Page 100 of The Fallback

‘He did?’ said Rosie, looking up at Jasmine in surprise.

‘Well no, not exactly. But he did say you could stay for a night or two.’

ChapterTwenty-Five

‘Drop us here, and then you can go and find somewhere to park,’ Nadia commanded imperiously. Rosie muttered a thank you to the ever patient Nico who was evidently used to being treated worse than a Uber driver.

‘Don’t you need to tip him?’ Rosie asked with a wink as they stood together on the pavement outside Rachel’s beautiful Highgate house and watched Nico pull away from the curb.

‘What? No. Don’t be silly. He doesn’t mind. He’s not one for parties anyway, so he’d probably rather be searching for a parking spot for half the night.’ Nadia paused. ‘At least I think that’s the case?’ She suddenly looked less sure about the way she had just treated her husband and glanced distractedly over her shoulder as if wondering whether to call him back and offer to park the car herself. Or perhaps to tip him. Rosie smiled at Nadia’s confused face.

‘Come on,’ said Rosie, grabbing her friend. ‘Let’s get this over with. The sooner we’re in, the sooner we can get out.’

‘Not the attitude!’ Nadia replied, having regained her composure. ‘It’s a party, Rosie, we’re here to have fun. Remember what that is?’ Rosie raised her eyebrow at Nadia and they walked up the steps together.

Earlier that evening Nadia had arrived, uninvited, at Jasmine and Chris’s house and staged a one-woman intervention. She was halfway through a rousing speech when Rosie had held her hands up and said, ‘I get it, I know. I need to go to the party. I don’t want to.’ She paused. ‘I’m scared of seeing Rachel and Mitch. But I know I need to face up to this. And talk to Mitch, listen to what he has to say. And work up the courage to ask him if he can help with that email.’ She shuddered.

‘Great!’ Nadia had said. ‘But, don’t take this the wrong way, you look bloody awful.’

Seeing Rosie’s face, Jasmine had rushed to her side. ‘You look great, Rosie. Nothing a shower and some make-up won’t fix. Come on, you can raid my wardrobe.’

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth Rosie had allowed herself to be led upstairs where Jasmine and Nadia had bonded over her makeover. So here she was now, stood in front of Rachel's house, knowing she needed to deal with whatever the evening held. And hoping that the (incredibly expensive) clothes she had borrowed from Jasmine would form some kind of protective armour around her.

Rachel’s front door was decked in a beautiful Christmas wreath, the sounds of the party could be heard out on the street and the windows were stylishly lit from within by candlelight.

The party was already in full flow. They were met at the door by a waiter carrying a tray of champagne and another one who took their coats. Rosie craned her neck to see where he had taken them in case she needed to make a speedy exit later. If it had been a coat of hers, she might have cut her losses and run, but it was Jasmine’s and Rosie valued her life too much.

Rosie suspiciously eyed the tray being proffered but Nadia had grabbed two glasses and swept her through the door before she had a chance to ask if sparkling water was an option – alcohol hadnotbeen her friend recently. They made their way through the crowd of guests on the ground floor. There was not a lab coat to be seen, everyone was in glamorous dresses, chic suits or a combination of the two. Rosie saw one girl, who she knew she had met at a previous party but couldn’t remember the name of, who was wearing the most incredible corset top – all black silk and boning and with feathers down the back. It was cut so low that Rosie felt flushed just trying not to stare. She was downing a glass of champagne and laughing loudly at something the man next to her was saying. Catching Rosie’s eye, the girl raised her glass and smiled. Rosie lifted her eyes away from where they had been resting a moment before and smiled back, before feeling herself propelled forward by Nadia.

They had yet to see Rachel, although they discovered lots of their colleagues congregated in the basement kitchen. Rosie found herself sipping her glass of champagne slowly, propped against a table in the corner of the room.

‘Do you need another one?’ Nadia shouted over the increasingly loud conversation, evidently having downed hers quite quickly.

‘No, I’m fine,’ Rosie replied.

‘Sorry, what?’ Nadia shouted back. Rosie held up her glass and pointed to it while shaking her head.

‘OK! I do. I’ll meet you back down here,’ Nadia said and turned to go back upstairs in search of another drink. She turned back at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Don’t do a runner!’ she warned, fixing Rosie with a stare.

Rosie smiled at her sweetly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

But it was hot and loud and no one was paying her any attention so she edged towards the double doors that led out into the courtyard garden. She had half a mind on getting some fresh air and the other half on wondering whether this might be a possible escape route. She could always claim that she fell through the doors, accidentally locking herself out of the party, and then as she couldn’t find the front door, she went home, and put her sweatpants on and never left her house again.

Rosie felt for the handle behind her. It turned easily and she slipped out into the darkness of the garden. Very quietly, she closed the door behind her and immediately the sounds of the party became muffled and distant. She took a deep breath, feeling the cold air burn in her lungs. She exhaled and stared up at the sky. Not that she could see much, it was London and most of the stars were blocked out by light pollution. As if she needed another reminder of her urban surroundings, a car horn blared nearby followed soon afterwards by the siren of an emergency vehicle. On the next road over she could hear the sounds of drunk revellers; Christmas party season was in full force.

Despite the streetlights it was still dark in the garden, high walls ran all the way around it and ivy crept up some of them adding to the feeling of enclosure. Rosie had been here before, though, and was fairly sure there was a small round metal table in the far corner with chairs surrounding it. She edged her way carefully towards it, feeling with her feet over the slightly uneven ground. A large London plane tree shaded that part of the garden and the table was hard to make out. Rosie felt the leg of the table and next to it a chair. Carefully placing her glass on the table, she gingerly sat down where she thought the chair might be and screamed.

Instead of coming into contact with cold metal, she felt the warmth of two limbs and quickly realised someone else had had the same idea and was sat in the exact chair that she had chosen.

‘This one is taken,’ came a voice as her scream echoed away.

‘Mitch?’ Rosie had stood back up by this point and was staring at where the voice had come from. She was just beginning to make out the tall, lanky frame of Mitch sat at the table. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

‘Same thing as you I should imagine. Trying to avoid the party, wondering what I was thinking coming here,’ he said. ‘Avoidingyou. Ironic really, isn’t it?’ he said after a pause. She could see he had cocked his head to one side.

‘Right,’ said Rosie, ‘well, I don’t want to ruin your evening. I’ll leave you to it.’ She turned and walked more quickly this time back towards the door to the kitchen. But as she drew closer she heard a very distinctive sound, the sound of a key turning in a lock. Looking up she saw Nadia stood in the glass doorway holding up a key.

‘What are you doing?’ Rosie yelped.

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