Page 123 of Mistaken Impression

“My book’s being published. My agent just called to tell me.”

Her eyes light up. “But that’s great. I knew you’d do it one day.”

I can’t recall her ever being this enthusiastic about my writing when we were together. In fact, as far as I canremember, she used to hate everything about it. She said I was obsessed with it, and I never had any time for her, but there’s no point in worrying about that now.

“Thanks. Can I get you a drink? Or are you here with someone?”

“I am, but it’s just some girls from my old office. We arranged to meet up for a Christmas drink, but they’ll be fine without me for a while.” She smiles up at me. “I’ll have a vodka and tonic, please.”

I nod my head and turn towards the bar as she sits down, clearly intent on staying, regardless of her friends. The distant tinkle of an alarm bell rings in my head, but I dismiss it. Moira and I are ancient history now. This is nothing more than a friendly drink. And besides, I’m not interested. Not any more.

I pay for her vodka and tonic and return to the table, sitting opposite her.

“Thanks,” she says, holding out her glass and I clink mine against it.

“Cheers.”

We both take a sip and put down our glasses. “So… why are you back from America?” she asks, leaning on the table. “I thought you were going for good.”

“I was, but it didn’t work out.”

“Why not? Did the work dry up?”

“Not as such. After I’d finished the commercial contract, I did some theatre work, and then I got a job on a cookery show.” And fell in love.

She grins. “What as? You can barely boil water.”

“Yeah, well… that was the problem. The studio saw through me. They realised I was a fraud and fired me.” I’m not about to mention Ella’s role in any of that. It’s none of Moira’s business.

She reaches out, placing her hand on my arm, but I pull away, picking up my drink to put some distance between us.

“I’m sorry, Mac.”

I shrug my shoulders. “It wasn’t meant to be, and they probably did me a favour. Being unemployed gave me the impetus to re-write my book… and now it’s going to be published.”

“So, you’re back for good?”

“It looks that way.” Especially as I haven’t heard from Ella. I’m not sure if this publishing contract will require me to go back to the States at all, but if it does, it’ll probably be to New York, where Delilah’s based. That’s a good thing, I think. Going back to Boston would remind me too much of what I’ve lost. I cough, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “So… what have you been doing?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Not very much. I changed jobs.” I gathered as much when she said she was meeting some friends from her old office, and I nod my head, pretending an interest I don’t feel.

“Where are you working now?”

“In the admin department at the local college.”

As far as I know, Moira’s jobs have always been administrative. When we were together, she worked in the office of a furniture outlet, and I believe, before that, she was employed at a printer’s.

“Do you enjoy it?”

She shrugs. “It’s okay.”

I nod my head. “Where are you living now?”

She takes a sip of her drink. “After you left, I moved back in with Mum and Dad for a while, but I’ve just got myself a new flat.” Her eyes sparkle, and she smiles. “You should come and see it sometime.”

That alarm bell rings a little louder. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”

“Why not?” she asks.

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