Page 99 of Falling for You
‘No. I message her, though!’ Stevie says defensively.
‘I get it,’ I say quickly, not wanting to start any kind of fight. ‘It’s hard. Actually, it’s worse than hard. It’s fucking shit. It’s all shit. But I need you.’ I move onto the sofa next to him, putting my arm around his shoulder. His head flops onto my chest, just like he used to do with Mom when he was a child.
‘I’m sorry, Nate,’ he says quietly. ‘I don’t think I can do it.’
‘I’ll help you,’ I say. ‘We’ll do it together.’
And for the next hour, with only the noise of the television and the odd screeching siren, we sit there together, hugging, for the first time since we were kids.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Annie
I crash into the office, snatching the tail of my scarf behind me before it gets trapped in the lift. I’ve run from a client meeting, where I showed them a couple of private schools, and raced back here so I could check my emails and say hello to Pam before the fabric shop closed.
I spent the rest of Sunday crying with Tanya and Penny. We sat and chatted, drank all the wine and then all the tea, ate all the chocolate and devoured Penny’s huge, delicious stew. But then I got up on Monday morning and decided that I wasn’t going to let Nate ruin another day. He’d already spent the majority of the week before circling around my head, while I was desperately wondering why he’d sent me such a weird message, then he crashed a weekend with my parentsandruined an entire Sunday. So, no more. He was not allowed to come with me into this week.
‘Hello!’ I call, walking through the office. To my surprise, Pam isn’t hunched over her laptop like she normally is. I drop my bag, frowning. That’s odd – normally, I barely see her move from that space.
‘Pam?’ I call. She’s in the kitchen and jumps when she sees me.
‘Are you making a cup of tea?’ I say. ‘You never get up to make a cup of tea! I haven’t been gone that long, have I?’
I grin, pulling a mug down and placing it next to hers, but she doesn’t return my smile, just looks at me with a weird, glazed expression.
‘Are you all right?’ I ask. ‘Have you been staring at your laptop for too long? Shall I take you outside for some fresh air?’
I’m teasing her, but the weird, glazed expression doesn’t shift.
‘Annie,’ she says eventually. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ I reply at once. ‘Are you?’
She nods. ‘I’m good. Rodney and I spent the weekend going through things – the business, and the idea of travelling.’
I smile, leaning on the counter, ready for her to start her weekly rant about how Rodney wants to travel the world and she can’t leave the business. But she doesn’t.
‘I think we’re going to do it,’ she says, giving me a small smile. ‘We’re not getting any younger, and I do work too much … and I love Rodney, I want to do this with him.’
Joy spreads through my chest and I throw my arms around Pam’s neck.
‘Pam!’ I cry. ‘That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! Although,’ I add, letting her go, ‘I don’t know how I’ll survive without you for a year.’
She laughs. ‘I think you’ll be great.’ I smile, flicking onthe coffee machine. ‘And actually, Annie …’ she continues. ‘That’s something I want to talk to you about.’
I turn back to face her. ‘Yeah?’
‘Well, the plan is for us to be gone for a year … but I’m going to need someone to take my place while I’m away. And I want to make sure that the right person is here to run it.’
I look at her, my stomach flipping.
Is she about to …
‘I’d like you to be the acting CEO.’
I run my fingers along the waterfall of fabric. Satins of pearly pink; deep purple; glistening, royal gold. I want to scoop them all up under my arm and take them. Make a dress out of all of them, make a hundred dresses and skirts and jackets.
I always find myself here when I’m stressed. When I moved to London ten years ago, I flitted between fabric shops like a student on a pub crawl, but I ended up gravitating towards this one. When I was a teenager and had just started to make my own clothes, I’d wander into town after school and spend twenty minutes or so admiring each piece in the local fabric shop. Pulling it between my fingers or seeing how it would fall if I wrapped it around my arm. Sometimes Mum would call me and then meet me there. We’d pick a fabric out together and take it home to add to our collection. Our spare bedroom turned into an Aladdin’s cave. I loved it.
