‘So as you can see, I have connections in high places, which makes my offer extremely tempting for you. Now I’m aware you don’t have the best job in the world – cold-calling isn’t exactly a high-earning position, but I promise there will be no recriminations about this after we are living together.’
I have to interrupt. ‘Living together?’ I splutter. ‘Aren’t you offering marriage?’ Oh God, that came out wrong. I don’t want to marry Rob, but that’s not the point, how insulting is this? However gross Mr Collins was, at least he was suggesting making Charlotte Lucas a respectable woman. I’m not even worthy of playing the part of Charlotte Lucas, that’s so rubbish.
‘I am suggesting you move in with me,’ Rob replies in a tone that makes this sound as though it’s the biggest prize in the world. He hoists himself to his feet and clumsily comes to sit next to me, grabbing my hand in his. ‘Of course, if you play your cards right and things work out, perhaps we could consider marriage at a later date, if that’s what you want. You’re only human.’ Oh yuech, his oily smile makes me feel sick.
This guy is the limit. It’s totally necessary to stop him right now. ‘Wait a minute,’ I cry, leaping to my feet in order to create some distance between us. ‘I haven’t said anything yet. It’s kind of you to think of me, I’m sure…’ (see, finally no more thank you very much, please, thank you, sir) ‘but I wish you wouldn’t. It’s a very nice offer but one I really can’t accept.’
‘Come, come, Miss Johnson, Sophie!’ Rob smiles ingratiatingly. ‘I know most of you girls think it’s fun to play hard to get. So I shan’t be downcast by your refusal. Come out for dinner with me tomorrow and you can give me your real answer then. I know all you women like to be wined and dined a little, before anything else.’
‘Rob, you’re making a big mistake. I’m not the sort of girl who plays hard to get, it’s not even in my vocabulary, for goodness sake. With me, what you see is what you get.’
‘You are pretty charming!’ agrees Rob, advancing ominously towards me.
‘No!’ I exclaim hastily, dodging his now sweaty advances. ‘You wouldn’t make me happy at all and I know I would make you extremely miserable.’ (Given half a chance!) ‘No!’ I put my hand up in front of Rob’s face as he’s looking amorous again. I wonder if I am going to need to rugby tackle him to the ground, but I’m worried he might like the attention; he’s such a creep. Quite honestly this guy is beginning to make Mr Collins look a bit of a catch.
‘Really, it’s a definite, absolute no, like not ever.’
‘You can’t be serious,’ Rob replies heavily, ‘and I believe once you’ve had a chance to think about it and talk to your lovely girlfriends, you will reconsider.’
‘I can assure you, I won’t ever change my mind, I never change it, well only with clothes sometimes when I get home and find they make my bottom look huge, but certainly never with important things like relationships.’
‘You’re so amusing.’ Rob advances towards me again. ‘I hope after a girly chat with your friends, you will be ready to agree.’
Oh my God, what do you do with a guy like this? He’s a bit like Dean with his sheer persistence and obstinate refusal to accept a simple no. I consider storming out of the room but decide against it, that would leave Rob loose in my flat; he’d probably make himself at home and start watching TV.
‘Helloo!’ It’s Mel. Thank goodness, what perfect timing. She wanders in with her bags of shopping, takes one look at my demeanour and Rob’s florid face and reads the situation pretty quickly.
‘Rob!’ she says brightly. ‘How are you today? I think Sophie’s a little tired as it was rather a late evening for her.’
‘Yes, yes, I must go, need to brush up on tactics for this week’s tournament.’ And to my great relief, Rob makes as though to go out the door, then startles me by briefly reaching over and placing a horribly wet kiss on my cheek. ‘Till we meet again.’ He gazes at me in what I think he believes is a meaningful manner, and finally leaves.
‘Oh my God,’ Mel splutters and I join her in fits of giggles, total relief at his departure making me giddy with mirth.
‘So, when can I wish you joy?’
‘Never ever in his case, or at all.’ I feel thoroughly deflated. It’s beginning to look as though losers are definitely my lot in life.
Chapter 18
Just when you think things can’t get any worse, they invariably do. Work drags unbearably and even a supposedly glamorous evening with Miffy and Co. at Natasha’s house is unable to take my mind off things. I then stupidly make the mistake of telling my mum about the price of the chandelier in Natasha’s entrance hall during a particularly long and trying phone conversation.
‘Did you just say £5,000? Ridiculous amount of money.’
‘No. Eighty-five thousand,’ I repeat patiently.
‘That’s totally sick,’ she snaps. ‘There are people in the third world dying of thirst and old people dying from lack of health care in this country and yet these ridiculous young bimbos are spending obscene amounts on a lamp. The world’s gone mad.’
‘I agree with you, it is pretty ridiculous, but that’s the way these people live, Mum.’
‘I don’t care if it is, it doesn’t mean you need to mix with them. And how have they got their money, that’s what I want to know?’
‘Modelling, I think, in Natasha’s case.’
‘Huh, she wouldn’t make enough doing that, more like drugs or something dodgy. I’ve read all about it in the paper. I’ll show you the article when I see you.’
Oh dear. I knew I shouldn’t have told Mum about my evening with the editorial team, but the fact is she’s so busy suggesting I should change my job, I thought she’d be pleased I’m doing something proactive. Maybe not.
I hadn’t wanted to go in the first place but the draw of seeing Natasha’s expensive London town house had been too great for me to turn down. The evening had been pretty tedious actually and I made an excuse to come home early but not before I had been amazed by the appearance of Jessica Palmer-Wright while we were eating dinner. She had pretended not to know me, which was odd in itself, but I have to say I was happy with the arrangement as I hardly wanted the editorial team to discover I’m a member of The Jane Austen Dating Agency. The result would be social annihilation.
Odder still, while I was waiting for the butler to bring my coat, inanely examining a huge piece of art on the wall – I think it was art but I’m not really sure – Jessica Palmer-Wright had suddenly appeared beside me, grabbing my arm.
She had spoken in an alcohol-fuelled whisper, her face horribly close. ‘Sophie darling, just wanted to have a teensy word before you go.’
I was too stunned to speak, so she continued, ‘I don’t really feel I know you yet, Sophie, you’re a jolly mysterious girl. (Am I? That’s the first time I’ve been told that.) We really are going to have to see more of each other.’
‘Erm, I’m quite busy at the moment actually,’ I muttered, stepping back to put some distance between us. Jessica PW is easier to cope with when she’s being bitchy and aggressive, this sudden effort to be friendly quite frankly scared me.