The Return of Mrs Jones. Jessica Gilmore

had to salvage pride from somewhere.

      She was considering her reply when a shadow fell across the table. Glancing up, she saw a stern-looking Jonas standing there, a frown marring the handsome face. An unexpected flutter pulled at Lawrie’s stomach, one she’d thought long dead, and she took a hurried gulp of her coffee, avoiding both his eye and Fliss’s sudden speculative gleam.

      ‘I thought you were off to see Suzy?’ His attention was all on Fliss.

      ‘I am,’ Fliss protested. ‘But I have just had a brainwave. How about Lawrie?’

      Lawrie’s grip tightened on her cup. She could feel her cheeks heating up.

      ‘How about Lawrie, what?’ Jonas asked impatiently.

      It was odd, being back with the two of them and yet apart, now an outsider. Lawrie took a deep breath and leant back in her chair, affecting a confidence she was far from feeling.

      ‘For Wave Fest, of course. No—listen,’ Fliss said, jumping to her feet and grabbing Jonas’s arm as he turned dismissively away. ‘She’s on gardening leave for the rest of the summer.’

      ‘Gardening what?’ He stopped and looked back at the table, catching Lawrie’s eye, a sudden glint of a humour in the stern blue eyes.

      She knew exactly what he was thinking—knew that he was remembering her ability to kill every plant with a mixture of forgetful indifference and remorseful over-watering.

      ‘Is this some sort of corporate environmental thing? Time to learn how to garden?’

      ‘No, it’s a set period time to serve out your notice away from the office,’ Lawrie said, her own eyes warming in response to his and her pulse speeding up as his amused gaze continued to bore into her. ‘I’m on paid leave until the end of September.’

      ‘And she’s planning to stay in Cornwall most of that time,’ Fliss interjected.

      ‘Well, yes. I am. But I’m arranging my next move. I’ll be travelling back and forth to London a lot—possibly overseas. What’s Wave Fest, anyway?’

      ‘Oh, Lawrie, you remember the festival Jonas and I started, don’t you?’

      ‘Actually, Fliss, Lawrie was never at Wave Fest. She was on work placements for the first two.’

      The humour had left Jonas’s face. It was as if the sun had unexpectedly disappeared behind a cloud. He didn’t say the words she knew he was thinking. She had left before the third.

      ‘I know we’re desperate, but Lawrie’s a solicitor, not a project manager—and she knows nothing about festivals.’

      ‘But we need someone organised who can get things done and she can do that all right. Plus, she’s here and she’s available.’

      ‘Fliss, you said yourself that at this time of year organising Wave Fest is a full-time job. If Lawrie’s got to sort out a move—’ the sharp blue eyes regarded Lawrie for an intent moment before flicking away ‘—she won’t be able to dedicate the time we need to it.’

      ‘Yes, for me it would be full time, because I have a neglected husband and the work of three people to do anyway, but Lawrie’s used to city hours—this will be a relaxing break for her!’

      It was almost amusing, listening to them bicker over her as if she wasn’t there. Lawrie took another sip of her coffee, letting the words wash over her. After the shock of the last week it felt nice to be wanted, even if it was for a small-time job she had no intention of doing.

      Suddenly she was aware of an extended silence and looked up to find two pairs of eyes fixed on her expectantly.

      ‘What?’

      ‘I was just asking why you are on leave?’ Jonas said, with the exaggerated patience of somebody who had asked a question several times already. ‘If “gardening leave” means you’re serving out your notice then you must be leaving your firm—why?’

      The all too familiar sense of panic rose up inside her, filling her chest with an aching, squeezing tension. None of this was real. It was some kind of terrible dream and she would soon wake up and find Hugo snoring beside her and her pressed suit hung on the wardrobe door opposite, ready for another day at work, doing a job she was darned good at.

      ‘I felt like a change,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘They were offering good severance deals and I thought, what with turning thirty and everything, that this could be a good opportunity for a new start. After all, it seems silly to specialise in international law and never spend time abroad. I have lots of contacts in New York, so that seems like the logical choice.’

      She had repeated the words so often to herself that she almost believed them now.

      ‘That sounds amazing,’ breathed Fliss, but Jonas looked more sceptical.

      ‘You deviated from that all-important ten-point plan? Wasn’t thirty the year you should have made partner?’

      He remembered the plan. Of course he remembered it—she had gone over it with him enough, been teased about it enough. ‘Lawrie needs to make a plan before we go out for a walk,’ he used to tell people.

      She took a deep breath and forced a casual tone into her voice. ‘People change, Jonas. I followed the plan for long enough, and it was very successful, but I decided that now I’m single again it might be time to see something of the world and enhance my career at the same time. It’s no big deal.’

      He raised an eyebrow but didn’t pursue the point.

      ‘But you won’t be able to start your new job until after September so you are free to help out with Wave Fest.’ Fliss wasn’t giving up.

      ‘Fliss, Lawrie isn’t interested in the festival; she has a job to find. Plus, if she’s still being paid by her firm then she won’t be able to work for us—will you?’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘It’s not law, so it’s not a conflict of interest, but I don’t think I can take paid work whilst on gardening leave. I’ll have to check the contract, but it would be unusual if it was allowed.’

      ‘Volunteer! We could pay your expenses and it would look great on your CV, using your time to help out with a charity event. Come on, Lawrie. It’s total serendipity, you being here just when we need you. You can’t argue with fate!’

      ‘Fliss!’

      Jonas was sounding annoyed, but the word ‘volunteer’ had struck a chord with Lawrie. She tuned the pair out.

      She liked to keep busy, and the thought of spending the forseeable future with nothing to do but job-hunt terrified her. Besides, her CV was already with the best recruiters in the business, so there was little she could do until they got in touch. Most importantly she had been racking her brains, searching for a likely explanation for her sudden departure from Forrest, Gable & Garner that prospective employers would find acceptable—laudable, even. If she could tell them that she’d taken the opportunity of severance to help out with a charity festival surely that would stand her in good stead? Every company liked a bit of free CSR in these straitened times.

      Okay, it wasn’t part of the ten-point plan, but which part of the last few weeks had been? Not finding Hugo labouring over his naked secretary, not watching the senior partners close ranks as they took his side and forced her out with a nice settlement and a good reference for keeping her mouth shut.

      She had returned to Trengarth to lick her wounds, to regroup. Why not wring something positive out of her situation?

      ‘Please?’ Fliss looked pleading. ‘Come on, Lawrie, you’ll be perfect.’

      ‘I’ll do it.’ The words left her mouth before she knew exactly what she was going to say.

      Fliss squealed and flung her arms around Lawrie, but Jonas took a step back, his mouth tight, his eyes unreadable.

      What