There was no doubt that he was a really great guy. He was a few years younger than her and had a boyish face that made him look even more youthful. Zak had a great sense of humour, soft blue eyes that would melt the hardest of hearts and he was always happy and smiling. At Happening Today he was a respected web designer and kept the site looking sharp and contemporary to keep up with the competition. It was also nice to know that there was someone she could confide in at work about her relationship with Jude. Zak really seemed to understand what she was going through.
He pecked her on the cheek. ‘I’ll be back at eight to pick you up.’
‘I don’t know, Zak . . .’
‘It wasn’t a question,’ he said, standing.
Lauren threw a cushion at him. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
‘Remember . . .’ He winked at her. ‘Low-cut top.’
Zak let himself out of the flat and, despite her misery, Lauren found herself grinning.
Chapter 8
I work at an events company called Party Party. About six months ago, I changed my job with the hope of bringing a little more excitement into my life. Since the kids first started school, I’d worked part-time at a building society in the city centre. Nice, steady work but it was dull, dull, dull.
Now I’m a receptionist at a company that puts on corporate events and parties. Is it any more exciting? I don’t think the actual work’s much different really, but it’s surely a step in the right direction. I’m surrounded by fun, creative people who get to do wonderful things and go to wonderful places. I might not be one of them, but I love to hear the stories about the lavish parties that they’ve created where budgets are unlimited, no expense spared. How I’d love to go along to one. I imagine that they’d be like Chelsea’s fortieth birthday party on steroids.
I wonder why Chelsea didn’t use my company to plan her event, but perhaps she’s forgotten where I’m working now. We don’t talk that much about my life on the rare occasions that she phones. That’s generally because I don’t have anything of any great interest to tell her. I ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ in the right places over the marvellous things that she’s done and hope that she doesn’t notice that my life is interminably tedious and small.
The front door swings open and I sit up straighter.
‘Morning, Sexy.’ That’s Blake Chadwick. He’s one of the partners here. A big-wig.
‘Right back at you,’ I say cheekily, even though I can feel myself flushing.
He laughs at that. BC, as we call him, has the most luscious mouth. He’s as fit as you like and doesn’t he know it. All the girls here are mad for him. He’s very trendy, wears suits so sharp that you could cut yourself on them and has a shaved head and a diamond stud in his ear that’s bigger than my engagement ring. He’s what my daughter Ellen would call ‘one cool dude’. But then she’s young and impressionable – whereas I’m not supposed to be.
Mind you, I hope she never brings home anyone like Blake Chadwick. He’d eat my daughter alive. Confident to the point of arrogance and beyond, he has a different woman on his arm every week, according to the girls who see him out clubbing. I’m sure he only goes out around here to further his contacts, though. The likes of Blake Chadwick would be much happier in London at clubs like Whisky Mist or Chinawhite – wherever the latest, hottest place is. BC is in his late twenties and, apparently, he’s got one daughter by a previous partner. By all accounts he doesn’t see much of her. Every night of the week there’s an event on somewhere that he’s obliged to turn up at. It must be hard being a father if you’re never around.
‘How’s it looking today, Angie?’
‘It’s looking good. And it’s Annie.’
He waves as he disappears into the offices. ‘Catch you later, Sexy.’
I bet BC’s not the sort to laze around on the sofa on a Sunday night with a Chinese takeaway. Like Greg and I did last night.
We always go to the same takeway. The Hong Kong Garden. Greg always has the same thing. Chicken curry and chips. Not very Chinese. I try to have something different from the menu every week even though I have my favourites. I think it’s good to be adventurous. So I close my eyes and just stick a pin into the threefold menu and have whatever it comes down on. It seems to work for me – even though sometimes the dish doesn’t turn out to be quite as nice as you might hope. The Szechuan-style squid and mushrooms with bean curd was a bit of a low point, but I managed it all just to spite Greg who always laughs at the way I choose my meal. You have to try and live a little, don’t you?
One of the young girls totters in next. She’s wearing heels that must be six inches high. I’ve no idea how she walks in them. Mind you, Minny’s skirt’s so tight that I don’t think she could actually stride out anyway.
‘Hiya, Annie,’ she says brightly. ‘Nice weekend?’
‘Yes.’ What else can I say? Minny wouldn’t be interested in a download of my sister’s fortieth birthday party as she goes to that sort of thing every night of the week. She wouldn’t be interested in my life-changing decision either. But what could I tell her? ‘I’ve decided to change my life, but I’m not quite sure how yet.’ That doesn’t sound terribly dynamic when I say it like that.
‘Are you coming to the meeting at lunchtime?’
‘What meeting?’ First I’ve heard about it. Because I’m out of sight on the front desk all day, they do sometimes forget to tell me things.
‘We’re on about doing something for charity, as a company,’ Minny tells me. ‘Fancy coming along?’
‘What sort of thing?’
‘Dunno,’ she shrugs. ‘I’m game for anything.’
That’s the type of people who work here. They don’t care about what they do or worry about how they are going to pay for it or fret about what others will think of them. They’re reckless, creative, funloving and adventurous. They’re the sort of people that I’d really like to be.
‘Yes,’ I say a little breathlessly. ‘I’d love to come along.’
Chapter 9
Jude and Lauren were in the office kitchen. It was early. Lauren had come in before eight o’clock praying that they’d be able to grab a few moments alone before the rest of the staff arrived and the opportunity was lost. Now it was eight-thirty and Jude had only just arrived. Time was tight.
His arms were around her and she felt like weeping with relief. She’d survived another weekend intact. He hadn’t suddenly had a fabulous family time and a subsequent change of heart. She was still the one he loved.
‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he murmured against her neck. They were pressed up against the cupboard in the corner, out of the view of the window. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but she could feel his body hardening nevertheless. She was aroused too, to the point of distraction. What a way to start the working week! Was it all this sexual tension between them that kept her coming back for more? What would it be like when they eventually lived together? Would the chemistry between them still be as electric? They were five years into this affair and, even now, couldn’t get enough of each other. She hoped that it would always be like this for as long as they lived.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t hear your call,’ she told him.
‘I could only stay for a minute anyway,’ he said. ‘Both of the kids have been ill.’
She’d envisaged them playing in the park, Jude swinging them high in his arms, spinning, spinning and laughter, lots of laughter. Now she knew differently. ‘Nothing serious?’
He shook his head, his beautiful mop of black hair. ‘Colds. Dastardly. I’ve seen enough snot to last me a lifetime. You don’t want to know the details.’
But she did. She wanted to know everything about him, no matter how trivial. It was best not to say that though, otherwise he thought she was being too clingy.
‘I’m sorry about the party.’ He pulled his little boy’s face. ‘Did you have a good time without me?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘It was dull. Annie was unwell, so we went to bed early.’
>
‘Poor darling.’
Lauren decided not to tell him that she’d been out to a gig with Zak last night. Sometimes he could be a bit funny about their friendship. It was as if he resented Zak knowing their secret, as if Zak had one over on him. So she thought it was better to keep quiet.
The gig had been surprisingly good – a new singer who sounded like Duffy. Some of Zak’s friends had been there too, guys that he used to play in a band with years ago and they’d made her laugh. And she’d drunk too much. Again. The make-up had been applied just that little bit thicker this morning to hide the ravages.
‘Can we sneak out to lunch together?’
‘Not today,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a meeting.’
‘Oh.’ She hated it when he fixed lunchtime meetings, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.
The flat where she lived was in West Hampstead, the office in Camden in a converted warehouse by the side of the canal – not that far apart, but sometimes she wished they were nearer so they could go there for some privacy in the lunch-hour or straight from work. Time always seemed to be against them. But that’s what you got for trying to fit two lives into one, she supposed.
Jude glanced at his watch. It was a Breitling – one that he’d lusted after for a while. It had appeared on his wrist shortly after his birthday. He said that he’d treated himself to it as the company was doing well, but she didn’t like to think where it had really come from. Had Georgia been the one to buy it for him? It pained Lauren that she could never afford to buy him presents like that. Even though she had a decent salary, a Breitling was still way beyond her price range.
‘I’d better be going to my office,’ he said.
‘I need to talk to you,’ she said, laying a hand on his chest. The heat of it almost made her feel dizzy. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking at the weekend.’
‘Not now,’ he said, ‘but later. Later in the week.’
‘I don’t think that I can keep on doing this,’ she told him. ‘Not indefinitely.’
‘I know,’ Jude said. ‘And I’ll fix it.’ He stroked her face tenderly. But she could see him check his watch again surreptitiously. ‘You know I will.’
‘We’ve been doing this for five years, Jude. Five years. It isn’t right, and it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair to any of us.’
‘I know.’ He kissed her briefly and then straightened his sweater. He looked fabulous today in black cashmere, white jeans and black Cuban-heel boots. Like a model in an aftershave advert. Just looking at him made her mouth go dry and other parts of her go very wet. ‘Later, my love. Now, I’m outta here.’
The door swung closed behind him and she leaned against the cupboards, trying to stem the flow of tears.
A minute later, and it swung open again. Her heart leaped and she sniffed back her tears, turning to the door with a beaming smile.
‘Whoa,’ Zak said. ‘Wrong guy?’
Lauren’s expression slipped back into misery and she nodded.
‘Same old song again?’ he asked.
She started to cry. Zak slipped his arm round her shoulder and squeezed.
One day he would leave, she thought. One day Jude would keep his promise to her. All this waiting couldn’t be for nothing. She just had to bide her time. She just had to believe.
Chapter 10
At lunchtime we all sit in the staff room. We’re a small company with only twenty or so people who work here and we all get on really well. Most days, the offices are deserted as the teams are out on site setting up for events. We have very nice premises on a high-end business park in Milton Keynes. The floors are brushed steel, the desks are frosted glass. All lovely, lovely.
I’m in the corner, quietly eating my sandwiches. Cheese today, as there was nothing else remotely interesting in the fridge. My mind is still in a whirl after the weekend and I can’t bring myself to join in the general chit-chat.
The Managing Director, Sarah Bennett, comes in and claps her hands to get our attention. BC is behind her and he gives me a friendly wink.
‘Hi, gang,’ she says. Sarah is young, trendy, a powerhouse. A woman who runs her own company, makes her own decisions, buys designer labels. She makes me feel old and tired just looking at her. ‘My idea is that we should do something for charity as a company. It would be a great way to do some team bonding and raise a serious amount of cash while we’re at it.’
See? Why don’t I think of things like that? I’ve become so narrow in my life that I can’t even begin to think out of the box.
‘We could do the London Marathon together,’ someone suggests.
‘Passé,’ Sarah decides. ‘Been there, done that. Got the T-shirt three years on the run. No pun intended.’ Everyone laughs at that. ‘I thought we’d try something a little bit more exotic, more colourful.’
I put down my sandwich and sit up.
‘Blake,’ Sarah turns to her colleague. ‘Do you want to do the honours?’
Obligingly, he passes round some small brochures.
‘The Inca Trail,’ Sarah says before the leaflets reach me. ‘A two-week trip including a four-day hike in deepest, darkest Peru. Does anyone fancy giving it a go?’
Hands shoot up. Looks like a popular choice. Minny, sitting next to me, passes me a brightly coloured brochure. I’m surprised to see that my fingers are trembling when I take it.
‘Where’s Peru?’ one of the team asks.
‘Where Paddington Bear comes from,’ someone shouts.
‘South America,’ Sarah fills in. ‘This is an organised trek for charity. The company’s called Dream Days and we’d be raising money for them to take terminally ill children to spend time doing something they’d always dreamed of.’
A tear wells up in my eye. I look round but no one else seems so moved, they just look excited at the prospect of doing this.
‘We’re thinking of going this September, so there’s not a lot of time to prepare. You’d need to use two weeks of your annual holiday entitlement as we’ll need some time there before we do the trail to acclimatise to the altitude, plus there are some great sights to see. You’d also need to raise two thousand, five hundred pounds for the charity to pay for your place.’
I gasp that in. No one seems to notice. Or to feel that two and a half thousand pounds is one hell of a lot of money. Greg and I don’t have cash lying around like that.
Sarah continues, ‘The company will give everyone who decides to do the trek a start of five hundred pounds.’
Cheering for that.
‘And you’d need to get fit, fit, fit!’ She punches the air.
More cheering and clapping. Most of these guys spend half of their week down at the gym, so I can’t see a problem there. It’s flabby old me that I’m worried about.
‘So, team?’ Rabble-rousing voice. ‘Do you think we can do it?’
‘Yeah!’ Everyone punches the air. So do I. A minute too late.
‘Yeah,’ I echo quietly.
‘This is the itinerary,’ Sarah says. ‘We’d be travelling . . .’
Then I zone out as I look down at the brochure in my hand. There are a group of trekkers, grinning broadly on the front. They’re wearing a rag-tag assortment of traditional Inca costumes, colourful ponchos, woven in bright reds, greens and yellows topped with gaudy knitted hats.
Behind them is the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever laid eyes on. My fingers trace the contours of the towering, lush mountains, stark endless deserts, miles of unbroken blue sky. Machu Picchu. The Sacred Valley or Lost City of the Incas. The Nazca Lines. The words blur in front of me. The sky is the colour of sapphires, the trees the colour of emeralds, and the ruins of the ancient Aztec city rise out of the clouds like a diamond. It looks impossibly exotic and alien. I’m mesmerised by its remote beauty. I’ve never been to a place like that before.
‘So,’ Sarah’s words bring me back from my daydream. ‘How many of you are up for it?’
Nearly everyone puts their hands up. They all turn round to
look at me. In fact, everyone has put their hand up except me.
‘Annie?’
My mouth has gone dry. My heart is pounding in my chest. Sarah is waiting for answer.
‘No,’ I say. My cheeks are burning with humiliation. ‘I can’t do it.’
‘That’s such a shame,’ she says with a sympathetic smile that makes me want to curl up and die. Then she moves on to explaining what everyone needs to do next.
And I sit there frozen to the spot, a vision of Machu Picchu burned on my eyes. This could have been my one big chance to do something different, do something worthwhile and I couldn’t do it. I’m too frightened, too unfit, too old to go trekking up mountains. I’ve never done anything like this before. How would I manage? How would I keep up with these energetic young things who’d probably scamper up there like mountain goats? I don’t have that kind of cash kicking around either. How would I raise it? Most damningly, I haven’t got the courage. I’ve never done anything like this before – have never dared – and just the thought of it is making my stomach roil.
So while the others plan their exciting journey, I slink out of the staff room and go back to my desk and wonder why, when I was offered my big chance to change my life – maybe my one big chance – I was too scared to get out of my rut.
Chapter 11
Lauren took off her headset and powered down her screen. The day had been impossibly busy and she’d hardly caught a glimpse of Jude at all. Still, it had given her the chance to catch up with her own work, and what else had she got to rush home for? The rest of the staff had long gone for the night and she was waiting patiently, hoping that he’d come out of his office soon.