Page 61 of The Do-Over

‘On the desk in the office,’ a voice replies.

‘Come with me, I’ll show you,’ Trevor offers, leading the way across the unit to a small office. Inside, there’s a rickety-looking desk covered in messy stacks of paper and a swivel chair that’s definitely seen better days.

‘It should be here somewhere,’ Trevor tells me, beginning to leaf through one of the stacks. ‘Ah, here we go.’ He pulls out an envelope and hands it to me. On the front, in George’s neat handwriting, is my name.

‘Look,’ Trevor says carefully. ‘I don’t know what’s going on between you and George, and I don’t need to know. What I will say is that I’ve never seen him this upset before, and I’ve known him for a long time. If he’s done something to hurt you, then you must do whatever you need to do, but I just hope, for all our sakes, that this is a misunderstanding.’

‘Don’t worry, he hasn’t done anything wrong,’ I tell him. ‘Which is why I’m struggling to understand why he’s so obviously avoiding me.’

‘Let’s hope that letter will help to clear things up then,’ he replies. ‘Whatever’s happened, I think you can be sure he’s very sorry for his part in it.’

I sigh. ‘Thanks, Trevor.’

‘No worries. Would you like to read it before you go? I can make you a cup of tea or something if you’d like.’

‘No. That’s kind but I think I’ll head off. Thanks anyway.’

‘You’re welcome.’

I don’t want to sit outside the unit reading whatever George has written, so in the end I drive into Tenterden and find a coffee shop. Settling myself at a table with a flat white and a fortifying slice of carrot cake, I pull the envelope out of the bag, open it and start to read the contents.

Dear Thea,

If you’re reading this letter, it means you came to find me. I’m sorry that I’m too much of a coward to face you, but I’m so ashamed of myself that I couldn’t bear to have this conversation face to face.

What I did was wrong. I know that, and I can’t express how sorry I am for losing control of myself when you were vulnerable. Our relationship is a professional one and, despite being attracted to you, I’ve worked hard to make sure I kept within the proper boundaries: My role is to help you with the mill and advise you in line with HIBT guidelines. Whathappened in the barn was unprofessional, unethical and a serious breach of the trust you have put in me, and if you wish to put a complaint in about my behaviour, I would completely understand.

‘Why would I want to put in a complaint, you idiot?’ I murmur out loud. ‘It was me that started it, or have you forgotten that?’

In light of what’s happened, I have asked Charlotte to transfer me onto other projects, as I obviously cannot continue with the mill. I wish you every success with it, and once again I’m truly, truly sorry for such an appalling breach of conduct.

Yours

George

I read the letter several times, picking out different parts each time. The fact that he felt the attraction too ought to buoy me up, but the rest of it just makes me feel sad and cross that he didn’t feel he could talk to me face to face so we could have straightened this out. In many ways, I’m no further forward, but his actions have made it clear that he doesn’t want to see me, so maybe I should just let him go.

I’m in a sombre mood as I walk back to the car, and I nearly miss the ping indicating that I’ve got a new message on my phone. Knowing for certain now that it won’t be George, I almost don’t bother to read it. It’s Alasdair again.

Are you there? Or have you changed phone numbers as well as addresses? Are you in witness protection? Ax

At least talking to Alasdair will take my mind off the mess with George, I suppose. Once I’m in the car, I call him.

‘Thea!’ he answers in his typically enthusiastic voice. ‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen off the end of the earth.’

‘Not quite,’ I tell him.

‘Nine months to the day. I’ve had a countdown set on my phone. How is it out there in the big bad world? More importantly, which bit of the big bad world are you in? I was a bit surprised to find you’d sold your house. You loved that place.’

‘Whoa, slow down,’ I tell him. He is cheering me up at least. ‘I’m not a corporate lawyer any more; I can only handle one question at a time.’

‘Sorry, it’s just that I’ve missed you and I’ve been really looking forward to catching up. Let’s start with where you are, if you’re allowed to tell me.’

‘I’m not in witness protection, so it’s fine. I’m in Kent.’

‘Kent? What’s there?’

‘A long story. Do you remember my friend Rebecca?’

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