split second before turning back to our table, à la Peter Falk in Columbo.
‘Just one more thing, Jake, wasn’t it?’ the slimy git says as he whips out one of his monogrammed hankies and dabs his long, bony nose in a gesture a dowager countess circa 1910 would baulk at using. ‘I’m assuming I’ll see you next weekend? At the directors’ corporate function?’
Jake doesn’t answer, just shoots me an inquiring look, so I try to flummox my way out of it.
‘You know, I don’t actually think that’s going to be possible.’ I half stammer. ‘Jake is teaching, you see and his hours are a bit …’
‘Nonsense, of course you’ll have to be there,’ says Seth, clearly sensing my discomfort and revelling in it. ‘Won’t he, Sir Gavin?’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Sir Gavin chimes in. ‘You must come Jake,’ he nods politely, ‘as a guest of Madam Editrix, you’d be more than welcome. I absolutely insist. Everyone will be delighted to meet you.’
‘Wonderful!’ I say in a strangulated high-pitched voice I hardly recognise as my own.
‘So that’s settled then,’ is Seth’s last, triumphant word. ‘See you next weekend Jake. And by the way, I’m very much looking forward to playing a round or two of golf with you.’
Jake, I notice, says nothing to this, just stares back at him, arms folded, giving absolutely nothing away.
And finally, they’re gone to the upstairs section of the restaurant, mercifully leaving us alone.
Oh bugger this to hell. It’s as good as decreed now. If Sir Gavin himself has invited Jake, then short of the Post going into receivership before next weekend, that’s it. He’s got to come with me and that’s final.
As soon as they’re well out of sight and safely upstairs, Jake’s sprung to his feet, gripping my arms as he gently eases me back into my chair. Then he sits me back down, as ever, making me feel tiny beside the sheer hulking size of him.
‘You okay?’ he asks me, looking straight into my eyes, all concerned. ‘Jeez, you were tense enough before they came in, but look at the state of you now …’
‘I’m so far from okay, I can’t tell you.’
You just don’t know why, that’s all …
‘Sir Gavin seems alright,’ he says thoughtfully, ‘but if you ever want me to sort out that Seth git for you, believe me, it would be my absolute pleasure. I feel very protective over you, and God help anyone who tries to have a go at you when I’m around, that’s all I can say.’
‘One day I’d like to have that man vaporised, but for the moment …’
‘Now you’re beginning to sound a bit more like yourself,’ he smiles, the old twinkle coming back into his eyes. ‘That’s a lot more like the strange and troubled woman I know. So just listen carefully to what I’m telling you. Let. It. Go.’
I give him a wobbly smile, all while thinking, how do I get our conversation back on track? He sits back down and now we’re back to pin-drop silence, which, for once, Jake misreads.
‘Eloise,’ he says softly, ‘don’t get stressed about why Sir Gavin is meeting with git-face Seth. It’s not worth it. Whatever’s going on, I’m sure it’s nothing for you to worry about.’
No, nothing compared to what I’m about to land on you.
‘Besides, if it had been anything concerning you, don’t you think they’d have told you?’
I nod, though for the minute, I’m not even thinking about Seth and Gavin. Yeah, sure something’s up between the two of them alright, I can practically smell it. Don’t know what, but it’ll only a matter of time before it all filters back to me. Sooner or later everything does. And I’ll deal with it then, and only then.
I take a sip of the wine that’s finally arrived and look over to him, worry now etched all over his fair, freckled face. Though he’s not half as fecking worried as I am.
‘Jake, just to get back to …’
‘Please,’ he says, leaning against the window now and looking intently back at me, ‘I know what you’re thinking and I don’t want you to get all stressed about it. You don’t have to. Because I won’t go unless you want me to. I mean come on, me? At some corporate weekend do? Playing golf with gits like that Coleman wanker? Are you kidding me?
I’d end up punching him in his smug self-satisfied gob if he as much as looked crossways at you.’
‘It’s not that, Jake,’ I shift around uncomfortably in my chair.
‘Wish you could tell him the only use we have for golf clubs where I come from …’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘What? Tell me.’
Just then, the bill arrives, which Jake very generously insists on paying, then starts getting ready to leave.
‘You have to go already?’ I say, stunned. He can’t go, not now, not yet.
‘Yeah, sorry I have to rush, but remember I told you I was teaching an English class tonight? In fact I gotta run or I’m going to be late. So what was it you wanted to say to me anyway, before we were so rudely interrupted?’
Oh God, not now, not when he’s running out the door.
Shit, shit, shit.
‘It was … emm … nothing that can’t wait.’
‘You’re stressed out of your mind about this whole corporate weekend, aren’t you? Isn’t that why you’ve been so jumpy all night?’
‘Well, partly …’
‘What, is it like some kind of partners’ thing, or something?’
‘It is, actually …’ But that’s the least of my worries.
‘I see,’ he says, thoughtfully. Then after another pause and a good long look at me he adds, ‘and for what it’s worth, I think I do understand what you were trying to tell me. Or rather, what you weren’t.’
More bloody silence, and for once I can’t think of a single thing to prise out of my mouth that might fill it.
Next thing, he’s on his feet, pulling his jacket on.
‘Jake? You’ve got to leave right this minute?’
‘Yeah, or I’ll be late.’
‘Oh,’ I say, deflated. ‘So maybe I’ll talk to you afterwards?’
‘Listen, Eloise,’ he smiles down at me, ‘if you need company at the corporate piss up, count me in. I’ll be there for you and I won’t let you down. Sure, I’d do anything for you, you know that, don’t you?’
I give a weak, automatic smile, not wanting him to go, not yet.
‘But as for the partners side of it …’ He went on, not quite able to look me in the eye now. ‘Eloise, you’ve been so good to me and I’ll never forget you for that. You were a true pal when I needed one most. But …’
‘Yeah?’ Not sure where that ‘but’ could be headed.
‘Well then maybe this might put your mind at rest a bit. I was going to tell you, but …’
But what, I think?
‘That girl I met you with in the Green the other day?’
‘Yes, I remember. Monique, wasn’t it?’
Hard to forget the Girl from Ipanema, tall and tanned and young and lovely and the adoring way she batted her two-inch long Bambi eyelashes in Jake’s direction.
‘As a matter of fact …’
And I swear with a journalist’s knife-edge instinct, that I already know what’s coming next.
‘She’s been asking me out for a while, so we’re just going out for drinks to celebrate my exams being over at the end of the week. Just as pals, you know.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘You and I have always been straight with each other, so I just thought I’d let you know.’
Me? Straight with you? You don’t know the half of it, sunshine, I think, barely able to meet his open, trusting, blue eyes. So exactly like Lily’s that it would melt a heart of stone.
‘Oh absolutely,’ I manage to smile brightly, ‘that’s great news.’
‘Yeah, she’s a lovely girl, Monique. She’s twenty-two.’
‘Twenty-two?’
‘Yup. Teaches Bikram yoga and as you probably gathered the other day, needs English lessons VERY badly.’
‘Yoga?’ I repeat stupidly.
‘So just in case you were worried about me taking the partners thing seriously …’
‘Oh no, no, not at all …’
‘But if you want me to go with you as your buddy, you can count on me. You know that.’
‘No worries. Have a lovely night and I’ll see you during the week?’
‘Sure, I’ll call you once my exams are out of the way.’
‘Best of luck!’ I call after him brightly, and two seconds later, he’s gone.
I knock back the dregs of my wine and speed dial Helen the minute he’s gone, hissing everything that’s just happened down the phone to her.
‘You mean you didn’t get to tell him?’
‘Couldn’t. I tried my best, I really did, then Sir Gavin and bloody Seth Coleman interrupted us.’
‘I don’t believe it!’
‘I know, I nearly choked.’
‘So tell him before you go away for the weekend then.’
‘Can’t.’ I sigh helplessly. ‘He’s got five full days of exams ahead. How can I land this on him on this of all weeks? If he failed, it would be entirely my fault. And he’s worked so hard.’
‘The weekend then. You’ll have to tell him then. You can’t put it off any longer. You’ve waited this long, you can wait another six days, can’t you? And until then, just stop all your worrying and put it out of your head. Nothing else you can do. In fact, the weekend is probably an even better time, because it’s down the country and you’ll be able to snatch a bit of time alone together, won’t you?’
I’m only half-listening to her though.
‘And another thing, he’s dating that slapper we saw him with in the Green yesterday.’
‘Oh shit, you’re kidding me.’
‘When do I ever?’
‘You know what?’ she says to the soundtrack of Lily bashing out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on the piano in the background. ‘I’m quite psychic. Saw this coming a mile off.’
‘Saw what exactly coming?’
‘Well, you’ve gone and done all the heavy lifting on him, haven’t you?’
‘Explain?’
‘You’ve gone and found this rough diamond and sanded him down and moulded a perfect gentleman out of clay: you’ve groomed him and prepped him and all for what? So some other girl can just step in and have all the benefit? I don’t know what he was like when you first met him, but to look at him now, you’d think, that guy can have anyone he wants. He’s perfect. Handsome, lovely, kind, polite, intelligent. And you’re the one who made it all happen. I often think the same about me and Darren, you know. I’ve spent years honing and sanding down his rough edges and if we ever break up, what’ll happen? The next girl that comes along will get all the benefit of all my long years of patiently grafting and nagging and he’ll be married to her within a year. Seen it happen a thousand times.’
‘Helen love, just so you know, men aren’t always the answer.’
‘Then why do we always end up talking about them?’
‘And another thing; don’t forget that Sir Gavin’s wife insists on being addressed as Lady Hume.’
‘Ah get off the stage, please tell me you’re having a laugh.’
‘When do you ever see me joking?’
‘You’re seriously telling me that I have to call her your ladyship?’
‘Yup. Won’t answer to anything else these days. Unless she happens to have a few drinks in her, in which case you may be invited to call her by her Christian name.’
‘Where does she think she’s living anyway? Versailles? Late eighteenth century?’
‘Jake, just do as I ask, please.’
‘Out of curiosity, what’s her real name anyway?’
‘You ready for this? Shania.’
Okay now I actually have to hold the phone away from my ear, he’s guffawing that hard.
‘Sorry,’ he all but snorts, ‘just getting a mental picture of the reaction Lady Shania Hume the Fourth, or whatever she calls herself, would get if she started giving herself airs and graces round where I come from.’
‘Well, in that case, you’ll love this. She’s inner-city born and bred and if you’re to believe the
rumour mill, worked in Burdock’s chipper there for years. Became a model, worked her way up, met Sir Gavin when he was just a humble hack, and never looked back. During the Celtic Tiger years, her proudest boast was that the highlights in her hair matched her car.’
‘Piss off.’
‘Jake! Language like that in front of the T. Rexes and I will personally murder you!’
‘I know, I know. Will you chill out, for feck’s sake?’
‘Course now she’s all in with the Kildare horsey set and to see her swanning around the place, you’d nearly swear she was reared in a stately home and related to the Middletons. She’s even changed her accent too and now she sounds posher than one of the Mitford sisters, by way of the Queen.’
I can almost hear the sound of his eyes rolling.
‘Well if she worked in a chipper, she and I’ll have lots in common then. We can spend a happy afternoon sharing stories about queuing up for butter vouchers. Or better yet, I can tell her that she looks a bit familiar, then ask her does the phrase “Can I have two curry chips and a batter burger with a tin of Fanta to go?” mean anything to her.’
‘Very droll. Oh and don’t forget Ruth O’Connell, you remember Ruth? Pinched face, permanently disappointed look about her?’
‘The Northern editor, yeah I remember her. Looks at men like she’s either going to kiss them or kneecap them.’
I half smile. But then, Jake has this innate knack of immediately paring people right down to their basic, elemental truth.
‘Anyway, the woman is capable of ferreting a juicy story out of a large lump of lard. So just be on your guard round her, that’s all I’m saying.’
Course that’s the least of my worries, but I say no more. And then my stomach does a flip worthy of the Cirque du Soleil even just thinking about how much else could go wrong. It’s like a whole kaleidoscope of worries about this whole shagging weekend is now unfolding, almost sickening me.
Now you know me, I’ve planned out as much as it’s possible to without actually handing out a scheduled timetable to Jake. The Saturday is an afternoon get-together, followed by a posh nosh-up that night with speeches, the whole works. But then the Sunday morning is ‘free time’. Or decoded, four or five hours for the lads to arse around a golf course and talk shop. So, Sunday morning it is, then.
A Very Accidental Love Story Page 22
