‘He was sacked?’
‘Yes … haven’t you seen him today? Didn’t he tell you?’
‘Oh, I’ve seen him. He turned up late for Mum and Dad’s celebration, brought nothing for them and spun a rubbish story about an amicable departure from WIV. I knew he was lying. Mutual parting of the ways, ha!’
‘Perhaps he was trying to save face,’ Kate suggested. ‘I’ve never seen George so angry. He said some dreadful things to Xander.’
Lexie turned to the kettle and muttered, ‘Good for George.’ She knew there’d been a reason she liked him.
‘Samantha’s her name,’ Kate continued. ‘Perhaps you met her at last year’s Christmas party?’
‘No. Don’t think so.’ Lexie remembered how she was invited to accompany Xander when Kate had to cry off because of a family crisis. She’d thought it strange. Why couldn’t Xander go on his own or take an ex? There were enough of them eager to take up with him again, but she’d done her sisterly duty, and it had been quite a good party.
Kate sniffed. ‘You’d think she’d know better, wouldn’t you? Half her mail is from women asking what to do when their man goes off with someone else. And she knows I’ve been dating Xander ever since he joined WIV last year.’ Struggling to hold back a sob, Kate couldn’t prevent more tears from toppling down her cheeks.
Lexie handed her a box of tissues.
‘Thank you.’ Kate took a tissue, and through a weak half-smile, she continued, ‘It was Friday. After lunch, when everything went really wrong. When the new writer arrived. George was late back from lunch, and I had nothing to do. Nothing to distract me from watching Xander. He’d been offhand with me that morning.’
‘That’s why you wanted us to meet for lunch?’
Kate nodded. ‘Xander had been ignoring me most of the morning, and when I spoke to him, it was like he couldn’t be bothered to give me a proper answer. He was freezing me out, and I was wondering what I’d done wrong.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this when we met?’
‘I was going to, I wanted to ask your advice, but then it seemed disloyal.’
‘Oh, Kate.’ Lexie shook her head at Kate, then picked up the kettle.
‘When I got back from lunch, Xander was with that women in the general office, behaving like no one else in the world existed for either of them. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Right in front of me.’
‘Bastard!’ Lexie muttered and poured boiling water on the tea bags.
‘He stopped short of a full-on snog, but his hands were all over her. Just feet from my desk. Like he was trying to tell me, “I don’t want you anymore, Kate Fitzgerald. This is who I want. So, you’re dumped – yesterday’s girl.”
‘I’m sorry, Kate. My brother’s a pig.’
‘I know.’ Kate sniffed. ‘Not long after I started dating Xander, I was stopped in the street by a girl he’d known before me. She told me what he’s like. So, I’ve known all along, but I hoped it was different with me. But on Friday, he proved it wasn’t.’
‘Who was the girl?’
‘Don’t know. She didn’t tell me her name. But she wasn’t the only one to warn me. Early on, George said he knew Xander’s type, and it wouldn’t be long before he’d get bored.’
‘It was nearly a year,’ Lexie said, hoping that might cheer Kate a bit, and passed her a cup of hot, well-brewed, sickly sweet tea.
Kate sipped the tea, wincing at its strength. ‘I had to make coffee for the new writer,’ she said, her face brightening for a second. ‘I liked him almost instantly. Bit of an enigma, but so good looking. Sort of Heathcliff-Rochester type – dark and brooding. You’d like him too. According to Victor, he’s a star – or used to be. Victor’s got one hell of a man-crush on him.’
Intrigued by the description of the new writer, Lexie wondered if she should ask why he was an enigma or why Kate thought she’d like him, but thought maybe this wasn’t the right time.
Kate went on: ‘Anyway, I took the tray into George’s office, and afterwards, when I was sure I wasn’t needed for anything else, I went to the kitchen to refill the coffee machine. I thought the writer might want some more, given the state of him.’
‘State?’ Lexie couldn’t resist asking because somehow, the new writer, enigma or not, seemed more and more relevant, even though he had no obvious connection to what had happened.
‘He was drunk,’ Kate replied gravely. ‘Very drunk.’
Lexie sipped her tea, wondering why Kate should think she might like a drunk but didn’t query it. She had a feeling the story was coming to a climax, and maybe the drunk in George’s office had just been a brief diversion – Kate’s delaying tactic to put off what she least wanted to say.
‘That was what I was doing in the kitchen when I heard a noise.’ Kate’s voice trembled. She stared straight ahead, shivering, reliving the moment. ‘I heard groaning and thumping noises in the stationery cupboard. I should have ignored it. I shouldn’t have checked. If I’d had half my brain switched on, I would have recognised the sounds. But I didn’t. I thought someone might have got trapped or taken ill.’ She stopped and looked at Lexie as if she hoped for a telepathic transfer to save her from saying the words.