“You can, Dirk. Nothing has changed.” But he shakes his head. His eyes are closed.
“Dirk. I couldn’t let Donna down, after all she’s ...
“But why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Mrs West is a business. We’re meant to be invisible. I would have thought you’d understand about confidentiality.”
“But this is fundamental, Lucy. A matter of trust.”
“There wasn’t time.” I snap.
“How long does it take to send a text message? You could have done it while you were in my apartment.”
“But what if you’d said ‘no’? It would have been a conflict of interest for me. Anyway, what’s so wrong with me cleaning up after you?”
“You’ve been in my space, without telling me. It’s about trust.”
“Really, Dirk?” I stand, hands on my hips. “But of course. How could I expect you to understand? I simply needed to work. My work is casual. I have to take what’s on offer. Am I not allowed to make a living? Can you not even understand that some people don’t have oodles of cash on hand? I suppose as a retired doctor...”
I bite on my words as he stands. My pulse pounds. But really. Bart’s betrayal. Dirk’s principles. And now I’m going to really blow it. I just know it. I am far too furious to keep it all in any longer.
“And why exactly is it that you even need a Mrs West, Dr Dirk O’Connell, a smart man like you? Why don’t you learn to bake your own apple pies? It’s not that hard. I put that first one together in five minutes flat, a personal record, by the way, not that such feats are considered interesting enough to mention in normal conversation. And vacuuming is not rocket science.”
When he refuses to comment, I continue.
“Dirk, I need this work. You know I want to buy this place. You know my Ex stole my other future and gave it to someone else, someone younger, more beautiful and less difficult, at least for now. When she starts speaking up, no doubt he’ll replace her.” I stop to catch my breath.
This is not about Bart. Dirk is completely different. He’s not vain. Maddeningly, he’s not even angry. He’s dismayed. Hurt. I want to go to him, to place my palms on his arms and comfort him, offer him a kiss. Not an apology, though, because I’ve done nothing wrong. He’s the one who’s being unreasonable.
We stand and stare at one another. My heartbeat settles. His stare softens. I wait for his own apology, but he just stares at me, as if I’ve let him down. Well, I haven’t. In fact I’ve been doing a great job except for that day when I put the clean towels back in there slightly late.
“It’s a job, Dirk. You might not understand – a well-paid doctor like you.”
“How dare you tell me I don’t understand about money.”
“Well, it’s true. There’s nothing personal about cleaning ... It’s just a job.”
“You’ve touched all of my things. My correspondence. My underwear. This is a fundamental matter of trust, Lucy.”
“So you want me to apologize? Is that it?”
“Walt and Jill and Dee told me I couldn’t trust you, but I ignored them. I was falling in love with you, so help me, Lucy Beston.”
“I don’t see how this changes things.”
“I expect transparency in a relationship.”
He hasn’t raised his voice, but he is angry. I’ve never seen him lose his temper. With his grandchildren Dirk is infinitely patient, but now he presses his point.
“Did you rent your apartment before or after you’d moved my stuff into my place?” His voice is precise, chilling. He is condemning me, not interested in my defence. “And in Jill’s shop? Was that a set up? Did you stalk me? Did you chase me all along? Did you bump into me on purpose, to make me spill that coffee on the dress? If so, you’re a piece of work, Lucy Beston.”
“No, Dirk. It wasn’t like that.”
His phone rings, and he takes it.
“Jamison?” He holds up his hand to me. “I have to take this, Lucy.”
He turns and lets himself out of my apartment, shoulders squared. If this was a fight, I don’t know who won.
