Sushi for Beginners
Page 93
The only way she’d felt in control was by keeping him in a state of perpetual insecurity. She’d never felt at ease except in the short period after he’d apologized for something and was behaving with abject devotion. But that was hard work – and had been getting harder. Since he wouldn’t fight with her any more, her only tool was her exotic mystique. And she was worn out being exotic and mysterious.
Too soon they were at her flat. Jack stopped his car outside, actually switched off the engine, instead of keeping it idling. But Mai wasn’t sticking around.
‘Bye,’ she gulped, swinging her legs out of the car.
‘I’ll call you,’ he promised.
‘Don’t.’
With an ache in his stomach, Jack watched her walk away from him, a tough little girl-woman, in her ludicrously high shoes. Scrunching her key into the front door, she let herself in.
She didn’t look back.
40
Coming back from lunch, as Lisa came out of the lift she passed Trix, who was clumping along to the ladies’ to apply yet another layer of make-up.
‘Howya,’ Trix said. ‘There’s some man waiting to see you.’
Some man, Lisa thought irritably. Couldn’t she have found out who he was, and what he wanted?
Natasha, her PA at Femme, would have insisted on knowing a caller’s grandmother’s maiden name before they were permitted an audience with Lisa.
And then it happened.
She turned to pass through the reception area into the office, and sitting on the couch was the last person in the world she expected to see.
Oliver.
She crashed into an invisible wall. Shock turned her inside-out and her ears buzzed with deafness. She’d last seen him on New Year’s Day – it was now the thirteenth of July. All their time apart concertinaed into less than a second.
‘Hey, babes.’ He looked up at her, very comfortable, very at ease.
She began to shake. Several thoughts hit at once. What was she wearing? Did she look good? Thin? Why did he have to come to her work? Did he realize what a small-time, two-bit operation she was heading up?
‘What are you doing here?’ she heard herself enquire.
She couldn’t stop staring, unable to figure out why he was both familiar and a stranger. Her body language was startled and gawky, frozen in the step she’d been taking when she saw him. Belatedly she pulled her legs together and pushed back her shoulders. It took effort.
‘We need to talk.’ He smiled and glinted; his teeth, his earring, his heavy, silver watch-strap. He shifted his ankle from where it was balanced on his opposite knee, and sat up straight. With every movement he bulged with grace.
‘About what?’ she mumbled.
Then he laughed. One of his great big belly-laughs that nearly blew out the windows. ‘About what?’ he exclaimed, grinning without humour. ‘What do you think?’
D-I-V-O-R-C-E…
‘I’m busy, Oliver.’
‘Still knocking yourself out, girl?’
‘I’m at work, Oliver. If you want to talk to me call me at home.’
‘Hey, a number would be nice.’
‘I’ll meet you after work.’ Might as well get this dealt with.
‘Good of you… I’m staying in the Clarence.’
‘That’s a bit flash.’
‘I’m on a shoot.’
For some reason that hurt. ‘So you didn’t really come to see me?’
‘Let’s just call it good timing.’
Trembling, Lisa attempted to work but it was almost impossible to concentrate: she’d forgotten the effect Oliver had on her.
‘Delivery for you!’
Lisa jumped as Trix flung a jiffy-bag on her desk. It was the photos from Saturday’s shoot and Lisa’s instinct had been spot on. They were amazing, but she could hardly focus. It was as though the edges of her vision were damp and grey. All she could think about was Oliver. They’d parted so acrimoniously, with such bitterness. He’d been so nasty. Said such terrible things.
‘Hey Ashling.’ She made a great effort to regain control. ‘Take this photo… no, this one…’ She selected the best picture, a reportage-style shot of Dani looking sulkily beautiful, flanked by Boo and Hairy Dave. ‘Get twenty copies from Niall and send them off to all the major houses. Sticker them, saying “Frieda Kiely Autumn collection. Colleen September issue”… That should cause a stir,’ she muttered, missing completely Ashling’s appalled expression.
Seconds later she became aware that Ashling was still loitering by her desk.
‘What?!’
‘Can we… I think… Boo and Hairy Dave – ’
‘Who?!’
‘The homeless men. In the photo,’ Ashling elaborated when it became clear Lisa had no idea who she was talking about. ‘Can we give them something?’
‘Like?’
‘A present or… something. For being in the photo and making it so good.’
Under normal circumstances Lisa would just have told Ashling to fuck off and get a grip, but she was too distracted.
‘Ask Jack,’ she snapped. ‘I’m busy.’
Clutching the photograph, Ashling nervously knocked on Jack Devine’s door. When he bellowed, ‘Come in,’ she reluctantly entered and cringingly explained her mission. ‘They did it without a word of complaint and they didn’t ask for anything and I just thought we should show some sort of appreciation…’
‘Fine,’ Jack interrupted.
‘Really?’ she asked cautiously. She’d been expecting him to mock her request.
‘Absolutely. They make the picture. What d’you think they’d like?’
‘Somewhere to live,’ she semi-joked.
‘I haven’t got the budget,’ Jack replied. He sounded quite regretful. ‘Any other ideas?’
She thought about it. ‘Money, probably.’
‘Thirty quid each? It’s all I can stretch to, I’m afraid.’
‘Er, fantastic’ It wasn’t much, but it was more than she’d hoped for. At least Boo and Dave would get a couple of hot meals out of it.
‘Here,’ Jack signed a petty cash slip. ‘Give that to Bernard.’
‘Thank you.’
He let his dark eyes rest on her face for two or three long seconds. ‘You’re welcome.’
Too soon they were at her flat. Jack stopped his car outside, actually switched off the engine, instead of keeping it idling. But Mai wasn’t sticking around.
‘Bye,’ she gulped, swinging her legs out of the car.
‘I’ll call you,’ he promised.
‘Don’t.’
With an ache in his stomach, Jack watched her walk away from him, a tough little girl-woman, in her ludicrously high shoes. Scrunching her key into the front door, she let herself in.
She didn’t look back.
40
Coming back from lunch, as Lisa came out of the lift she passed Trix, who was clumping along to the ladies’ to apply yet another layer of make-up.
‘Howya,’ Trix said. ‘There’s some man waiting to see you.’
Some man, Lisa thought irritably. Couldn’t she have found out who he was, and what he wanted?
Natasha, her PA at Femme, would have insisted on knowing a caller’s grandmother’s maiden name before they were permitted an audience with Lisa.
And then it happened.
She turned to pass through the reception area into the office, and sitting on the couch was the last person in the world she expected to see.
Oliver.
She crashed into an invisible wall. Shock turned her inside-out and her ears buzzed with deafness. She’d last seen him on New Year’s Day – it was now the thirteenth of July. All their time apart concertinaed into less than a second.
‘Hey, babes.’ He looked up at her, very comfortable, very at ease.
She began to shake. Several thoughts hit at once. What was she wearing? Did she look good? Thin? Why did he have to come to her work? Did he realize what a small-time, two-bit operation she was heading up?
‘What are you doing here?’ she heard herself enquire.
She couldn’t stop staring, unable to figure out why he was both familiar and a stranger. Her body language was startled and gawky, frozen in the step she’d been taking when she saw him. Belatedly she pulled her legs together and pushed back her shoulders. It took effort.
‘We need to talk.’ He smiled and glinted; his teeth, his earring, his heavy, silver watch-strap. He shifted his ankle from where it was balanced on his opposite knee, and sat up straight. With every movement he bulged with grace.
‘About what?’ she mumbled.
Then he laughed. One of his great big belly-laughs that nearly blew out the windows. ‘About what?’ he exclaimed, grinning without humour. ‘What do you think?’
D-I-V-O-R-C-E…
‘I’m busy, Oliver.’
‘Still knocking yourself out, girl?’
‘I’m at work, Oliver. If you want to talk to me call me at home.’
‘Hey, a number would be nice.’
‘I’ll meet you after work.’ Might as well get this dealt with.
‘Good of you… I’m staying in the Clarence.’
‘That’s a bit flash.’
‘I’m on a shoot.’
For some reason that hurt. ‘So you didn’t really come to see me?’
‘Let’s just call it good timing.’
Trembling, Lisa attempted to work but it was almost impossible to concentrate: she’d forgotten the effect Oliver had on her.
‘Delivery for you!’
Lisa jumped as Trix flung a jiffy-bag on her desk. It was the photos from Saturday’s shoot and Lisa’s instinct had been spot on. They were amazing, but she could hardly focus. It was as though the edges of her vision were damp and grey. All she could think about was Oliver. They’d parted so acrimoniously, with such bitterness. He’d been so nasty. Said such terrible things.
‘Hey Ashling.’ She made a great effort to regain control. ‘Take this photo… no, this one…’ She selected the best picture, a reportage-style shot of Dani looking sulkily beautiful, flanked by Boo and Hairy Dave. ‘Get twenty copies from Niall and send them off to all the major houses. Sticker them, saying “Frieda Kiely Autumn collection. Colleen September issue”… That should cause a stir,’ she muttered, missing completely Ashling’s appalled expression.
Seconds later she became aware that Ashling was still loitering by her desk.
‘What?!’
‘Can we… I think… Boo and Hairy Dave – ’
‘Who?!’
‘The homeless men. In the photo,’ Ashling elaborated when it became clear Lisa had no idea who she was talking about. ‘Can we give them something?’
‘Like?’
‘A present or… something. For being in the photo and making it so good.’
Under normal circumstances Lisa would just have told Ashling to fuck off and get a grip, but she was too distracted.
‘Ask Jack,’ she snapped. ‘I’m busy.’
Clutching the photograph, Ashling nervously knocked on Jack Devine’s door. When he bellowed, ‘Come in,’ she reluctantly entered and cringingly explained her mission. ‘They did it without a word of complaint and they didn’t ask for anything and I just thought we should show some sort of appreciation…’
‘Fine,’ Jack interrupted.
‘Really?’ she asked cautiously. She’d been expecting him to mock her request.
‘Absolutely. They make the picture. What d’you think they’d like?’
‘Somewhere to live,’ she semi-joked.
‘I haven’t got the budget,’ Jack replied. He sounded quite regretful. ‘Any other ideas?’
She thought about it. ‘Money, probably.’
‘Thirty quid each? It’s all I can stretch to, I’m afraid.’
‘Er, fantastic’ It wasn’t much, but it was more than she’d hoped for. At least Boo and Dave would get a couple of hot meals out of it.
‘Here,’ Jack signed a petty cash slip. ‘Give that to Bernard.’
‘Thank you.’
He let his dark eyes rest on her face for two or three long seconds. ‘You’re welcome.’
