Page 65 of The First Mistake

‘That’s not going to work,’ he said. ‘It’s Sod’s Law. Any other day would be fine, but I need to be at the airport by five thirty in the morning.’

I turned in my chair. ‘The airport? You didn’t tell me you were going anywhere.’ I could hear the accusatory tone in my voice and flinched. He didn’t owe me anything.

‘What ...? Yes, I did. I told you I was going to Spain for a couple of days.’

Suddenly, it wasn’t about himgoing, but him nottellingme he was going.

‘When?’ I asked, knowing full well he’d not said a word.

‘The other night, after the burglary. I told you I was going to Spain to meet an investor who had some vintage rioja to sell.’

If he’d have said any other time, I would have believed him. But after the burglary I was feeling particularly vulnerable, and if he’d told me he was going away, I’m sure I would have remembered – nervous at the thought.

‘You didn’t,’ I said. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of it.’

He laughed. ‘I definitely told you. You said that it was a shame that we weren’t away at the same time. Anyway, what’s the biggie?’

‘There is no “biggie”,’ I said, putting the word in speech marks. ‘You just didn’t tell me, that’s all.’

‘Well, I’m sorry if you don’t remember, but I’m telling you again now. I’m going to Spain tomorrow and am back on Wednesday.’

‘Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,’ I said, my voice rising. ‘I don’t care that you’re going away. You candowhatever you want,gowherever you want, withwhoeveryou want to go with, but don’t tell me I already knew something when I didn’t.’

‘Jeez, why are you getting so stressed out about it? Is it because you haven’t been to my place yet?’

‘It’s got nothing to do with that,’ I said, though I had to admit, it didn’t help. He’d come to my flat over a dozen times, we’d been to London probably the same again, yet his place, which was allegedly just west of town, had somehow managed to elude us.

‘Listen, when I get back from Spain, I’ll do dinner at mine,’ he said, sounding conciliatory. ‘Wouldthatmake you happy?’

‘Don’t you dare patronize me,’ I screeched, incensed. ‘Making out as if you’re doing me a favour.’

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ he said, pulling up outside my flat and turning the engine off.

‘Don’t bother getting out,’ I yelled as I retrieved Tyson from the boot. ‘You’d better get off home for your beauty sleep.’

‘Are you being serious?’ he asked incredulously, through the open window. ‘You’re honestly going to leave it like this?’

‘Have a nice trip,’ I said, without looking back.

24

When ‘Hot Guy’ flashed up continually throughout my lunch hour the next day, I had to turn my phone over.

‘Problem?’ asked Maria through a mouthful of ham sandwich.

‘Not really,’ I said tartly, unable to keep the vitriol I felt from spilling out.

‘I can’t believe you’ve still got him stored as “Hot Guy” on your phone,’ she laughed, in an attempt to defuse the atmosphere. ‘Does he know?’

I shrugged and felt tension creeping up from the base of my neck. ‘I’m seriously thinking of renaming him Dickhead.’

‘Uh-oh,’ she sang. ‘Trouble in paradise. Is this your first lovers’ tiff? What did he do?’

‘We rowed about going to his place,’ I said. ‘He made something so simple so complicated.’

‘Aboutgoingto his place, ornotgoing?’ she asked.

‘I wanted to go, but he said it wasn’t convenient.’ Even as I was saying it, it sounded immature. ‘So when we got back to mine, I forbade him to come in.’

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