Page 52 of The Price of Love
‘Nah, gotta have been in the fall. I remember him talking about you on Thanksgiving, when he flew over.’
My heart felt uncomfortably too large for my chest. ‘Right. Yes, sorry my mistake. Fall, autumn, yes.’ My mouth was dry and my tongue stuck to my teeth. ‘Um, James, can I ask you, when he talks about me, what does Luke call me?’ I manufactured a deathly chuckle. ‘Only we’re having a bit of an argument about him using my nickname instead of my real name. Nicknames are all very well between us, but he will keep—’
‘Oh, right. Yeah, I guess Dee-Dee does come over a bit childish.’
‘Dee-Dee.’ I sounded hoarse. ‘Yes. I wish he’d use my proper name.’
‘D’you know, I don’t know if I’ve ever heard it?’ James sounded distracted now. ‘Look, it’s been great shooting the breeze with you, but I’ve gotta get moving, I’m at work and . . .’
‘Work. Yes.’ My lips were scything against my teeth as my chin trembled. ‘How is business at Sampsons these days?’
A half-embarrassed chortle. ‘Sorry, I must be missing something? Company I work for, they’re called Pearson Brothers. Pearson Brothers Electrical, we do components for hot air driers.’
I put the phone down while he was still explaining the tricky nature of hand-drier manufacture. Very, very carefullyand softly, as though this was snow country in avalanche season. ‘Well,’ I said, surprised that my voice still worked, ‘at least I know there really is another girlfriend now.’ It was my own stupidity that was overwhelming me, rising to my nose, my eyes, until I thought I might drown in it. Stupidity and humiliation. I was so full of it, there wasn’t even room for tears. ‘I’m going to the loo.’
‘You’re not going to do anything stupid.’ Katie watched me with anxious eyes.
‘What, you mean more stupid than I’ve already done? I don’t think that’s possible. And anyway, in thetoilet? I do have some dignity left.’ I went into the women’s cloakroom and surrendered most of my dignity to a snotty weep.
When I came back into the office, Neil and Clive, bless them, were handling my workload and Katie was waiting with an avenging angel face on. ‘Right. Time to talk. Clive, Neil, hold the fort.’
‘Rightcha are love.’ Uncomplainingly they went back to thumping my keyboard and frowning into my telephone.
‘They’ll probably produce the works of Shakespeare while we’re gone.’ My voice was tremblingly close to hysteria.
‘Those two wouldn’t recognise Shakespeare if he had a walk-on inEastEnders.’ Katie hustled me out of the office and down the road to the Grape and Sprout, where Jazz was keeping a bottle of vodka company at a corner table. The two of them pressed me into a seat and Jazz poured me a drink. I noticed his hand was shaking.
‘I . . .’ I began, but Katie shook her head.
‘We’re just waiting for the others.’
Others?‘Are you okay, Jazz?’ I asked. He looked different today, less, well, less. No platform-soled boots for a start, and no enormous black coat. It was as though someone had taken him and whittled.
‘I, Willow,’ he pronounced so carefully that I wondered if he was already drunk, ‘amincrediblyokay.’
He’d shaved off the goatee, too, and there was a thin, pale line around his face where it had been protecting his skin from the sun. Katie caught sight of this and began to giggle.
‘You look like you’re being haunted by your own beard.’
‘I’ve turned over a new leaf. No more dark Goth. I am cleaning up my act.’
Katie and I looked at each other dubiously. ‘Last time you said that, it was because you’d found the Church,’ she reminded him. ‘I hope we’re not going to have any ofthatkind of thing again. It took me ages to get the smell out of the curtains after you’d practiced with the incense.’
‘Yeah, but on the plus side I’ve got a great outfit. I’m just waiting for the first Tarts and Vicars of the season.’
Jazz had taken the Church as seriously as he took everything else, i.e., extremely, for a week. It was the celibacy that got him in the end.
‘Who’re we waiting for?’ I asked as another tiny ripple of miserable self-pity rolled its way onto my shores.
‘I asked . . . oh, here they are. Over here, guys.’
To my slightly startled horror, Ash and Cal came through the doors, laughing together as though there had never been an awkward moment between them. ‘Oh God,Katie! I thought we were going to have a consoling drink and you two were going to tell me what an idiot I am.’
‘Yeah, and then you were going to go right out, rationalise everything, and carry on as if nothing had ever happened, weren’t you?’
‘No. Well, yes, probably. But still, why did you ring those two?’
‘Ash is really good in a relationship crisis. He tells it as it is, cuts the crap,’ Jazz said, pouring two more drinks for the newcomers as they made their way over.
