A Hopeless Romantic (8 page)

Laura’s jaw dropped. The first thing that flitted through her mind, unbidden, was, How can you say that to me! I’m George and Angela Foster’s daughter! I’m from Harrow!

She looked at Rachel, whom up until this point she had always thought of as a reasonably sane person, and blinked. “No, of course I’m not,” she said. “Of course I’m not.”

She assumed Rachel meant using alcohol in a
seriously
bad way, not the four white wine spritzers she’d had the previous night with Hilary.

“This…this isn’t about the pay reviews, is it?” she said weakly.

Rachel looked bewildered. “No, of course not. This is what I mean about you, Laura. It’s absolutely not about the pay review. Laura,” Rachel said quietly, putting her hand out toward her over the desk. “We’re suspending you.”

There was a silence, broken only by the sound of the printer whirring outside the door. Someone coughed, far away.

“Laura?” Rachel said.

“What?” said Laura. “Are you serious? I mean—are you—What?”

“Laura, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do. I think you’re a great person to have on the team, and I’ve loved working with you—at least, I used to. But I’m afraid you—your—well, over the past six months or so, your performance has deteriorated so much that I’d—I’d—” Rachel looked down at her notes.

“Just say it,” said Laura, sitting bolt upright in her chair.

“I’d call you a liability.” Rachel looked up at her again, and that was when Laura knew this was for real. Rachel was composed. Cold, even.

“You’re late. And I don’t mean ten minutes late now and then. You’re consistently late, and you never explain why, even though I warned you formally about it three months ago.”

“But—” Laura said. It was true, she’d been getting in a bit later, but that was because Dan was working on a project at the moment that was nearer than before so he was getting a later train, so she’d wait on the platform to go with him….

“It’s not acceptable, Laura. You take long lunches every day. You leave at five on the dot. Your absence report is staggering—do you realize you’ve been off sick for twenty-five days over the past year?”

“I was sick!” Laura gasped.

“No, you weren’t, Laura,” Rachel said. “You just couldn’t be bothered to come in. They were all on Fridays or Mondays. What were you doing?”

Laura remembered the Friday morning in January when she and Dan had been on the train platform, and Amy had rung him to say her father wasn’t well and she was taking the day off and going down to Dorset for the weekend. They’d looked at each other, there on the bench in the winter gloom, and Dan had grabbed Laura’s hand, walked briskly out of the train station with her, taken her back to her flat, and basically ravished her all day, all night, and for the rest of the weekend. She smiled at the memory.

“Things…” she said carefully, trying not to smile again. Then she rushed on, “I know, I know. I know I’ve been a bit crap. But—it’s all going to be fine. When I get back from holiday—you know—oh, I wish I could say more than that, but I can’t. I’m sorry, Rachel. I know I’ve been useless.”

“That’s exactly it,” Rachel said, looking grave. “Laura, look, the problem is you
don’t
know you’ve been useless. You’ve had three formal warnings—this is your third.” She leaned forward, her dark brown eyes huge, full of concern. “That’s why I have to suspend you. You’re lucky you’re getting that, you know. I should just be firing you, but, oh, Laura, I think you’re so good. I just—I just don’t understand it!”

A tear rolled down her cheek. Laura watched it as it splashed onto her personnel file.

Rachel went on, “You’re rude to the volunteers, you’re hopelessly disorganized, nothing ever seems to get done. Four schools didn’t have any reading programs in place for the new year just because you hadn’t got the forms and police checks sorted out. And you know how desperate those schools were for help.”

“They—”

“And the fund-raising,” Rachel said. “You know we’re looking for a big cash injection. You know how crap funding is this year. You were in charge of it, and you’ve done nothing about it, have you?”

“Well…” said Laura. “Linley Munroe—Marcus Sussman—I was going to contact them for the…but then he…”

“Oh, Laura,” said Rachel softly. She swallowed. “It’s just—I just don’t understand why you, of all people…why you’ve lost interest, why you don’t even seem to care.”

“I do care!” Laura said. “I do. It’s just…I’ve been crap.”

As she said it, she realized how inadequate the words were. How she was someone who’d always prided herself on getting the job done, not letting people down; how she’d scorned others for their blinkered approach, their inability to get off their arses and do something to make a difference in their lives, other people’s lives. More than a hundred children, the ones who most needed some individual attention, had been let down by her. Money that could really make a positive difference in someone’s life, perhaps permanently—not there, just because she never got round to it. Because she was thinking about herself. About her and Dan. And Amy. She was the blinkered one. She heard Jo’s voice clearly in her head:
“Don’t you ever learn?”

“And the holiday,” Rachel was saying. “You’ve never cleared it with me, never asked for time off. You know we have to clear it with each other. Everyone else in the office will be away, I couldn’t have let you go then in any case.”

“Well, I’m going,” Laura said stubbornly.

“I know you are, love,” Rachel said. She smiled sadly. “It doesn’t matter what you do anymore. I’m suspending you, effective immediately. You’ll be on thirty percent of your pay, and we’re getting someone in from Lambeth to cover your job. Our school programs finish next week. I want you to take at least two weeks to think about things. A fortnight, okay? And then we’ll call you back in after the school term is over and see where we are.”

“See where we are?”

Rachel shuffled the papers on her desk. “Well. Where we are with a view to reinstating you. Or whether we have to…make this permanent.”

Surely this wasn’t really happening. Surely they were just threatening her. It was a bad dream and she’d wake up in a minute. She was a responsible person, a working girl, like all her friends. How would she explain it to them? To her parents? To her grandmother? She didn’t get…suspended, it was ridiculous!

“But what will I tell everyone?” Laura said angrily. “You can’t do this to me. You really can’t, seriously. This is fucking ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not,” Rachel said. Her voice was distant, unfamiliar, suddenly. “I just don’t get it, honestly I don’t, Laura. I’d always thought you were one of the best, the brightest of all of us. I hoped one day you’d run the program, or become an adviser, a consultant, perhaps even working with the government. I honestly thought you could do whatever you wanted. Be someone who made a real difference…”

Laura stood up and held the handle of the door, in tears. She shook her head at Rachel, wordlessly. Rachel sighed.

“There’s a boy somewhere at the bottom of all this, isn’t there?” Laura heard her say as she ran out. “There always is….”

chapter seven

L
aura didn’t go to Yorky’s birthday dinner. She didn’t tell him the truth. She lied and said she’d been sick and come home from work early. She looked so forlorn and pale in the heat that Yorky obviously believed her, as he stood there fiddling with his keys, looking down at Laura as she lay on the sofa.

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right on your own?” he said anxiously.

Bile flooded Laura’s stomach at her deception, at how she was deceiving and lying to those who loved her the most. How could she do it? She clutched her stomach and winced with real pain, and Yorky looked at her with compassion.

“Oh, babe,” he said. “Poor thing. Look, call me any time and I’ll come home early if you want.”

“It’s your birthday,” Laura said grimly, clenching her teeth. “Go away. Have a great evening. Give the others my love. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” said Yorky. “Really sorry, babe.” He tightened the thin, patterned tie he was wearing and shook his head. “Well, I’m off. Ladies, watch out. The birthday boy’s a-comin’!”

He yelped and tried to moonwalk out of the sitting room. Laura heard him yelp again as he crashed into the hall table, and then the door shut behind him and the flat was silent again. She lay staring up at the ceiling, quite still, for a long time. At last she reached down to the floor and picked up the phone and dialed.

“Dan,” she said. “Yes, I know…. Yes, I know…. Listen! Can we meet tomorrow?…I know…. Yes, me too…. No, not for that. Yorky’s in…. No, he’s in tomorrow, we can’t. I want to talk to you. About the holiday. And things…. Oh, okay, then. Is it on Rathbone Street?…Yep. Okay, see you—yes, see you there.”

The following evening, the heat of the day hung over the city. It was inescapable, both in Laura’s flat, which was airless and oppressive, and out on the street, which was dirty and smelled stale.

Laura stood against the upholstered pad by the stairs of the bus as it lurched its way from the cooler, leafier roads of North London down into the heart of the city. The bus was sweltering, crowded, uncomfortable, and she grew angrier and crosser as it jolted down Oxford Street.

She was late to meet Dan—even though she’d had nothing to do all day, even though no one knew she wasn’t at work, not even Yorky. No one had called; no one had noticed her absence from e-mail or the phone. She had sat in the flat all day, talking to no one, eating nothing, smoking a lot, and thinking about this evening with an increasing sense of dread. There was no one she could talk to, anyway. No one who knew how badly she’d fucked up, and she’d wanted it to stay that way. No, she’d sort this situation out first, and if it worked out—a big if, but she knew it would, it had to this time—then at least, no matter what else happened, she and Dan Floyd would finally be able to tell everyone they were in love, they were a couple, Amy was history, and everything in the garden was finally fantastically rosy.

The Newman Pie Room was above a pub, the Newman Arms, tucked away off Oxford Street on Rathbone Street. It was one room, decked out in old-man’s-pub traditional style, with a few tables and a board on the wall announcing what pies were on offer that particular day. It was one of Laura’s favorite places—Dan had taken her there on one of their first evenings out together. It was a great hidden secret, and certainly not the kind of place you’d ever catch Amy in, more to the point.

Laura’s legs shook slightly as she climbed the rickety twisted stairs, but she reminded herself once again that this choice of location for their summit meeting must be a good thing. Dan was reading the paper, but as he caught sight of her he leaped to his feet, folded it up, and shoved it into his back pocket. He smiled at her, his eyes huge, then drew her into his arms, kissed her, and hugged her tightly for a long time.

“Hello, babe,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “How are you?” He smoothed the hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

“I’m fine,” Laura said, smiling back at him. She wound her arms round his neck. “I’m okay. Yeah, fine.”

“Good,” said Dan, looking over her shoulder. “Sorry, I thought that was…no, it’s fine. So you’re really okay? I missed you, baby. I really missed you.”

He pulled her down onto the bench next to him, and casually put her hand over his crotch. Laura smiled at his cheek, still the same Dan, and looked at the menu board.

“Yep, I’m really okay,” she said, pretending to ignore him but moving a little closer.

The couple at the next table looked at them with distaste.

“Perhaps I should move there,” said Laura, pointing at the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“No,” Dan said, and kissed her ear gently. He whispered, “Please, I want you near me. Who knows when we might be together next?”

“Well,” said Laura weakly, “that’s what we need to talk about, kind of, isn’t it?”

Dan was looking at the menu board and didn’t answer. He snaked his arm around Laura and gently cupped one of her breasts. Laura wriggled with pleasure and nerves. This wasn’t going the way she’d anticipated. She leaned into him, gave into it.

“I missed you, too.”

“Hm?” Dan said. “I’m having the lamb and mint pie, what about you?”

Food. A day spent at home mulling over her problems and failing to come up with solutions had not calmed Laura down one jot. It was sweltering outside, even hotter inside, and she was feeling fairly emotionally fraught. She had eaten very little that day, and had actually been sick before she came out, in a kind of wretched, stressed way. A lamb and mint pie was not really what she was in the mood for.

“Um,” she began, knotting and unknotting her hands in her lap. “I’m not that hungry, you know. I feel a bit funny. I might just have a salad.”

“Really?” Dan looked at her as if she were insane. “You’re okay, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Laura said, beginning to be slightly irritated that the question kept being asked yet not followed through on. She steeled herself and put her hand on Dan’s wrist. “Look at me,” she said.

He turned to face her.

“I am fine,” she said. “I’m really fine, in fact. But we need to talk. There’s…things we need to discuss. Tonight.”

Dan looked slightly alarmed. “Right. Why aren’t you hungry?” he said after a pause.

“Well, I was a bit sick today, but that’s normal…nothing. Look—”

Dan’s reaction to this news was unexpected. His jaw dropped and he gaped at her, then gasped several times as if short of breath. “You were sick?” he said. “Why?”

Laura wanted to be touched by his concern, but he was looking genuinely horrified. She found it a little off-putting. How could she explain everything to him? Why couldn’t he understand? “I…well. I haven’t been feeling too good lately.”

“Are you…ill?” Dan said, his jaw muscles clenching. “Have you been off work?”

“Well…actually, I have. Something’s happened. That’s what…” She swallowed. “Things are going to be difficult over the next couple of months, Dan,” she said softly. “That’s why I have to know what’s going on with us. I have to know, I can’t do it anymore.”