The email said eight o’clock. I checked it for the fourth time, but then gave up and leant against the wall. Each person that walked past could have been a colleague, but none of them made eye contact for long enough to make conversation. Just when I started getting jittery at the notion that maybe I’d screwed up, the shuffle of footsteps got closer.
‘Emmy! Hello.’
Turning towards the voice, I was met with salt and pepper hair and a gentle smile. My new boss. My shoulders slackened as tension unwound itself from around me. Shame about the early morning nervous sweating though.
‘Brian, hi.’ I shook his hand.
‘It’s good to meet you in person. Welcome.’
‘Finally. Thank you. Sorry, I think I’m a bit early.’
‘Better than being a bit late, right?’ he said. ‘Let’s get you inside and sorted out.’
One bay at a time, lights flickered on throughout the building, which smelled of pine floor cleaner and fresh carpet. I followed nervously, trying to take in all the little details: the empty rubbish bins, neat rows of seats that presented in the waiting room, and my new workstation. It greeted me with a scuffed laminate benchtop, a computer pre-covered in Post-its, a telephone and file stand. Like my job in Sydney, they seemed the essential ingredients of a medical receptionist.
‘How was the flight over?’ Brian hung his coat just inside his office door. ‘Not too awful, I hope?’
‘Ah … long?’ I said with a weak laugh.
‘I haven’t been your way in about five years, I think.’ He squinted. ‘Wedding anniversary trip. We were there thirty years before that for our honeymoon’
I covered my mouth and laughed. ‘I wasn’t even born then.’
‘Don’t say that out loud,’ he teased. ‘Ever again.’
‘Sorry.’
‘You landed yesterday, didn’t you?’
‘I did,’ I said, following when he motioned for me to join him.
‘That’s crazy, I can’t imagine doing that. Thank you.’ Another light switch revealed a staff room.
I expected the sink to be stacked with old coffee cups, a sugar encrusted counter, and the fridge to be filled with green food. Instead, surfaces were wiped down, bins were empty, mugs hung on hooks above the sink, and the refrigerator smelled of bicarb.
‘Can’t very well operate a surgery and be filthy.’
‘Sure.’
‘I had the girls organise a welcome pack for you.’ Brian grabbed a cellophane-wrapped basket from the bench. ‘It’s nothing big, but you’ve made a huge trip, so welcome aboard.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Or is that abroad?’
‘I’ll take either.’ I grinned.
‘Pam should be here in about twenty minutes. She’ll sort you out with passwords and whatnot.’
‘I’ll just—’ I gestured to the kettle ‘—grab a coffee, then?’
‘Absolutely.’
***
Trying to make myself familiar with anything on the first day felt like a bit of a lost cause. I looked at the notes stuck to my computer screen. They made no sense. I scrolled through the numbers stored in the phone. Still, nothing. There were IN trays and OUT trays, drawers had been relieved of their belongings – maybe by the last receptionist, or maybe they were just particularly neat about everything around here. I sat at my desk and adjusted my chair to height. Up and down, spin it around.
It was a good view from here. The dead little garden by the window, a small handful of chairs in a waiting room that stretched around the corner and into a larger pool room, and the front door, which was rattling in frustration.
‘Oomph!’ A tall blonde with a curly bob tripped through the front door.
Having absolutely no idea what else I should do, I stood and waved nervously.
‘Ah, fucking useless door,’ she sputtered in a thick Irish accent before an excited smile popped to the surface. ‘Oh, Emmy, it’s Emmy. I’m Pam as in ham. Hello.’
‘Hello.’ I bit back a nervous laugh. ‘Would you like some help?’
‘Oh, no. I am perfectly good now I’m in the door. Thank you.’ She snipped the lock back in place and grinned at me. ‘It’s so good to have you here.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Just let me caffeinate, and we can get the ball rolling.’ She dropped a bag by her seat and offered me a hug. ‘Have you had breakfast? I’ve got some bread, I can make toast.’
‘Oh … no … no, I’m good. Thank you.’
‘You know Red won’t be in until around lunch time, don’t you?’ Brian’s voice caught her as she strolled back to our desk.
‘Aye. I called him last night, the crazy cat. He said he’d be in by midday, but I told him to just take his time, have a bit of lunch and then come in. His first patient isn’t until one o’clock, but you know what he’s like.’
‘That I do.’
Pam turned to me, eyebrows aloft. ‘You are going to love Red.’
‘I am?’
‘Bloody beautiful soul. Patients love him. By that I mean they’ll wait a week or two to see him before going to some of the others we have here. He’s ridiculously funny. I mean, I like to think of myself as the office comedian, but he—’
‘No, no.’ I held up a hand. ‘Don’t tell me anymore; you’ll ruin the surprise.’
A slow smile spread across her face. ‘Oh, I do like you. Brian, I like her. You picked good.’
‘I do my best,’ his voice rang out.
When my computer login failed to appear in Pam’s inbox, and my swipe card didn’t fall out of the mail bag, I was pushed onto the admin team. Piles of paperwork, filing, and account reconciliations kept me busy in a small office that thrived on gossip and stained teacups. I fiddled, cleaned, and shredded, made drinks and small-talk, and shuffled out of the building at lunchtime, content that things were settling nicely. That buzzy Sunday feeling of not being sure? I’d wiped the floor with it.
* * *
‘I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,’ Heather enthused. ‘Really, I was worried about the whole straight into work thing, but I’m glad. I really am.’
I yawned. ‘I am exhausted though.’
‘Where are you? It sounds loud.’
It was almost riotous. A portafilter banged against the counter every thirty seconds to let thirsty patrons know coffee was on its way. Exhausted staff offered apologetic looks to the woman in front of me over the fact that no, that was absolutely their last lemon jam tart and, no, there weren’t any ‘hiding out the back’.
‘Just in a café, grabbing a sandwich.’ I peered over and around shoulders, trying to pick my first London lunch. ‘I want to eat everything.’
‘Hoki’s?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘Good. That’s the best one.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Speaking of best ones, I’ve booked a table for dinner tonight, figured you’d be excited enough to brave a trip into the city.’
‘Absolutely. Can’t wait.’ I slipped a twenty over the counter, put the change in my pocket, and nestled the sandwich bag under my arm as I slipped out into the blowy street. ‘How’s your day?’
‘About to go try sell a high-rise to some dude with more dollars, sorry, pounds, than I’ll ever see. Speaking of which, I gotta go, see you when you get home.’
I shouldered the front door open and spilled into the practice, Pam nattering away on her headpiece. She waved her hands around, urging me closer with each flick of the wrist. I checked my watch.
‘You’re not late, just come here.’ She pulled me behind the counter. ‘Red! Get out here. I have a present for you.’ Pam winked at me.
‘A present, for me?’ His voice sang through the hall from his office. Patients didn’t even try to stifle their laughter. ‘Well, isn’t this just …’
Shit.
With his wispy flame-red hair and striking blue eyes, William stood in front of me. Over two years of silence had been squeezed shut in the blink of an eye. His face mirrored the same shock that felt like a milli
on electric pins against my skin.
‘… Christmas.’ He glanced over my shoulder at Pam, who pushed me closer.
‘Remember Brian said he was getting me some help? This is Emmy, fresh off the plane from Sydney. Don’t mind her accent though, she does speak English, and you’ll get used to it.’
My heart raced out of the gate before I could so much as even think about yanking on the reins. He’d been out of my life and off my radar for long enough to not matter so much anymore. But in that moment, I was a twenty-year-old girl standing under an Edinburgh street light all over again. I was thrilled and thrown all at once, like he’d reached across the room and physically pulled the air from my lungs. For a split second, his chin dimpled, and bottom lip twitched, before it was replaced by a mask of professionality.
‘Hello.’ He held out a hand and took a steadying breath. ‘I’m William. It’s lovely to meet you.’
‘William.’ I swallowed. Hard. ‘I’m Emmy.’
With that, he’d established how we were about to operate under the same roof together: as strangers.
‘Here’s your next patient.’ Pam pressed a manila folder into his chest.
When I turned to move, it felt like I had every person in the building watching, waiting for a reaction. Two other doctors, Bob and Trevor were looking on silently, waiting for us both to move away from their trays. I gathered my coffee and broken pride and took five minutes to work through my thoughts in the staff room.
We didn’t speak for the rest of the day.
* * *
Heather shouldered me. ‘You’ve been ridiculously quiet over dinner. What gives?’
At a table by the window, the view of the Thames outside soon became a twinkling mass of office lights and street lamps. Suited staff polished glasses behind a mahogany bar, and waiters refilled wine like the bill was never going to arrive. Josh and Craig had lamented their decision to walk through Greenwich and up the hill to the Meridian Line, and I … well, I filled in the gaps.
It wasn’t that I’d been particularly quiet. Alright, maybe I had been. I’d mentioned the good stuff: the great staff, the easy environment, and my new friend, Pam. I showed photos of my welcome hamper and declared I was happy for decent office coffee. By the time I’d left for the afternoon, Pam had crowned me her new best friend. She’d confided in me about her projectile vomiting cat named Victor, her commitment-phobe boyfriend, and her overbearing but emotionally distant mother who thought Pam, at thirty-nine, needed to be put out to pasture if ‘that lad won’t put a ring on it’.
Now, with tummies full and the bill settled, the tipsy warmth of wine propelled us along the riverbank towards Westminster station. The boys pushed on ahead, nattering about all things business and leaving us well alone to chatter about all the things you can only ever say to your best friend.
‘The job’s good, right? That part wasn’t a lie?’ she asked.
‘No, the job’s great. I mean, by lunchtime? I was glad I’d made the move. I felt at home, everyone is so lovely. There’s my boss, Brian. He’s very sweet. Bob is like this forty-something Beatnik obsessed with concerts. Trevor has something like one hundred kids and a wallet slideshow to prove it. The admin team are lovely, very welcoming.’
‘By lunchtime tells me that after lunch—’
‘So, all morning, everyone was like, “Oh, Red’s in later, you’re gonna love Red, Red is amazing.”’
‘Who names their kid Red? What are the other two called? Blue and Yellow?’
‘Right?’ I laughed. ‘Anyway, I just nod and play along because, well, I don’t know any differently. And they’re still on and on, Red this, Red that, Red is apparently the saviour of the universe. Patients love him, old ladies love him.’
‘Rescues kittens from trees and brings women to orgasm with the snap of a finger?’
‘I didn’t hear that one, but I will ask.’ I laughed.
‘And when he finally walked into the office?’
‘You are going to shit yourself.’
‘Not in public, no.’ Heather stood on the spot, hands on hips, looking every bit the member of a serious discussion. ‘Quite sure of that.’
‘Red is William. As in, Edinburgh William. As in, I missed the fireworks for you, and wrote you letters, but you can’t be bothered telling me if you died or just don’t want to speak to me anymore. That William.’
Her mouth popped like I’d slapped her on the face. ‘No.’
‘Yes.’
Heather roared with laughter. ‘Fuck off.’
‘I wish that was the case.’
‘Do you not see the humour in this? Because this is hilarious.’
‘Oh, it’s great.’ Eyes wide, I laughed sarcastically with her. ‘It’s wonderful. Not only is he still unfairly beautiful, he now refuses to speak to me. The same man who once sent handwritten letters, drawings, boxes of tea, and silly little gifts, is now refusing to so much as hold conversation with me.’
‘Are you sure it’s him?’
‘Unless he has an identical twin somewhere, with the same name, then yeah. I think it’s a solid thing that it’s him.’
‘Well, shit.’
‘Does he know?’ Heather pointed further along the path to where Josh and Craig had sat on a park bench, their faces phone screen bright.
‘No.’
‘Is he going to know?’
‘No.’
‘And we’re taking this path because?’
‘Because we haven’t spoken in over two years. He obviously doesn’t want to be my friend, otherwise he’d make some kind of concerted effort to do something other than ignore me, and nothing really happened, did it? We kissed one night and wrote each other a couple of letters. Does that even make us anything?’ I threw my arms about, exasperated. ‘I don’t know. I don’t even know how to handle it, so I can’t ask Craig to yet.’
Heather winced. ‘Maybe? Maybe not? I mean, nothing physical. It was just one kiss.’
‘Exactly. We’re nothing. Not really, right?’
‘In that case, my only suggestion is to go to work each day and kick ass. You’re good at your job, you know what you’re doing. Right now, it’s just a matter of getting into the groove of that office, which I think you’ll be able to do easily enough. I suspect, like you, he’s also a little bit shocked.’
‘I suspect that might be part of it,’ I said. ‘But, also, I’m a little excited to see him again, is that wrong?’
Heather’s brow furrowed, her eyes squinted. ‘I don’t know if it’s bad, but I don’t think it’s great. Maybe give him a few days, you know what boys are like. He’ll come around.’
‘You think?’
She shrugged. ‘Sure. If not, I’ll waltz on in there and sell him a house.’
I snorted. ‘Things are going that well?’
Things weren’t great in the land of real estate. It had been a frustratingly slow week, and she’d failed to close on a few deals that had seemed like a sure bet. Her boss had given her the stink-eye more than once when she’d delivered the news that the Hawes property in Chelsea was a no-go, and that the buyers in Kensington had backed out quicker than a one-night stand running for the bus.
‘I’m sure it’ll pick up shortly. Early summer gets people moving around. It’ll be fine. I’ll sell a few extra properties and it’ll be fine.’
‘Do you still enjoy it?’ I asked.
‘Enjoy it? I love it. It’s what my failed architect’s heart gets off on.’ Heather had always aspired to be an architect but, life being life, she hadn’t quite made it to that point. Until then, I’d forgotten William came from a family of architects.
‘Failed? Please. Why don’t you study again?’ I asked. ‘I’ve seen your drawings. If I know one thing, it’s that you’re designing my house for me.’
Heather scribbled for days at a time, always had. Her old flat had been full of drawings, musings, and re-imaginings of local buildings. Half the trouble she had moving was deciding what works she was going
to take with her. The rest were rolled up in tubes in her parents’ attic.
‘Out in the hills of the English countryside, with sprawling views, sheep, and an afternoon sun room, while the cherubs blob around gleefully in the golden rays of contentment?’
We burst into laughter.
‘Something like that,’ I said. In that moment, my brain was awash with possibilities. ‘Hey, what if we both went back to school? We can study together, online study is a thing, we can get qualified. I can do my nursing thing. That’s the bottom rung of the ladder, isn’t it? Getting the paper.’
‘We could.’ Judging by the scowl on her face, she didn’t look convinced.
‘But you’re not convinced.’ I snapped my fingers.
‘I think the plan for this week should be you holding a conversation with William without spontaneously combusting.’
Chapter 9
As I sat on the edge of the bed, picking through what was left of my clothes, I did my best to feel enthused about the day ahead. My first week had raced ahead of me like a dog on a leash, while I felt like I was jogging along behind it. I walked a different route to work each morning, exploring side streets and cafés until I knew the area well enough to not get lost. On Thursday morning, I was sure I’d found my favourite coffee shop. Their apple turnovers met my ‘Are They Apple-y Enough’ criteria, so I decided I’d keep going back.
‘Hey.’ Craig rolled over and pinched at my hip.
‘Hey, you.’ I reached back and grabbed his hand.
He wriggled across the bed a little. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m good.’ I nodded. ‘Just exhausted.’
‘Friday today.’ He smiled sleepily, his large brown eyes squinted contently. ‘Weekend tomorrow.’
‘Then you start work.’ I leaned down and peppered the top of his head with kisses. ‘Are you excited?’
‘Can I say no?’ His laughter was softened by burying his face in the pillow. ‘I’m enjoying this tourist life.’
‘I’m so jealous of you.’ I zipped up my pants and kissed him again. ‘See you tonight.’
‘I love you,’ he grumbled.
‘Love you too, slacker.’
All week, I’d been itching to get William alone for some sort of discussion. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t like the stilted, stale feeling that hung about the air. We didn’t talk. At all. It was more a series of pointed directives and the bare minimum in work-related chatter. It was if the last few years did not exist in this universe. Any chance of changing that was dashed when I arrived at work. At the end of the hall, his office door was shut, his muted voice the only way to tell he was in.
An Impossible Thing Called Love Page 7
