Picking up my phone, I scrolled through my emails until I found the number I was looking for.
‘Harry Francis.’
‘Harry, it’s Annie from Content,’ I said, grinding up an abandoned cigarette butt with the tip of my trainers. There was no smoking at The Ginnel, Martin would go spare if he saw it. ‘How are you?’
‘Bit worse for wear,’ he replied, laughing. ‘And yourself?’
‘Same,’ I admitted, pinching myself as I spoke. Was I really going to do this? ‘Thank you so much for sending over the doughnuts, you really didn’t have to do that.’
‘Happy to, happy to.’ I could tell he was keen to cut to the chase. ‘Did you really call to say thank you or were you wanting to follow up on the conversation we had last night?’
‘Well, yes,’ I said, straightening up. This wasn’t a hunched over, feeling sorry for myself conversation. This was an Annie Higgins, arse-kicker-extraordinaire conversation. There was no need to be nervous this time, I had nothing to lose.
‘As I said, we’ve been looking for a director of digital marketing,’ he began. ‘And I think you’d be perfect for the job. We can talk about the money further down the line, but you’d manage the budgets, the creative—’
‘Would I be able to bring in my own people?’ I asked, cutting him off.
‘Absolutely,’ he replied. ‘It’s a new role so we don’t have anyone else staffing the department at the moment. Did you already have people in mind?’
‘Yes,’ I said. My voice was clear as a bell and even though I wasn’t sure when I’d started the call, now I was absolutely certain. ‘Harry, I’m turning down the job.’
A pigeon cooed on the edge of the roof while Harry processed the information.
‘You are?’
‘I am.’
‘Why do I get the impression that’s not all you have to say?’ Harry asked.
‘Because it isn’t,’ I answered. ‘You said you didn’t want to give Content the Uniteam account because we’re too small and too inexperienced and yet you want to bring me in to run the entire digital marketing team.’
‘It’s a different job,’ Harry explained. ‘A different fit. You’d be part of SetPics, not a separate company. We want your entire focus, Annie. You’re so weighed down with everything else going on over there, we want SetPics to be your priority.’
Here it was. Time to bet on myself.
‘And what if it was?’ I asked. ‘What if I were to strategically manage the digital media for SetPics within Content? I’m prepared to hand over my current responsibilities to other members of my team and work exclusively on the SetPics account. This way you get me and you get the expertise of the rest of Content and you don’t have the pressure of setting up an entirely new division inside your marketing department.’
‘I don’t understand how it would work,’ he said slowly. ‘Just take the job, Annie.’
‘Let me explain it to you.’ I could tell he was curious and I was not about to give up without a fight. I never did. ‘You hire Content on retainer for three months, I’ll be in charge of creative across all your brands, Miranda will execute the strategy. Honestly, Harry, if you’d been able to meet Miranda at the pitch, we wouldn’t be having this phone call. You’d be begging her to take your job, which she never would because she’s too dedicated to Content. This way you get both of us. If it doesn’t work out after three months, we both walk away, no harm done.’
He breathed heavily down the line, deliberating. Somewhere across the river, I could hear him tapping his fingers rhythmically on his desk.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It’s not the way we’ve done things in the past.’
‘The way we did things in the past isn’t always the best way to do them in the present,’ I pointed out. ‘Let us take you for lunch on Monday. If I haven’t sold it to you, Miranda will convince you in five minutes flat.’
Or at least she would as soon as I explained it all to her.
‘And what if it doesn’t work out in three months?’ Harry asked.
‘Then you hire a digital marketing director,’ I said. ‘If I don’t take the job, do you have anyone else lined up to start on Monday or will you have to start recruiting properly? We both know how much fun that will be.’
‘Lunch on Monday then,’ he replied. ‘Roast in Borough Market at one. Don’t be late.’
‘We won’t,’ I promised, heart pounding with the thrill of a gamble that had paid off. ‘See you then, Harry. Have a lovely weekend.’
I ended the call and dropped my red-hot phone on the settee by my side. I was sweating from head to toe. Fighting my way out of the hoodie, I lay back, staring up at the blue, cloudless sky. There was a solution to every problem. I couldn’t turn off my feelings without the use of some very inadvisable class-A drugs and just forget Sam had ever happened with a lobotomy. There was a chance my sister could help with the latter and Brian could most likely get hold of the former, but I was looking for a more constructive solution. If I could win the unwinnable bet, if I could get a second chance at a dream job, why couldn’t I think of a way to get to Sam?
Two minutes later I ran back into the office and snatched up my handbag.
‘Hi,’ I called to the assembled doughnut eaters. ‘Bye.’
‘Oh, she’s off again,’ Miranda sighed, jumping to her feet and following me down the corridor. ‘What are you doing?’
‘We don’t give up and we don’t give in,’ I reminded her, grabbing my handbag. ‘I’m going to see Sam.’
‘Oh shit.’ Mir grabbed her own bag and followed me out the door. ‘On second thoughts, I think I prefer “Yes, I will have another”.’
‘This might be the perfect opportunity for both mottos,’ I said, squeezing her hand. ‘Oh and, I need to talk to you about something on the way.’
No need to be nervous, I reminded myself as Miranda threw me a suspicious glance.
I had nothing to lose.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Traffic in London was never not terrible and every second we sat in the back of the black cab, my heart pounded faster, taking seconds and minutes off my life.
‘What are you going to say to him?’ Mir asked.
I pulled my seatbelt out as far as it would go and then let it ping back. Pulled it out as far as it would go and let it ping back.
‘No idea,’ I replied. ‘But I had no idea what I was going to say to Harry until I started talking and I’ve managed to get a foot in that door. Let’s see what happens.’
‘About that, you’re insane, by the way,’ she said, peeling a stray strand of hair off my sweaty forehead. ‘Do you think he’ll go for it?’
‘It’ll save the company,’ I said. ‘And I honestly think you could talk the hind legs off a donkey, so we’ll see how it goes on Monday.’
‘No pressure then,’ Mir said, yanking on her own seatbelt as we pulled around the corner into Bloomsbury.
I paid the taxi driver and ordered Mir to stay exactly where she was, quiet and out of sight. Sam spooked easily, we didn’t need to make this any worse. I couldn’t think of any reason why Elaine would be at home in the middle of the day on a Friday and our last two interactions hadn’t gone especially well, so I was very much hoping she would be at work. All I needed was two minutes. To tell him I was sorry, explain I’d only posted those pictures to make him a success, to tell him how many books he’d sold, how people shared his love of history. He would understand eventually. He would have to.
I pressed the doorbell but no one answered.
I pressed it again. Nothing.
‘One more go,’ I whispered to myself, the butterflies in my stomach settling down as I started to accept that he might not be home. Still no voice on the intercom. Instead, a face appeared at the bedroom window.
‘Oh, bollocks,’ I muttered as Elaine’s face registered mine. I turned quickly, crossing my arms wildly in front of myself. ‘Mir, run for it,’ I shouted. ‘Abort mission, abort mission!’
r /> ‘Oi!’
Elaine was considerably faster than me. Must have been all those Crossfit classes.
‘It’s you, you’re the girl who showed up to Aggy’s birthday party,’ she said, grabbing hold of my hood and yanking me backwards. I ran on the spot for a moment, almost choking myself. I watched as Mir disappeared around the corner and silently screamed for help. ‘You’re the one who’s responsible for all this shit.’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I choked, rubbing my throat. ‘I’m just the office fire marshal.’
‘Yeah, pull the other one,’ Elaine said, dropping my hood as if it were on fire and folding her hands under her armpits. She looked embarrassed. ‘You’re the reason he left.’
‘He left?’
Now I looked at her, I saw her eyes were red and puffy, her nose was red raw. She’d been crying. I hadn’t noticed at first, I’d been too busy looking at her abs. Actual visible abs peeking out the top of her waistband. I didn’t think I’d ever seen any IRL before.
‘I didn’t even want him,’ she said, a certain edge of hysteria in her voice. Behind her, I saw Wellington slinking out the door, rubbing himself on the doorframe. ‘I dumped him. I had already moved on. And then he turns up with his speech and his haircut and his new jeans and I think, yeah, I’ll give it a chance. And then all of a sudden, he’s changed his mind? I don’t think so.’
I puffed out my cheeks and shrugged. ‘People change their minds all the time,’ I said, keeping my eyes on Wellington. ‘Who’s to say he won’t change it back again?’
Elaine scoffed. ‘No man leaves a warm bed for a cold one,’ she said. ‘There’s something going on with you two.’
‘There really isn’t,’ I promised before nodding towards the cat. ‘Should he be outside?’
She looked confused.
‘Samuel?’
‘Wellington,’ I replied as the terrible tabby made a run for it across the garden.
‘Oh shit,’ she muttered, dashing after him. ‘He’s not allowed out, Samuel is going to go spare.’
The cat stopped in front of an oak tree and started circling, eyeing us both as we approached.
‘You go left, I’ll go right,’ I said, slowing down my steps and crouching down, offering Wellington a handful of nothing. ‘All right you tart,’ I whispered. ‘Don’t you dare go up that tree.’
He immediately went up the tree.
‘OK, enough’s enough,’ Elaine said, pushing her dark brown hair out of her face. ‘I’m not standing here with you, waiting for his cat to climb out of a tree. You can have him. I never wanted him in the first place.’
‘Sam?’ I asked.
‘Wellington,’ she replied. ‘But you can have him as well. Wherever he is.’
‘He’s not home?’ I asked as Miranda reappeared, pressing her hand into her side. ‘Sam, I mean?’
‘This isn’t Samuel’s home any more,’ Elaine said coldly. ‘He left yesterday, said he’d be back for the cat. He can have him if he can find him, or you can take him – I don’t care.’
‘Do you know where he went?’ I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be in a rush to help me locate her two-time ex, but it had to be worth a try.
‘Nope,’ she replied, looking down at her watch. ‘And I don’t care. I have a dance competition tonight with Gianni, my new boyfriend. When you see Samuel, make sure you tell him that.’
‘Will do,’ I promised with a squint. ‘Break a leg.’
Or both of them, I thought to myself as Elaine walked back inside, throwing me a one-fingered salute as she went.
‘I was halfway back to the office and I turned around and you weren’t there,’ Miranda gasped, jogging over. ‘Wasn’t that—?’
‘Yes.’
‘And isn’t that?’
‘Yes.’
I looked up at Wellington, who was perched on all fours. The second Elaine’s door slammed shut, he leapt down out of the tree and into my arms.
‘So Sam wasn’t home?’ Mir asked.
‘He wasn’t.’ I scritched Wellington underneath the chin and he purred approvingly. ‘And if he didn’t take this little bugger with him, I’d assume it’s because he’s gone to his brother’s.’
She nodded, giving Wellington a sweet pat and getting a nasty swipe for her trouble.
‘And where’s that?’ she said, giving Wellington the frowning of a lifetime.
‘I have no idea,’ I said with a sigh. ‘But I’ll bet we can find him.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Saturday, 4 August
‘I can’t believe we can’t find his brother,’ I wailed, twenty-four hours later. ‘Why is this so hard?’
‘I can’t believe Sam was savvy enough to block us all on Facebook,’ Brian groaned. ‘I mean, all of us. Even Nat and Zadie can’t find the mysterious second Mr Page.’
‘All we gave them to go on is he’s divorced and he’s got a brother named Samuel,’ I said, collapsing on the floor of my flat. ‘How many divorcees are there in London with a brother named Sam? We don’t know he’s even in London. Sam never said.’
Brian gave me a sad smile from his spot at the breakfast bar. ‘We’ll get there eventually,’ he promised. ‘Or I’ll get you so drunk we’ll destroy all the brain cells that remember him. Don’t worry, I’ve always got your back.’
Miranda kicked my foot from her spot on my armchair.
‘He’s right,’ she said. ‘People don’t just disappear, he’ll turn up eventually.’
Even Wellington threw in a supportive chirrup from the broken loveseat.
‘I hope you’re right,’ I said, poking him with my big toe.
We’d spent what felt like all night searching for Sam, and his brother, online. I’d tried calling his mobile, Miranda had tried calling his mobile, Brian had tried calling his mobile. We’d even convinced the Indian restaurant down the street to let me try ringing him from their landline but five poppadoms and ten tries later, he still wasn’t answering. At almost lunchtime on Saturday, I was about ready to call it a day and go back to bed. It turned out I could do anything I put my mind to except for the most important thing of all.
Across the room, Brian’s phone rumbled across the breakfast bar with a message.
‘It’s Zadie,’ he said, turning around excitedly. ‘She says Nat’s found him.’
‘You’re kidding.’ I sat bolt upright while Brian enlarged an attached photo. ‘Where? How?’
‘They’ve been following the Hot Historian hashtag on Insta, this just came up in someone’s stories,’ Brian said. ‘Looks like he’s giving a talk or something?’
He handed me the phone and there he was. Sam, my Sam, standing behind a lectern in a shirt and tie, a heart eyes emoji vibrating in the top corner of the screen.
‘It’s his lecture,’ I realized, my brain fog starting to clear. ‘Today is his lecture on the lord lieutenants of Ireland. But I can’t remember where it is, ULU, UCL, Kings? One of the universities. Why can’t I remember this? He talked about it all the time.’
‘Brian, google it,’ Miranda ordered. ‘Don’t worry, Annie. This, we can find.’
‘And what am I supposed to do?’ I asked, scrambling to my feet and dancing up and down on the spot.
‘Brush your hair and clean your teeth, for a start,’ she replied. ‘Go! If he’s already started, we haven’t got much time.’
‘I don’t know, he does like to go on,’ I said, running for the bathroom. ‘Brian, any joy?’
‘He’s at ULU and we’ve got forty-five minutes to get there,’ he replied. ‘I’ll call a taxi.’
‘Call an Uber!’ Miranda exclaimed as I fumbled for the toothpaste with shaky hands.
‘You know I’m morally against them as a company and—’
‘Then call a fucking taxi!’ I shrieked. ‘Just get me a car and get it right now.’
I had forty-five minutes before he vanished off the face of the earth again. There was no way I was letting him get away this time.
&n
bsp; ‘There’s nothing I can do about your hair,’ Brian said with a sniff in the back of the cab. ‘Better leave it up and pretend it’s supposed to look like that.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said, pushing him away as we pulled up outside the university. ‘Miranda, can you sort the taxi? I’ll pay you back.’
‘Yes, Miranda,’ Brian said, following me out the cab. ‘Please sort the taxi.’
‘I don’t want to miss anything,’ she called after us as we spilled out of the shiny silver Prius and into the ancient buildings, looking for the right lecture hall. ‘Don’t start without me.’
‘Excuse me,’ I said, stopping short in front of a startled student. ‘Do you know where the historical symposium is being held today? I’m looking for the lecture on the lord lieutenants of Ireland.’
He pulled a skinny white earbud out of his ear and blinked slowly.
‘What?’
‘Kids today, you mean excuse me,’ Brian corrected before physically pushing him out of the way. ‘Annie, over there.’ He pointed at a small square sign with too much writing on it. ‘This way!’
We raced across a bike path, narrowly avoiding a Boris bike, into the foyer of what looked like a cathedral. Through the crosshatched glass windows in the door, I could see Sam stood in front of a lectern, just like he was in the video the girl had posted, hundreds of heads turned to face him as he gave his lecture.
‘Are you ready?’ Brian said as Miranda staggered up the path to meet us, panting and out of breath.
‘You really need to hit the gym,’ I told her, straightening my dress. I was too dressed up. I was too hot. I hadn’t thought enough about what I wanted to say. ‘And no, I’m not. Is this a terrible idea?’