‘Yes and she liked it. Really liked it. I couldn’t believe it, she never likes my ideas.’
I washed my hands very thoroughly with soap, not looking at her. ‘That’s because it wasn’t your idea.’
‘Technically, yes.’ Emily was now trying to catch my eye in the mirror. ‘But at that point I could hardly say it was yours. Have you any idea what it’s like working for her? You’re lucky. Max lets you get away with anything.’
If she was expecting me to sympathise as usual, she’d misjudged things. This time I was seriously pissed off. I narrowed my eyes and turned to face her.
‘Fine, Emily,’ I said, firmly making eye contact for the first time. ‘But why didn’t you tell me? I’m hardly going to march over to Fiona and say, “Actually it was my idea”.’ Did she really think so little of me? ‘Christ, it’s not as if you haven’t had ample opportunity. We do live together. From the sound of things you’ve been negotiating with Miranda for a few days.’
With that said, I flounced out of the loo, stomping back to my desk. After all the help I’d given her that morning with Peter’s email! Well, she could bloody well sort her own mad emails out from now on.
Unfortunately that’s just what she did.
* * *
I was so fed up with Emily that I phoned Kate for a moan, but she wasn’t particularly sympathetic, in fact she was bloody miserable which reminded me of Mum’s conversation the previous evening.
‘What are you doing tonight?’ I asked.
‘Meeting up with Caroline for a drink, except she’s just phoned. Typical, I’m already on the train to London and she’s held up. I’m going to have hours to kill. What are you doing?’
‘I’ve got an idea. Give me five minutes and I’ll call you back.’ I knew just the thing. Isabelle on the floor above was always offering me complimentary visits to one of her client’s places.
* * *
‘You have such a brilliant job,’ Kate said letting out a long, heartfelt sigh as she tucked her towel tighter around her chest, and wiping her hair off her face.
‘Mmm.’ It was all I could do to answer her. Lying full-length in the delicious heat, the warmth was penetrating my muscles unfurling the knots of tension in them. I hadn’t realised how much Emily had wound me up.
‘I could get used to this.’ Kate’s voice sounded wistful.
That sounded like a good cue to me. I sat up. Too quickly! I felt light-headed for a second in the hot air.
‘You missing Greg?’ I asked sympathetically.
‘What?’ asked Kate, looking confused for a moment.
‘Gorgeous Greg, the surf-stud?’ I teased. ‘He of the six-pack.’
‘Six? You mean eight. Everything’s more macho in Australia, Sheila.’
Clearly that wasn’t the problem, so what was it? Was Mum imagining things? There was only one other thing I thought it might be.
‘Poor old Bill. I bet he’s only got a six-pack,’ I said.
‘Where did that come from?’ she asked rather sharply, looking at me. ‘What about Bill?’
Bingo. As I suspected.
‘It’s not every day you get picked to play rugby for England. He’s been in every newspaper this week,’ I answered. ‘I justwondered if you might have had a change of heart.’ I used my towel to dab at the water dripping down my neck.
‘As if that impresses me,’ she snapped, looking up for a second and sticking her nose in the air.
I looked at her and opened my mouth in astonishment. ‘Gosh, it impresses the hell out of me. He’s done so well to be selected and how great would it be to say you’re going out with an England rugby player?’
‘There was never any chance of that,’ she said more gently, shaking her head, clumps of hair plastering her damp cheeks. A small part of me relished her looking dishevelled.
She sighed. ‘Much as Bill hoped, nothing was ever going to happen.’
