What Might Have Been (20 page)

‘When? When exactly did I “have my chance”?’

‘Back when we, you know . . .’

‘Slept together behind your boyfriend’s back?’

‘Well, yes.’ Sarah’s gaze faltered. ‘But then you left.’

‘Only because you never gave me any indication that things might be different if I stayed. Or asked you.’

‘Asked me what?’

‘To leave him. And . . .’ Evan frowned. The words ‘go out with me’ seemed so inappropriate. So childish. He shook his head – he didn’t have time for dictionary definitions now. ‘To be with me. And not him.’

‘But you didn’t, did you? And did it even occur to you to try?’

‘Of course it did. But if you remember, you’d pretty much told me to get lost.’

‘Yes,’ she said, quietly. ‘I remember.’

They stared at the table, his coffee, anything except for each other, until Evan broke the uneasy silence. ‘Answer me one more question, Sarah. And be honest. You owe me that.’

She coughed nervously. ‘I can’t promise . . .’

‘Why did you and I . . . you know? Even though you were already with David.’

‘I . . .’ She looked directly at him, and Evan could see what he thought was pain in her eyes. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Yes you do. What did you think I could give you that he couldn’t? And why did it suddenly stop being important?’

Sarah reached across the table and rested a hand on his arm, and Evan had to fight the impulse to grab hold of it and never let go. ‘It didn’t stop being important. It just became less important. And I didn’t have much choice but to get used to it. Seeing as you weren’t around anymore.’

‘And do you understand why I left? Why I had to go?’

‘Yes,’ said Sarah. ‘I think so.’

‘So, what was it?’

Sarah removed her hand, and sat back in her chair. ‘It’s complicated, Evan.’

‘I’m sure you can explain.’

‘He and I . . . David, well . . .’ Sarah paused. ‘If I tell you why I’m marrying David, you’ll laugh. If I tell you why I . . . felt what I felt for you, why I . . .’

‘Picked me up that night, and mercilessly used me for sex?’ He smiled, trying to lessen the viciousness of the remark, but Sarah’s expression showed him he’d made his point.

‘You might not understand.’

‘Try me.’

‘Okay.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s going to sound like a cliché, but David’s safe. Solid. Reliable. Trustworthy. And if I’m going to stay in a country that doesn’t seem to want to make me feel welcome, doing a job that some days I don’t really understand, then he’s the kind of person I need to make it bearable. You? Well, what we had – sorry,
did
– was exciting. Spontaneous.
Different
. And I’d never had that before. Not someone who made me feel . . .’

‘Alive?’

She stared at him for what felt like the longest time. ‘It’s just . . . easy with David.’

‘Easy? Or easier?’

Sarah ignored him. ‘But you and me . . . It was just one night, Evan.
One night
.’

‘And lunch the next day,’ he reminded her.

‘Even so. It wasn’t
real
.’

‘It was for me, Sarah. And I think it was for you too.’

‘But David’s . . .’

‘Boring?’

Evan was smiling, and to his relief, Sarah followed suit. ‘No, not boring, exactly. Just, well, steady.’

He looked at her across the table, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that was building up inside him. ‘And you really think he’s going to be happy for you to work, you know, after . . . wards?’ he asked, still not wanting to use the words ‘the wedding’.

‘Why wouldn’t he be?’

‘Well, for one thing, I’m sure it hardly fits in with his idea of married life. Who’s going to stay at home and make sure the butler doesn’t sell off the family jewels?’

Sarah laughed. ‘We haven’t discussed it. But I think David’s aware . . .’ Evan’s raised eyebrow stopped her mid-sentence. They both knew ‘David’s aware’ wasn’t a phrase that you could be sure of.

‘And you’d be happy to be one of those corporate wives?’

‘David doesn’t expect me to be.’

‘Doesn’t he?’ He smiled sympathetically. ‘All I’m saying is this. Think long and hard about what it is that you’re doing. Because I might not be here when you realise you’ve made a mistake.’

Evan knew he’d made one himself almost as soon as the words had left his lips, but before he could begin to apologise, Sarah was on her feet.

‘How dare you lecture me.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Evan tried to keep his voice calm, aware other people were watching them. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just trying to make sure you’ve thought about . . .’

‘I’ve done nothing but think for the past year, Evan. And I’ve made my mind up. I’m marrying David,’ she said, her voice raised. ‘Can’t you understand that?’

‘No,’ said Evan, firmly. ‘I’ve met him, and no, I can’t.’

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, then her eyes flicked to somewhere over his shoulder. She suddenly turned pale, and before he could stop her, she’d wheeled around and headed straight for
the do
or.

And although Evan didn’t know it, sitting in the seat behind him – and the reason for Sarah’s panicked exit – was Sally, David’s PA, sipping her coffee smugly.

34

S
arah hurried along the corridor, nodding a curt hello to a couple of the other women on the way, her body language indicating she didn’t have time to stop and chat. What Evan had been
saying
had troubled her – and there was only one way to deal with it.

She threw her coat and bag onto her desk, then headed back out and along the corridor to David’s corner office and peered through the blinds that obscured the glass. As usual, he was sitting at his desk with his back to the window, oblivious to the stunning London panorama behind him. She’d asked him once why he didn’t turn his desk round to face the other way, and he’d mumbled something about not being here to look at the view. It hadn’t taken Sarah long to realise that was his philosophy for most things in life. Sally wasn’t back yet – she’d have to deal with that later too, she knew – but David’s door was ajar, so with a cursory knock, she walked inside. At the sound of her approach, David looked up from one of the three screens that bordered his desk, a momentary look of annoyance on his face.

‘Darling?’ he said, but not before he checked she’d closed the door securely behind her. Since the beginning he’d insisted they keep their romance secret, as he hadn’t wanted to be seen ‘banging the help’ – his little joke, although she’d almost dumped him there and then for making it. But he’d apologised with an expensive
dinner
at The Ivy, and – although it had taken until she’d finished her sticky toffee pudding – Sarah had forgiven him.

‘Got a minute?’

David glanced at his watch. Sarah was sure it was an automatic reaction, but it still bugged her.

‘If it is just a minute.’

‘Great.’ She hopped up onto the corner of his desk. ‘I was just wondering. After we’re . . . after Saturday. How did you see things going? With me.’

‘Going?’

‘Here, I mean.’

David leant back in his chair, and folded his arms behind his head. ‘You mean your career?’

Sarah listened for a trace of sarcasm, but couldn’t detect
one. ‘Yes
.’

‘Ah. Tricky one.’

‘Why tricky?’

‘Well, it might be a little awkward, don’t you think?’

‘Awkward?’ She tried to keep her voice level. ‘Why awkward?’

David let out a short laugh. ‘You’ll be the boss’s wife, won’t you? And that might make things uncomfortable.’

‘Who for?’

‘Well, you.’

‘Why?’

‘Okay. For me as well. I’ll hardly be able to order you about like I will at home, will I?’

He’d obviously meant it as a joke, but Sarah didn’t find it
particularly
amusing. ‘You don’t now.’

‘But you’re in my department, aren’t you? So, technically, I do.’

‘So what are you suggesting? That I should ask for a transfer to another department?’

‘Ah. You could, I suppose. Although you’ve already had one, don’t forget. From the U.S.’

‘Which was your idea.’

‘And besides, there aren’t a great number of opportunities elsewhere in the bank for someone with your . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘Skills.’

‘Fine. I’ll just stay here, then. No sense rocking the boat.’

‘Ah.’

‘What does
that
mean?’

‘Like I say. It might make things a little tricky.’

‘Why? Does the bank have a policy that says employees can’t be married to each other?’

‘I wasn’t talking about bank policy, sweetheart.’ David leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk – a pose that she’d seen him use with colleagues whenever he didn’t want to be argued with. ‘I mean, you can’t really expect to just carry on as before once you’re my wife.’

‘Do you mean generally, or just here in the office?’

‘Here, of course.’

Sarah was beginning to suspect the other might be true as well. ‘Why not?’

‘Well, how many of the other partners’ wives work here?’

Sarah shrugged. Hardly any of the other partners’ wives worked
full stop
. ‘So?’

‘So it just wouldn’t be the done thing.’

Sarah laughed, but bitterly. ‘And just what is the “done thing”, David? I spend my days shopping in Harvey Nicks, then get home in time to make sure your dinner’s on the table like the good little wife?’

‘Well, what did you think would happen?’ David had raised his voice a little. He caught himself, and smiled. ‘Besides, what would be the point of you working? I earn more than enough money for the two of us.’

Sarah fought a rising tide of unease as she began to see that life with David might not be exactly perfect. ‘But what if I
want
to?’

The
ping
of an email arriving on his Blackberry surprised them both, and Sarah glared at him, daring him to read it. She suddenly felt foolish – what had she been expecting? David was used to getting his own way – it happened here every day at work, and she had her suspicions that being an only child had certainly taught him that sharing was something other people did. At the same time, she knew he didn’t
mean
to be selfish – it was more that it never occurred to him to look out for other people. But why would you, if everything you did was based on the assumption that everyone would see things your way – including your fiancée?

‘Sweetheart?’ He was peering at her strangely. ‘What’s brought this on?’

Sarah suddenly felt an irrational desire to tell him, but before she could get a word out, his desk phone bleeped; Sally, back from her lunch break, to tell him he had a conference call waiting.

‘I have to take this,’ he said, patting her knee. ‘But we’ll talk about this later, I promise.’

Sarah jumped down off the corner of the desk and made for the door. ‘Good,’ she said, though whether it would do any, she wasn’t so sure.

She waited until she heard David connect to his call, then shut the door behind her and walked purposefully over to Sally’s desk, hovering at her side while Sally took her time finishing whatever it was she was typing, then cleared her throat.

‘It wasn’t what you thought,’ she said.

‘What wasn’t?’ Sally said, sweetly enough, although she still hadn’t looked up from her computer screen.

‘What you saw earlier. In the deli.’

‘And what do you assume I thought?’ Sally leant back in her chair and regarded Sarah over the rim of her tortoiseshell-frame glasses. ‘That it was some kind of tryst? Surely not, with your wedding this Saturday.’

Sarah stared back at her, trying to keep her anger in check. ‘Evan’s a friend,’ she said. ‘He wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing. That’s all.’

‘Evan, you say?’

Sarah tried to ignore Sally’s arched eyebrow, and hoped she wouldn’t come to regret letting his name slip. At least she hadn’t seemed to recognise him from the other evening.

‘That’s right.’

‘And has he? Made sure?’

Sarah felt herself start to blush, but didn’t want to show any sign of weakness in front of Sally. On occasion, the PAs acted like a pack of hyenas, and she’d seen women who dropped their guard be slowly and systematically picked off. She suddenly felt awkward, as if she’d made some rookie mistake – her intention had been to try and dismiss the incident as something trivial, but now she feared Sally would suspect it
was
something important, simply because she’d come over and made a point of mentioning it.

‘Anyway,’ she said, ignoring Sally’s question. ‘I just wanted to let you know.’

‘I won’t give it a second thought,’ said Sally, turning back to her computer screen, but Sarah didn’t believe her. It wouldn’t take long before the news would spread like wildfire through the circle of PAs, and then, possibly, even to David. Unless . . .

‘Oh. One more thing. You are coming to the reception on
Saturday
, I take it?’

‘The reception?’ Sally looked up sharply. ‘Really?’

‘Of course. David was just telling me the other day how important you were to him, and that he – well,
we
– would love you to be there.’

‘Well, I . . .’ For a moment, Sally seemed genuinely shocked. ‘I mean, I’d love to.’

‘Great,’ said Sarah. ‘That’s settled, then.’ She forced a smile, then turned on her heel and headed back to her office, sure Sally was probably already emailing the other PAs
en masse
with news of her invite. David would be livid, but there was no other way she could see to guarantee Sally’s silence – she’d be more interested in boasting to the other girls that she’d been invited, and therefore would want the wedding to go ahead so she could report back any gossip, and so certainly wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it actually happening.
Yes
, Sarah thought to herself,
that was masterful
. Of course, what Sally did with the information afterwards was anyone’s guess – assuming there
was
an ‘afterwards’ . . .

Sarah knew she had more immediate problems – not in the least how to tell David she’d invited Sally. Though given a choice between that and explaining what she’d been doing with Evan, she knew which one she’d prefer.