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“Oh no, nothing like that. All of this only kicked off on Tuesday. We’re spending a few weeks apart right now, just to see how things go. But thank you for the offer.”
“Not a problem. And remember, the option of going to your doctor is always there. They can sign you off for a week or two, if the need arises due to stress.”
“I hope that won’t be necessary, but thank you.” I pasted my best professional smile back on my face. “I’ll see you at six o’clock tomorrow.”
“I hope you have a bearable evening, Jean,” she smiled back. “And I hope things work out with Petra. You always struck me as a wonderful couple.”
Before I could start crying again, I left the room, left the shop and stumbled out through the late-July heat to my car. Autopilot took over again as I drove the twenty minutes home, and before I knew it, I was standing in my living room, which – like the rest of the house – was silent as the grave.
Once again, the fatigue overtook me, and I sank down onto the sofa. At that moment, only the television seemed to be a feasible plan of action.
Chapter Fifty-Five
At some stage, I must have fallen asleep, because the knock at the door a couple of hours later made me jump out of my skin. I hadn’t even managed to turn the fan on, and the jacket of my work uniform – only worn in the summer heat because it was cold in the shop – was stuck to my body with sweat. Not the best state in which to answer the door, but my body was once again moving on autopilot.
Please be Petra, I thought just as I swung the door open. Then –
“Oh,” I said as Cass and Heather (presumably) entered my vision.
“Well, thank God for that,” Cass said, wiping her brow.
“Sorry?” I spluttered.
“You’ve not been responding to our messages. Petra said you’d be working today, so Heather and I just drove out to the shop to find you, only for the woman in there to tell us that she’s never heard of you! We thought you’d… emigrated or something.”
Now Heather interrupted, putting a quelling hand on her girlfriend’s arm. “Did you quit your job?”
“No!” Despite it all, I laughed. “That’s just company policy. There have been a couple of instances in other shops where stalkers have come after employees, so it’s now standard policy in the company not to give any indication that anyone specific works there. If you see what I mean. Sorry. I’m not at my most eloquent today.”
“So why aren’t you at work?” Cass said. “I mean, you’re dressed for work. Are you okay?”
“The heat got on top of me,” I fibbed. “So I came home a little early.”
“The heat?” Heather repeated. “Your shop is freezing bloody cold!” Then she took a breath, and seemed to peer at me. “You don’t seem okay. Are you?”
I felt myself deflate. “No, not really,” my voice said.
“Called it,” Heather said, and I smiled despite myself.
“Do you want to come for a drink with us?” Cass said.
“When were you thinking?” Mentally, I was running through my self-imposed meal plan. Tonight was supposed to be ham and mushroom tagliatelle a la microwave.
“Like in about five minutes. Just for a drink. Lemonade is calling my name in this heat, I don’t know about you.”
“And one of the pub’s mocktails is calling mine,” Heather said. “What about you? Is something calling yours? Jeeeean, Jeeeeeean, drink me…!” She pulled a ghostly face to go with the ghostly voice, and Cass laughed.
“Fine, fine, fine,” I chuckled. “Just for one drink. You go on ahead and I’ll get changed. I’ll be ten minutes.”
“What drink is calling your name, then?” Heather said, picking up her bag again in preparation for leaving.
“Moscato-” I begun, automatically thinking of my go-to drink for seeming like a woman. Then I stopped. I wasn’t a woman. So why would I get that drink? “Half a pint of bitter,” I said instead.
“Wine and beer?” Cass narrowed her eyes. “Together? Like a snakebite gone wrong?”
“No,” I chuckled again. “Just the beer. Thank you. Next round will be on me.”
“I thought you wanted just one drink,” Heather laughed as they turned away.
