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“Nothing. Honestly. Sorry, I’ve got you down here for no good reason.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said firmly.
Lying was not my forte and I could see he was not convinced by my denial. He could do little as with each passing moment my memories sank away, the sense of dread lifted and I became in control of my faculties again. I made a concerted effort to stop my hands trembling.
“Please, Jason, forget about this. I ate too quickly and got light-headed,” I said and stood up. My feet held firm and there was no residual dizziness. I smiled at him.
We walked to the lift shaft together without speaking and he pressed the button for my floor. I glanced at him and tried to ignore the rising sense of embarrassment. Nothing was said as we parted company. Nevertheless, I could tell he was not fobbed off my rapid recovery. There was one thing I had learnt quickly about Jason Lucas, he was very perceptive and not likely to be fooled by lies.
I was treated, later in the evening, to a rare text from Jason.
: Are you OK?
A simple message, so I sent him a simple reply.
: Absolutely fine. Watching really bad TV show, you’d hate it
***
I could barely hear Trudy’s voice over the music. Wednesday evening and we were having a drink in an exceptionally noisy pub a few streets from where I worked. Trudy had dashed over from her office where she worked as a clerk for an insurance company. She was already downing her second glass of wine and wriggling in her seat in time to the music.
Trudy and I went back many years to a time we hardly remember. Our mums had worked together when Trudy and I were small and they had become lifelong friends. Many weekends I would play at Trudy’s house as we dressed dolls and told each other our secrets. I did not tell Trudy my secrets anymore. Eventually we had drifted apart as our parents moved about and we had relied on phone calls and occasional catch up visits. When I had graduated and I came to work in the City, we had rekindled our friendship, easy now that we worked no more than a few streets from each other now. She had introduced her own friends to me while I tried to build liaisons at my old job. It became easier to adopt her friends than maintain relationships with indifferent work colleagues.
“Look, Trudy, it is hard at the moment. New job and everything. I can’t be out with you every evening.”
She had been backing me into a corner for the past few weeks, constantly wanting to go out to nightclubs with me.
“Every evening! Gem, name an evening?” she frowned at me and I felt awkward.
The lie filled chat was not going well.
“I’m still waiting for an explanation of why you wouldn’t see me for practically a month, plus you’re disappearing at the weekends again. What is it about the weekends? Most girls your age are partying and the like, you vanish into a black hole!” Trudy took a large swig from her glass.
“You know and have always known it is not my scene. Not at the weekend. I visit my parents and spend time doing my artwork. I am an introvert,” I restated the same old defences.
Trudy rolled her eyes up at the ceiling.
“I’ve seen you dance, Gemma. There is no way that is the behaviour of an introvert.” She looked past me over my shoulder, “Oh, he’s a hunk. What do you think?”
I looked over my shoulder at the dark haired man Trudy had latched on to with her eyes. Had she no shame at all? It would not have surprised me if yet again I made my own way home and she swanned off with a man on her arm. I sighed, oh Trudy, one day you were going to regret your wayward antics.
I looked down at my empty glass.
“One for the road then?”
She was already gone from my side and I wondered why I bothered sometimes with her company. The simple answer was Trudy was all I had. Her friends were my friends and beyond them there was a heaving throng of an abandoned past. I circled a finger around the rim of my glass. I knew the inbox of my personal email account was full to brimming with invitations. To this party, this gathering or event and some from individuals who sought me privately for one-to-one meeting. I had ignored the bulk of them and had replied to only a handful who I did not want to offend. The reality was I did not want to go back to those people I once called friends and acquaintances. Some even had been my bedfellows and I dismissed them all. Eventually my lack of interest and response would bring the most concerned to my door. I would then have to decide once and for all where my future lay.
***
The following morning and I was at my desk half-listening to the gossip. This manager, that manager, endless tittle-tattle. I heard Jason’s name mentioned and perked up to listen.
“He’s gay, come on, never seen with a girl. He has to be.”
I sniggered quietly – how wrong they were!
“I heard that he’s going to retire early to a tropical island with a harem of virgins,” another voice boasted. There was lots of laughter around that idea.
“Gemma, what do you make of Mr Lucas? You’ve had a one-to-one meeting with him after all,” Penny sidled up to my desk. I tried not to blush.
