look at him, he hunches back over his computer.
?So Vanessa is a sneering bitch??
I realize David is chuckling. How dare he not take this seriously.
?It?s not Vanessa I?m cross with,? I lie. ?I?m sure she?s perfectly nice. But you . . . you wouldn?t even introduce me as your girlfriend. How do you think that made me feel??
?Georgie, my darling, I?m really sorry. Vanessa is working with me on a particular case. She had to work on her own on Saturday because I was with you?we actually owe her one, okay? I was hoping she wouldn?t find out I was with you all day; I had made some excuse about being ill and told her that the maid had answered the phone. Then you turned up and started shouting at us!?
?Really?? I start to feel a bit silly.
?Yes, gorgeous.? David?s laughing now. ?I am now the butt of a million jokes in the office. But that?s okay?you, and our night together, are absolutely worth it. But don?t read anything sinister into the fact that I had to work on Sunday, okay??
?Okay,? I agree. ?But you could have said you were in Rome to work. And not told me you were going to Geneva,? I say pointedly.
?I know. Georgie, I was a fool. I didn?t want to tell you I was going to Rome because I knew you?d want me to take you. In the event, it turns out that I could have done?and I?m so glad you were there?but I didn?t want our first trip to Rome together to be a business trip so I told you I was going to Switzerland instead. And then I was just so shocked to bump into you that I wasn?t thinking straight. Look, don?t be cross with me. I?ll make it up to you. How about we go out tomorrow night? I?ll take you out dancing again and if I even look at another woman you can get into a jealous rage and wallop me on the behind and??
?Okay,? I giggle, ?enough! I forgive you. But less of the touchy-feely stuff in future.?
?You don?t like me touching and feeling you??
?Not me,her .?
?Okay, no touching. And certainly no feeling. I promise. So what do you say, shall we go out tomorrow for a night on the town??
?We could . . .? To be honest I?m not really in the mood for going out.
?I hear hesitation. What?s the matter??
?No, I?d love to, it?s just . . . I mean, I love dancing and everything, but it might be nice to, you know, stay in, just this once . . .?
Now David is laughing. ?My darling, whatever you want. Why don?t you come round and I?ll cook??
I agree gratefully and put the phone down. I know I thought I wanted a glamorous boyfriend who goes out all the time, but when it comes to it, I don?t actually. I want David, who I like being at home with.
Nigel looks up and gives me an odd look. I realize that I?m talking to myself out loud. I go red and turn back to my computer. Mike?s e-mail is waiting for me.
MIKE MARSHALL: Georgie Porgie. Can you come over this evening? I?m in St. John?s Wood. 22 Arcacia Road?flat 14. I need to talk to you about this favor.
Oh God. I?d managed to push Mike out of my head, but it doesn?t look like he?s going to go away. If I don?t go round, he might tell David I was in Rome with him, and I don?t think David would forgive me for that. But I can?t bear to see Mike again and find out what sordid little favor he wants me to do for him. Haven?t I done enough? I keep wondering what was in the bag I took to Rome for him. What if there were drugs in there? I could have gone to prison. I shudder at the thought. Still, one more favor and then that?s it. I will never see Mike again and everything will be fine again. I mean, how hard can one little favor be?
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It?s five o?clock, the time that I would usually be packing up my things in order to make a swift exit. But today I don?t have my usual enthusiasm for leaving the building. I feel a mixture of frustration, nausea, and excitement. Excitement about seeing David tomorrow, frustration because I?m not seeing him tonight, and nausea because I don?t want to go round to Mike?s, don?t want to spend any more time with him. If we?re absolutely honest here, what Mike is doing is no better than blackmail: me doing him a favor in return for his silence. And I didn?t even do anything! Well, nothing really bad anyway. But I can?t risk it. I can?t risk hurting David.
I feel like going for a run or something, which is odd because I never exercise. I mean, I go to a Pilates class about once a month (usually the week after I buy a copy ofVogue orCosmopolitan and read an article on some glamorous supermodel who swears by it) and got really into tennis for a week last year, but I never go to the gym and I absolutely hate jogging.
I decide to go for a walk before making my way up to Mike?s flat. But as I walk past Nigel, he calls me over.
?Georgie, before you go, there?s something I want to . . .?
Much as I don?t want to get to Mike?s any time soon, the last thing I need is more boring work.
?Nigel,? I interrupt. ?Is it really important? There?s something urgent that I need to do, and I?m going to be late if I don?t go now.?
?Oh. Okay. I just thought you might be interested in seeing something.?
Seeing something? Unlikely. But before I can say no Nigel is opening up his briefcase. Inside is a large, bright pink envelope with orange flowers all over it. It?s so hideous it?s quite wonderful.
?Nigel, I?m, well, I?m lost for words actually. Is it a present or something??
