I stand for a moment looking at my reflection in the mirror, then I take out my mobile phone. There is one more thing I have to do.
?Candy? Hi, it?s Georgie. Can I come round and see you??
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The reception to International Magazines Inc. is nearly as glamorous as David?s, but where David?s reception has lots of important-looking people in suits buzzing around and talking about the latest low-cost airline merger and the likelihood of further consolidation in the construction industry, this place is full of women with sharp haircuts discussing Marc Jacobs waiting lists and whether the Laura Ashley revival is just a flash in the pan.
But having felt so out of place in David?s offices, I now feel right at home. A woman tells me that she loves my hair and rather than do my usual ?Really? You like it? I?m not sure it?s really me actually. Your hair is much nicer,? I smile graciously and accept the compliment.
I am thankful, however, that I had the insight to change my clothes before I came?this morning I resorted to borrowing clothes from my mother?s wardrobe and they didn?t fit me at all, but after my haircut I nipped into Top Shop and bought a simple black linen shift dress and a pair of ballerina pumps. My legs may not be particularly tanned, but still, I?m sure the pale and interesting look is in right now. I glance at myself in the mirrored walls of International Magazines? reception and think to myself thatInStyle was right, you can make cheap clothes look expensive if you know what you?re looking for. I actually look quite sophisticated.
The doors of the lift open, and Candy emerges. She is still amazingly thin, considering she?s pregnant. She?s dressed all in black and her blond hair is tied back neatly in a ponytail. She looks at me and then does a double take.
?George! God, you look amazing. What happened to you??
I give a halfhearted smile. ?Oh, you know. Shall we . . . can we go and get a coffee or something??
?Great!? I can see her taking surreptitious looks at me as we walk down the street. And she hasn?t made one comment about how I need accessories, or a different pair of shoes.
There is a small cafe on the corner and when we sit down I notice that ?Stand by Your Man? is playing on the radio. I don?t know whether to laugh or cry.
Candy looks tired. She tells me about her hectic schedule and a nightmare fashion shoot she?s trying to set up, but while her voice is bright and breezy, I can see real tension in her face. I think this is the first time I?ve ever seen Candy look stressed.
Maybe it?s the pregnancy, I think.
?So . . . ?? she says expectantly when we make it to a free table with our frothy cappuccinos. She looks at me, and then at the clock on the wall. I?m guessing I haven?t got much of her time.
?It?s about Mike,? I begin.
?Ah. Yes.? Candy looks thoughtful. ?Don?t tell me. He?s leaving me for you. You?ve finally got your revenge. I suppose that?s your victory haircut. Am I right?? Her face is smiling but her eyes are thunderous.
?No!? I exclaim. ?Candy, Mike has lied to both of us. I didn?t want you to find out from anyone else: he is going to Malaga, you were right. Only, I?m not sure he?s coming back. He?s got David into a whole load of trouble and he?s buggering off tonight. I just . . . I thought you should know.?
Candy stares at me and doesn?t say anything. Somehow this isn?t going as expected. There is none of the bonding, none of the hugs and tears that this sort of revelation usually brings about in films. Candy is sitting quite still, tight-lipped, and is now gazing into the distance.
?I was the one who told you about the tickets to Malaga,? Candy says sharply. ?I don?t see why you had to drag me out of a meeting to tell me something I knew already.?
?I . . . I didn?t know if you knew that . . . he isn?t coming back.?
I look at Candy worriedly. Is she going to have one of those delayed reactions and get incredibly emotional in a minute or two? But her eyes don?t convey any emotion at all.
?Right,? she says crisply, standing up to go. ?Is that everything??
I can?t work out what?s going on. Didn?t I explain myself properly? Doesn?t Candy realize what I?m saying?
?Candy, look, I know this is bad news, and I?m sorry to be the one telling you, but how can you be so calm? Aren?t you worried about the baby and stuff? Don?t you care what an utter shithead Mike has been? What he?s done to David??
I?m so angry I feel myself wanting to take out my frustrations on Candy, to make her react, to make her cry. Not exactly mature, I know, but it?s been a tough day.
Candy stares at me long and hard and then looks down.
?There is no baby,? she says flatly.
No baby?
?Since when? Candy, what happened??
?What happened,? she says slowly, ?is that I wasn?t pregnant after all. Wasn?t ever pregnant, actually. I thought I was?I missed two periods and felt really bloated. And when I found out that I wasn?t, I couldn?t bear it. I thought that if I could just keep everyone thinking I was pregnant, then everything would be fine. Mike would marry me . . .?
A small tear is wending its way down Candy?s cheek. I try not to feel pleased that she?s finally upset.
?It looks like even a real baby wouldn?t have done the trick anyway,? she says.
