Page 15 of Hooked On The One That Got Away
‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘A week ...’
Then she said, ‘Charlie, will you be okay?’
It was less of a question than a plea for reassurance. She’d never seen him so unhappy. And a week seemed like anageaway.
Her question took Charlie by surprise. ‘Yes, I’ll be okay,’ he told her. ‘I’m – glad you care. Amazed, actually,’ he added, with a wry twist to his mouth. ‘It’swaymore than I deserve.’
Willow picked up the swim buoy. She loathed it but it did contain her phone and car keys. Charlie watched her strap it round her waist again. Willow half-expected another joke but he was silent. She had nothing more to say, either, so she started to walk away. As she did, she happened to notice the lovelock thecouple had fastened. It was heart-shaped, and Willow felt her own heart squeeze. But she kept on.
When she reached the end of the bridge, she heard Charlie call her name. Half-reluctant, half-eager, she turned around.
‘And youarestrong enough,’ she heard him say. ‘You’re the strongest person I know.’
Willow’s breath caught in her throat.Was that true?
She couldn’t dwell on it. Not now. Willow hurried back down the towpath to where it was safe to enter the water, and without a single glance back at the bridge, dived in and swam away.
Chapter Eleven
Willow found herself at her desk with no clear idea how she’d got there. The moments between leaving Charlie on the overbridge and saying hello to her colleagues were a blur. The only thing she knew for certain was that she could still feel the heat of Charlie’s kiss and the press of his hard body against hers. And she couldn’t decide whether it was the best or the worst feeling ever.
Definitely on the “worst” side was the still-present worry. Charlie had assured her he’d be okay, so she’d have to trust that he wouldn’t lie to her. Not again. Not after everything he’d promised on the bridge. Even thoughnothinghe’d said made any sense. Willow had turned every word of Charlie’s over and over in her mind, but she was no clearer. What was he keeping from her? And why?
In a week, he’d explain everything. Willow had no idea what he’d have to tell her then. Right now, she knew that the hurt was still too raw and her desire for him stillwaytoo present for her to make good decisions. All the more reason to keep her distance, to give herself time to emotionally prepare.
Besides, there were fifteen emails she needed to answer, so her actual paid work had better be her focus until it was time to go home.
Four emails down and Willow’s phone pinged. A text. From Harvey. Unlike him. He’d been known to request meetings by leaving a handwritten note at reception.
Willow squinted at the text. It appeared to be written in code. Either that or Harvey had very fat fingers. The message was ‘82nitecu@fat’. Another text immediately followed in all caps ‘DELETETHIS!’. And another ‘&THIS!’
There was a filter coffee maker in the small office kitchen. The coffee was delicious or revolting depending on how long it had been sitting in the pot. Luckily for Willow the pot was full. A fresh brew. She poured a mug and sipped it gratefully, feeling her brain gradually unscramble.
She stared at ‘82nitecu@fat’ and her now functioning brain decided it meant that Harvey wanted to meet her at eight o’clock tonight at the Fat Badger, the pub that was now a double Michelin-starred restaurant. Willow hoped Harvey wanted to meet her only for a drinkandthat he was paying. Even walking past the Fat Badger’s door could make her feel poorer.
Willow texted back a thumbs up emoji, and then ‘Have deleted all’ because she knew Harvey would be sweating. And then, because she was suddenly curious, sat back down at her computer and searched under ‘environmental activists UK’.
What came up first was the international group, Extinction Rebellion, but Willow could see from the images that they made a point of beingextremelyvisible. Next came Greenpeace. Again, not exactly clandestine. Then Greta Thunberg and David Attenborough, who were probably recognisable from space. Scrolling down the remainder of the results, nothing jumped out at Willow. But, if they were as secretive as Harvey had claimed, then that wasn’t so surprising. Maybe, just maybe, Harvey wanted to meet because hehadmanaged to gain her access? A prospect Willow found equal parts exciting and bloody terrifying.
She considered calling Maeve and blurting out everything that had happened to her that morning and possibly begging her to provide moral support at the Fat Badger. Then Charlie’s words came back to her,You’re the strongest person I know. And a part of Willow was suddenly determined to prove him right.
The Fat Badger was only a ten-minute walk from Willow’s house, and she would have been ready to leave in plenty of time if she hadn’t had a sudden attack of wardrobe nerves. The Fat Badger wasfancy. Willow knew Harvey would be wearing his usual tweedy Victorian-style attire, but posh people could wear rags and still look stylish. She, however, couldnotget away with jeans and a twenty-quid sweatshirt from TK-Maxx.
Over the course of an hour, Willow pulled out every single item in her wardrobe and ended up with a pile on her bed and still nothing to wear. The only outfit that came close was a dress and strappy sandals she’d bought for a special dinner with Charlie. The five-year anniversary of their relationship, as it happened. Charlie had joked that they should spend itunderthe restaurant table for old times’ sake, but they’d behaved themselves and had – a wonderful evening, Willow recalled. Full of laughs and affection, and excitement for the future. Charlie, in particular, was fizzing about setting up on his own, working with start-ups and not-for-profits who were making, as he put it, ‘Real change in the world’. He’d had a mad idea that he could even be a not-for-profit law firm himself, taking pro-bono cases that would be funded by donations. How he’d pull this off he freely admitted he had no clue, but Willow had seen the gleam inhis eye, and knew he’d find a way. But then, barely two months’ later, he left. And all Willow’s hopes for the future left with him.
She picked the dress up off the bed and held it against her, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. It hadn’t been expensive, but it was a flattering cut, straight with a boat neck, and the colour, a pretty coral pink, suited her. Charlie had removed it that night in some haste and she’d never worn it again …
Willow checked the time.Dammit!7.45pm!On went the coral-pink dress and the strappy gold sandals. A quick brush of her hair and a smudge of lip-gloss and Willow hurried out the door and up the road to the Fat Badger.
The place evensmelledexpensive, Willow thought, as she pushed open the heavy wooden front door. The young woman who greeted her looked like she’d just stepped out of plastic packaging, so perfect were her makeup and hair. Willow remembered what Maeve had said to her once, before they were about to present to a particularly demanding client of the advertising agency: ‘It’s all in the posture. Shoulders back, head up – pretend you’re Wonder Woman about to swing the Lasso of Truth.’
Willow squared her shoulders and said, ‘I’m here to meet–’
‘Me!’ Harvey bustled up. He’d obviously been keeping an anxious eye out for her.
‘I’ll bring you a menu,’ the young woman told Willow.
‘No, no!’ said Harvey, hastily. ‘We’re all sorted, thank you.’
