spontaneously combust. That would spoil Stephen Hodge’s party all right.
I had to move away from Phin or it would all get very messy. Straightening, I made a show of pushing my hair behind my ears. ‘Um…isn’t it time for your speech?’ I asked him with an edge of desperation.
‘I suppose I’d better throw a few scraps to the monster’s ego,’ sighed Phin. ‘He hasn’t been kow-towed to for all of thirty seconds! Where would you like me to do it, Jonathan?’
‘We’ve set up a podium,’ said Jonathan. ‘I’d better go and warn Stephen that we’re ready to go.’
‘Lead on,’ said Phin, and held out his hand to me. ‘Are you coming, CP?’
Jonathan looked puzzled. ‘CP?’
I smiled uncomfortably as I took Phin’s hand. ‘Private joke,’ I said.
After that, we had to kiss every time we got ready to go out. ‘Come here and be kissed,’ Phin would say, holding out his arms. ‘This is the best part of the day.’
I was very careful to keep reminding myself that those kisses didn’t mean a thing, but secretly I found myself looking forward to them. I always tried to make a joke of it, of course.
‘Oh, let’s get it over with, then,’ I’d say, putting my arms briskly around his neck, but there was always a moment when our determined jokiness faded into something else entirely, something warm and yearning-the moment when I succumbed to the honeyed pleasure spilling along my veins, to the tug of longing and the wicked crackle of excitement between us.
I would like to say that it was me who put an end to the kiss every time, but I’d be lying. It was almost always Phin who lifted his head before I remembered that it was only supposed to be a quick kiss and thought about pulling away.
‘We’re getting good at this now,’ Phin would say. I noticed, though, that the famous smile looked a little forced, and he was often distracted afterwards.
The theory had been that the more we kissed, the easier it would get. But it didn’t work like that. It got more and more difficult to disentangle those kisses from reality, harder and harder to remember that I wanted Jonathan, that Phin was just amusing himself.
To remember why we had to stop at a kiss.
And the worst thing was that there was a bit of me that didn’t want to.
Whenever I realised that I’d give myself a stern ticking off. This would involve a rigorous reminder of all the reasons why it would be stupid to fall for someone like Phin. He wasn’t serious. He wasn’t steady. He didn’t want to settle down. I’d end up hurt and humiliated and I’d have no one to blame but myself.
Much-
Jonathan was everything Phin wasn’t. He was everything I needed.
I just couldn’t always remember why.
Ironically, the harder I tried to remind myself of how much I wanted Jonathan, the more often Jonathan found excuses to drop into the office.
‘You can’t tell me our plan’s not working now,’ Phin said to me one evening as we sipped champagne at some gallery opening. ‘Jonathan’s always sniffing around nowadays. I trip over him every time I come into office. I notice he was there again this afternoon.’
He sounded uncharacteristically morose, and I shot him a curious look.
‘He just came to see what I knew about the Cameroon trip,’ I said uncomfortably, although I had no idea why I felt suddenly guilty.
‘Ha!’ said Phin mirthlessly. ‘Was that all he could think of as an excuse?’
‘It wasn’t an excuse,’ I said.
I had the feeling Jonathan was looking forward to going to Africa about as much as I was. I’d tried everything I could to get out of the trip, but Phin was adamant. The flights were booked for the end of March, and I was dreading it.
It was so
‘And don’t bother with any make-up,’ Phin had told me. ‘Sunblock is all you’ll need.’
I was taking some anyway.
I don’t suppose Jonathan was bothered about the make-up issue, but he was clearly anxious about the whole experience. Phin had presented the trip as a staff development exercise, and I suspected Jonathan didn’t want to be developed any more than I did.
‘I’m really glad you’re going to be in same group when we go to Africa,’ he had said to me, only that afternoon.
Phin was eyeing me moodily over the rim of his champagne glass. ‘Nobody could be
‘Look, what’s the problem?’ I demanded. ‘Isn’t the whole idea that Jonathan starts to find me interesting again? Or did you want to spend the rest of your life stuck in this pretence?’
‘It just irritates me that he’s being so cautious.’ Phin hunched a shoulder. ‘If you’d been mine, and I’d realised what an idiot I’d been, I wouldn’t be dithering around talking about malaria pills, or whether to pack an extra towel, and how many pairs of socks to take. I’d be sweeping you off your feet.’
It wasn’t like Phin to be grouchy. That was
‘Yes, well, the whole point is that you’re
I lifted my chin. ‘And I wouldn’t
And right then I even believed it.
Or told myself I did, anyway.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, but you have to remember how clear Phin always made it that he would never consider a permanent relationship. He liked teasing me, he liked kissing me, and we got on surprisingly well, but there was never any question that there might be more than that.
I’m not a fool. I knew just how easy it would be to fall in love with him. But I knew, too, how pointless it would be. I might grumble about him endlessly, but it was fun being with Phin. Much to my own surprise, I was enjoying our pretend affair.
But I wouldn’t let myself lose sight of the fact that the security I craved lay elsewhere. I was earning better money now, and could start to think about buying a flat. Lori, I’d heard, was back with her old boyfriend and, whatever I might say to Phin, I knew Jonathan was definitely showing signs of renewed interest in me. Somewhere along the line I’d lost my desperate adoration of him, but he was still attractive, still nice, still steady. I could feel safe with Jonathan, I knew.
I had never had a better chance to have everything I wanted, and I wasn’t going to throw it away-no matter how good it felt being with Phin.
I had run out of excuses. Hunched and sullen, I sat in the departure lounge at Heathrow, nursing a beaker of tea. It was five-thirty in the morning, and I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be at home, in bed, soon to begin my nice, safe routine.
I did the same thing every day. I woke up at half past six and made myself a cup of tea. Then I showered, dried my hair and put on my make-up. I took the same bus, the same tube, and stopped at Otto’s at the same time to buy a cappuccino from Lucia.
You could set your watch by the time I got to the office and sat down behind my immaculately tidy desk. Then