‘Why don’tyouaskhim?’ Nadine suggests, popping down the tray of coffee.
‘I’m old-fashioned.’
‘Oh, bugger,’ sighs Graham, ‘wesoneed some romance in this office to spice things up! How’s your love life, Jan?’
‘Non-existent.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, what’s wrong with the pair of you?’
‘I’m going on a date tonight,’ I reveal.
‘I knew something was up! Spill.’
Lucas had kept his word and called Ralph after our supper, promising he’d make me sound irresistible. ‘It’s nothing major, Graham, just drinks round the corner.’
Ward enters the room. ‘Our Jan’s going on a hot date tonight,’ he tells him. Why does Graham blurt out whatever he’s thinking? Does he have no filter?
Ward doesn’t react. ‘Let’s crack on.’
Graham nudges me. ‘Come on, who’s the lucky man?’
‘Just this guy,’ I whisper, finally catching Ward’s eye before looking away.
‘Mr Ivy, Oxford,’ Ward says, towards the end of the meeting, ‘has instructed Spencer to work with us.’
A famous architect designed Mr Ivy’s ultra-modern house, which has been on the market for three months now, with no bites. ‘This place should be picked up and plonked in LA,’ says Ward, and I know exactly what he means. The house has high security because his wife is a renowned actress, but the couple are now going through a pretty ugly and public divorce. ‘Maybe another agent will take the pressure off because I’ve pretty much exhausted my contacts.’ Ward looks exhausted himself, as he says, ‘January, can you fix an appointment with Spencer for this afternoon?’
‘Will do.’ I keep my head down, writing overly long notes on my square Sherwoods pad.
‘Uley Lodge. January?’
‘Yes, um… fine.’ The stupid kiss was almost a month ago, Jan, why can’t you forget about it? I’m sure Ward has.
‘What’s up with you?’ Graham asks after the meeting. ‘You need to seriously perk up for your date, missy. Dead people are more warmed up than you.’
After lunch Nadine staggers in with a heavy box of brochures. I hop up to help her.
‘Thanks, darling. Choccy bic?’ she asks as I grab a pair of scissors and cut through the parcel tape.
‘I’m fine.’
Graham swings round in his chair. ‘Are you coming down with something, J?’
‘That’s your department, G.’
‘At last, she smiles.’ He helps me open the box. ‘You would tell me if something was wrong, though, wouldn’t you? I’m a good listener.’
‘Thanks.’ Touched, I kiss his cheek. ‘Honestly I’m fine.’
‘Scout’s honour fine?’
‘Scout’s honour fine.’
The buzzer rings. I glance at my watch. Spencer isn’t due for another half hour.
‘Come in,’ Nadine says, before calling out, ‘Guys! It’s Marina!’
I freeze.
