Gregory.
The lump that’s been lingering in my throat is back with a vengeance and my eyes are stinging. I catch an escaping sob with the back of my hand to my mouth then swallow the lump and stand up straight, accepting reality.
‘Scarlett.’
Neil’s voice is like a punch to my gut, crippling. I move my free hand to the back of a beige velour chair for strength.
‘Neil. When can I fly?’
‘As soon as possible is best for Abdulla. How long do you need?’
‘Can you get me on a flight tonight?’ My voice is breaking. ‘I’d like to get started straight away.’
‘Tonight might be a push. Take your time, do whatever you need to do and I’ll ask Aisling to book you a flight for tomorrow.’
‘Great. Perfect. Let me know the details.’
‘Thank you, Scarlett, Abdulla will be pleased about this.’
‘No problem, glad I can help.’
Once the call is disconnected, I fall into the beige seat, stunned.What just happened?
Gregory didn’t do this. Why would he? After last night, after the CPS decision. We’re far from perfect but I assumed we could work on that now that things are settled. Maybe that’s it. Maybe now there are no excuses and he’s afraid to let me in. I snort at just how pathetic that thought is…He just doesn’t love you.
In the ladies’, I splash water over my face and dab away the mascara from under my eyes. My grey skin is almost translucent in the mirror.
Jovial conversation continues when I slip back into the lounge. I scan the room quickly; I want to see his reaction before he has a chance to think and put up the wall of whichever personality he feels like presenting today.
One glance. That’s all it takes.
He turns from the window, his skin the colour of the pending rain clouds outside. His face and neck are taut and every sinew in his neck is displayed when he swallows. The cup in his hand rocks against its matching saucer. We hold our stare until Gregory looks down to his saucer and back to me.Ashamed? Embarrassed?He ought to be. Too fucking pathetic to tell me straight.
‘Everything okay?’ Amanda asks from the leather chair closest to me where she’s drinking tea and flicking her eyes between Gregory and me.
‘Absolutely.’ I move to the table between the sofas and chairs to collect a cup of coffee. ‘Just Neil, he wanted my answer about the Dubai secondment.’
‘So is he mad that you’re not going?’ She casts her eyes toGregory but his back is now turned to the room as he looks out at Lara’s acres of land, his shoulders around his ears.
I sip my coffee and try to calm my nerves and keep my voice even. ‘Actually, I am going. He didn’t leave me much choice.’
I watch Gregory’s shoulders rise and fall with his breath.Even now,I don’t want people to know his underhand tricks;I don’t want people to think badly of him.I’m such an idiot.
‘Shit! When do you leave?’
‘Tomorrow.’
I hug everyone when lunch is finished but I keep my arms locked around Sandy and Amanda because as much as I can talk to them on the phone, absent an emergency, I won’t be holding them for six months. I leave tomorrow, that much is certain because Gregory made certain I couldn’t get out of it. Going to Neil was conniving but I have to hand it to him, it was the best way to make sure he got what he wanted. Rid of me. He got the CPS decision, made sure I could move on like he’d intended the moment he got the police involved that night. Then he pushed me away.
The question I don’t have an answer to and the question I ponder through our stubborn silence all the way back to the Shard, is why bother with last night? Last night, I believed, more than ever, I even thought Isaw, rather than just hoped, that he loves me.
I get that he has to let me in. We have hurdles to surmount. But I thought we’d have a clear run now, stand together, have the chance to fall in love, know everything about each other without darkness or obligation looming. What’s clear to me now is his shadows run deeper than one night.
The silence of the car serves to heighten the tension but I won’t ask him here, now. I want to see his face when I ask him,why?
He holds open the door to the apartment. I don’t look at him but I feel him scrutinising every move I make. He watches me from the centre of the open lounge as I pour a glass of water from the fridge filter and sip. The car ride home gave me time to think about what I wanted to say but now, face to face with the man I love, I’m lost for words.
Katrina Martin was right in the interview room three weeks ago. A perfect stranger could see it when I couldn’t. This is unrequited love.
