Название | The One |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Maria Realf |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008278977 |
‘No, thanks,’ said Lizzie. ‘I think I’m alright for the moment.’
‘How about tea, then? Or some water? It’s good to stay hydrated in the office.’
‘Actually, Phoebe, I’d love a drink,’ piped up Naomi, who ran the company’s website. Blunt, ballsy and prone to bouts of swearing, she was by far Lizzie’s favourite person on the entire team, even if she did insist on having the radio turned up distractingly loud while she worked.
‘Of course!’ The youngster scurried over to the next desk, looking thrilled to be making herself useful. ‘What can I get you? Tea? Coffee?’
‘Do we have any fruit smoothies?’ asked Naomi sweetly. ‘Maybe banana and mango? Or some mixed berries? I’m doing a juice cleanse at the moment, you see.’
Really? If she was, it was the first Lizzie had heard of it, and Naomi didn’t usually keep much to herself.
‘Oh, er …’ Phoebe’s smile faltered. ‘I’m not sure we’ve got anything like that in the kitchen.’ Then she perked back up again. ‘Ooh, the café round the corner might have some, though. Do you want me to run down and see?’
‘Would you mind? Thanks so much.’ Naomi reached into her wallet and pulled out a crumpled tenner. ‘I’d prefer freshly blended anyway. Why don’t you grab yourself one, too, if you’re going to the trouble of walking round there?’
Phoebe beamed, like she’d just been tasked with an important assignment for the Queen. ‘That’s really nice of you. I’ll be back as soon as possible.’
‘No rush, take your time,’ said Naomi, watching her go as she trotted off towards the lifts, her auburn hair swinging like a shiny conker.
‘I didn’t know you were into juicing now,’ said Lizzie. ‘How long’s that been going on?’
‘Since about five minutes ago. She’s doing my head in this morning, all that flapping about. I reckon it’ll buy us a good ten minutes of peace.’
‘You’re mean!’ smiled Lizzie. ‘She’s harmless. Remember what it’s like when you start a new job and just want to impress people?’
‘Not really,’ said Naomi drily. She liked to give the impression that she couldn’t care less what anyone thought, but Lizzie knew there was a sensitive core beneath her spiky exterior. ‘Anyway, it’s alright for you. Don’t you have some sort of extended holiday coming up?’
‘If you’re referring to my honeymoon, then yes – yes I do.’ Lizzie couldn’t even try to hide the huge grin that broke out across her face.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Not sure yet.’ That was another thing they still had to finalise, largely because they couldn’t agree on a destination. Josh wanted to go somewhere far-flung and exotic, but Lizzie wasn’t sure if she could cope with a long flight. Even just the thought of it made her palms grow clammy. ‘We’re still deciding.’
‘How long are you off for?’
‘With the wedding as well? Nearly three weeks.’
‘Lucky cow.’ Naomi shook her head enviously. ‘I’d marry psycho Mel for three weeks away.’ Mel was Naomi’s on-off girlfriend. It was easy to keep track of their relationship status, because whenever it was off she always prefixed Mel’s name with ‘evil’ or ‘psycho’.
‘Sorry,’ Lizzie smiled. ‘I’ll miss you, if it helps.’
‘Yeah, well … you’d better bring me back something really good. And some duty-free fags.’
‘I’m not getting you those. I thought you were meant to be quitting?’
Naomi pulled a face. ‘Whatever,’ she said, cranking up her radio another few decibels. ‘Anyway, stop distracting me with all this talk about holidays. I need to upload this before Her Perkiness gets back.’
‘Fine by me.’ Lizzie glanced over at the laminated calendar on the beige wall to her right, counting with glee that there were only 51 working days to go before she could escape. She was desperate for a proper break. While other brides-to-be seemed to enjoy every second of wedding planning, Lizzie was finding the whole thing so stressful that she’d started waking up at 3am, her mind whirring so loudly she was sure it would disturb Josh.
‘Do you think it’s got anything to do with … you know who?’ Megan had asked last week, when Lizzie complained that she was having trouble sleeping.
‘What, Alex? What makes you say that?’
‘Well, you seemed kind of upset when I mentioned it at the dress shop.’ Megan pursed her lips. ‘I know you said you don’t care, but I just wanted to check you were OK about all that.’
‘About what? That he upped and left? Or that he’s back right before my wedding?’
‘Ah,’ said Megan, looking uncomfortable. ‘Do you wish I hadn’t told you?’
‘No, I’m glad you did,’ sighed Lizzie. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I guess I’m still a little freaked out. I just wasn’t expecting him to come home after this long.’
‘Look, I get it. I was pretty shocked myself when I heard. And I’m not the one who was madly in love with him.’
‘I’m not sure I was madly in love with him …’ replied Lizzie. Even as she started to protest, she knew it was a lie. ‘I mean, I thought I was at the time – but if our relationship was so great it wouldn’t have ended that badly, would it?’ She could still feel the hurt in her bones, all these years later, like a fracture that had never fully healed. Don’t think about it, she told herself. Josh would never leave you like that.
‘Guess not. I was worried about you back then. You were in a right state.’
‘Don’t remind me.’ The first few months after Alex disappeared had been, without doubt, the most miserable of Lizzie’s life. After the tears and the anger and the guilt subsided, all that was left was a strange nothingness, which in many ways was worse. It had taken the best part of two years for her to feel halfway human again. ‘I must have been a nightmare to live with. I’m so embarrassed.’
‘Stop beating yourself up,’ said Megan. ‘That was a rough time, especially after what happened with—’
‘Please, let’s not go there,’ said Lizzie. She wasn’t ready for a maudlin trip down memory lane, not even with the one person whose turbulent relationship with Alex almost rivalled her own. During university, he’d become one of Megan’s closest friends, the surrogate big brother she’d always wanted. But when it all came crashing down – with Lizzie’s heart among the wreckage – he’d been rebranded as public enemy number one.
By now, news of his return had prompted much gossip among their old crowd, but Lizzie still didn’t know why he was back in the country, or for how long. She found herself wondering whether everything was alright with his family, the not-quite-in-laws she’d once been so fond of.
I hope they’re OK. As if they haven’t been through enough already.
Her musings were cut short by the portly man from the post room, who thrust a huge bouquet of flowers under her nose. ‘Special delivery for you, Miss Sparkes,’ he said, his short fingers gripping the stems tightly.
‘Thanks, Bob. I didn’t know you cared,’ she joked. The arrangement was amazing: large white lilies mixed with yellow tulips and orange gerberas, the citrus shades standing out against the foliage like miniature suns. Their fresh scent reminded her