‘For God’s sake, Rob, leave him alone, it’s just a game.’ Mel dashes across the room and pulls on Rob’s arm. He’s such a weakling he’s soon overpowered long before the security guards grab him.
‘That was embarrassing,’ I say in the taxi on the way home, wondering for the millionth time how Mel puts up with this nerd.
‘I tell you it was rigged; they’d done something with the dice,’ Rob blurts, then promptly passes out.
‘He never was good with his drink,’ Mel says drily. ‘He’ll probably wake up with one hell of a hangover and then act as though nothing happened.’
‘Is he often like this?’ I ask. ‘I don’t know how you put up with him.’
‘Fingers crossed it’s not for much longer.’ She smiles and I hope she’s right. Personally, for me, a little of Rob goes an awfully long way.
Izzy’s asleep when I get back but Maria has waited up.
‘I hope you don’t mind but Matthew dropped in tonight,’ she says diffidently.
‘Of course not, he’s always welcome and he’s very attentive.’ I smile.
‘Yes, Izzy seemed a whole lot more cheerful this evening and he’s left her a book of John Masefield’s poetry to read. Apparently they’re going to discuss it tomorrow.’
‘How romantic.’ I pause for a second to sigh. I don’t know how Izzy does it; attracting two handsome poetry-reading guys in a few weeks, when I can’t even find one.
‘How did your evening go? Was it as bad as you expected?’ Maria asks.
Briefly I recount the happenings of the soiree, keeping the bit with Daniel especially short as I really don’t want to talk about him, he’s such a waste of space. We discuss the situation with Josh at length, however. Maria’s still angry about his behaviour but sorry for him at the same time.
‘It sounds like he loves her really.’
‘Do you think we should tell her? I don’t want to upset her again,’ I ponder aloud.
Izzy wanders in, rubbing her eyes blearily. She looks touchingly young in her fluffy rabbit onesie. ‘Tell me what?’
Maria and I exchange glances.
‘I saw Josh this evening,’ I say carefully. Of course I tell her the details of our conversation as gently as I can. Maria and I are both almost holding our breath, hoping this isn’t going to set her back.
‘I guess at least I can take comfort from the fact he does love me,’ she says weakly after an uncomfortably long silence.
‘Of course, that’s true,’ says Maria.
‘But not enough,’ Izzy continues.
‘He’s just a very mixed up young man who’s in rather a lot of trouble,’ Maria says sensibly.
‘I guess, and who’s to say he would have been happy with me? I reckon he’s the kind of guy who’s always going to struggle with money, gambling and stuff.’
‘I think you’re right.’ I smile encouragingly at her. ‘And anyway, more excitingly, I hear the gorgeous Matthew was here all evening reading to you.’
‘Yes.’ Izzy gives a watery smile. ‘In fact, I promised him I would check out the poems he brought for me. I’d better get reading the rest; I want to ask him about something in one of them.’
‘I’ll bring you a hot chocolate,’ I call as she disappears back to her room.
‘She took that well.’ Maria heaves a sigh of relief. ‘By the way, Emma phoned while you were out.’
‘Oh?’ I pour milk into three mugs.
‘She wanted to tell you about a seminar or something. She certainly seemed surprised you were at the Regency Gambling Night, didn’t think it was your thing.’
‘It certainly isn’t,’ I remark with feeling.
Chapter 28
The next day I’m back at work and it’s a bit of a relief. In spite of my tiredness – I think I was on autopilot on the tube this morning and was almost surprised when I got to work so quickly – I’m ready to kick butt. As soon as I arrive at Modiste House, I mount the stairs with purpose and stride onto the sales floor as though I’m someone, instead of my usual apologetic bumbling entrance.
‘Morning, Sheena, Gina, Kelli, Caitlin – good weekend?’ I breeze past casually.
Once at my desk, I rearrange my sales folder. Today I’m going to sell a lot of advertising space, I can do this. I flick past my embarrassing trickle of sales from the previous week and pick a fresh page with columns neatly laid out.
Suddenly I notice Heidi’s desk is empty. ‘Heidi not here yet?’ I ask, surprised; she’s always incredibly punctual.
The girls exchange conspiratorial looks, then Caitlin nods to Gina. She sneaks up to my desk, having taken a quick peek to see if Amanda is around. ‘Heidi’s quit,’ Gina says in an excited whisper.
‘What, just like that?’
‘Yes, you missed all the drama – as you’re always late.’ Gina rolls her eyes at the listening sales team.
‘Actually, I was on time this morning.’
‘Yes, but, darling, the rest of us always get here at eight,’ Caitlin bitches, self-satisfied as ever. The girls titter. As far as I’m concerned I’ve always been told the day starts at nine and that’s the way it is. Besides, my train doesn’t get in till 8.50am.
‘So, what happened?’ I ask.
‘She rang up this morning and spoke to Amanda. I thought Heidi must have phoned to say she’s sick, but Amanda spent some time talking to her on the phone. Amanda sounded quite upset. Anyway, Sheena happened to be walking past to get to the stationery cupboard and overheard that Heidi’s left.’ Gina has the satisfied smirk of a newspaper reporter with an exclusive.
Amanda sails in… ‘Girls!’ she exclaims loudly, ‘I thought you would all be on the phones by now. The weekend is over, you know.’
Gina scuttles away to her desk like a startled rabbit and the others immediately pretend to be busy and in the middle of something.
‘While I have your attention, darlings, I’m sorry to announce that Heidi has left us.’ Amanda’s tone makes it sound as though Heidi is a soldier who has defected to the enemy camp. The fake sad expressions of the rest of the sales team are so insincere I have to bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing. It’s a good job Mark isn’t in the room, because I would lose it completely.
‘This of course is a great pity, but Heidi was obviously not aware of the incredible opportunity Modiste represents, so it is her loss.’
I gasp audibly and have to turn it into a pretend cough. Heidi’s quite a nice girl, certainly a darn sight better than the rest of the team and a hard worker; she was at Modiste when we joined. In fact, she’s the only one who’s ever been vaguely kind to me. I’m sorry she’s left. She never seemed fed up or unhappy but then you never know, she must have hidden it well.
I crack on with the sales calls, zinging through the list in a businesslike manner, even taking it cheerfully on the chin when Tina from Brides at Home tells me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t need to advertise, but phrasing it in a very uncouth way as to where I should stick the magazine and slams down the phone.