“Please don’t go to too much trouble; I’m not a fussy eater.”
“Okay, good. Well, I’ll see you Friday, and probably a hundred times before then, too.” Jules’s laughter carried like blossom on the breeze.
In a rush of endorphins, Catherine practically skipped to work, the fragrant morning air thick with hope and pollen. She keyed in the code to let herself into the office and was greeted by the sounds of clattering crockery and muttered curses as Stephanie rattled around in the kitchenette. Catherine paused in Reception to open the blinds and window, bathing the small room with light and air — another small thing Alice had done instinctively, which Catherine had taken for granted.
“Morning, Stephanie,” she called out as she passed. Stephanie squeaked a surprised response.
As the lights of her office flickered on overhead, Catherine pulled off her light jacket and sank down into her desk chair, affording herself a grounding moment to sit still and sip her coffee before her busy day began. A soft rap at her door interrupted, and Jeremy’s face peered into the room. He looked much brighter than he had last week;tired eyes, but at least groomed and with some colour back in his cheeks.
“Oh, I didn’t realise you’d be in today.”
Jeremy pulled his thin lips into a smile. “I have things to do, and I feel a little useless rattling around at home.” With three bouncy strides into the room, he perched on the chair opposite Catherine.
“How’s Francesca doing?” Catherine’s mind flashed back to the hotel room and the unravelled state she’d found her in.
“She’s home, thankfully. I think your visit did some good.” He frowned. “I know she can be… difficult.”
Catherine steadied her voice and shifted in her seat a little. “Look, this might be hard for you to hear, but Francesca’s behaviours are?—”
“Awful, I know.”
“No, I was going to say… consistent with narcissistic personality traits.” Catherine swallowed. “I really think she needs a formal diagnosis and some proper support. Not just for her sake, but?—”
“Yes, yes. I agree.”
Catherine’s eyebrows lifted. “You do?”
“Honestly, I’ve known for longer than I care to admit. As you say, all the traits tally.” Jeremy stared intently at his clenched hands. “This isn’t the first time she’s taken things badly after a… break-up.”
“Right.” Catherine swallowed again.
Jeremy drew a sharp breath. “But this time I was brave and broached the subject with her.”
“You did?”
“It’s early days, but she’s receptive to the idea of therapy. And I suppose if it is NPD they might prescribe mood-stabilisers. But she’s open to it. That’s something.”
“That’s great, Jeremy.” Catherine refrained from adding the words perched on the end of her tongue…and long overdue.
“Quite. Yes.” He slowly nodded. “I’d like to do something to thank you… you know, for coming to our aid in a time of need and helping things along like you have.”
Catherine held up her hands. “There’s no need.”
“Lunch! Can I take you to lunch this week? Somewhere nice.”
“Really, it’s fine and besides my diary is?—”
“Please, Catherine, for me. It’s important.” He hit her with that pleading look she couldn’t resist.
“Okay, alright. Just not today. I’m off to the University Hospital to see a patient — the final hangover from all the Alice business.”
Jeremy winced.
“And not Friday,” she added quickly. “I can’t do Friday.”
Jeremy bobbed his head. “Got it. Not Friday.”
Friday was reserved for Jules and mentally preparing for their date. Catherine gripped her fingers around her reusable cup because a rogue wave of panic surged again at the thought.
