‘I’d like you to stop making inappropriate comments please, Georgina.’
‘Inappropriate…?’
‘Like the one you just made about a quickie.’
‘A turn of phrase, Stephen. What are you suggesting?’
‘Some of your turns of phrase make me uncomfortable.’
‘You’re uncomfortable with banter? That seems so odd considering what I’ve heard about your antics back in London.’ She laughed.
‘Whatever I do in my personal life has nothing to do with the office. And banter is fine. But suggestive comments are not. Nor is any…touching.’ I swallowed. Why did I feel like such a fool doing this? Social conditioning, I supposed. I needed to push on. ‘You’re my boss, Georgina, and I don’t want there to be any confusion. I’m not interested in anything but a professional relationship with you.’
She stared at me. ‘Of course our relationship is professional and nothing more than that.’
‘Then there’s no problem and I’m looking forward to working with you for the rest of the summer.’
She recovered herself and sent me a cool smile. ‘If that’s all then?’
‘That’s all.’
I went back to my desk and didn’t hear a word from her for the rest of the day that wasn’t utterly professional and distant, but I could deal with an icy manner.
I wanted to tell Noelle I’d dealt with it like she advised and find out if she’d dealt with her issue with her neighbour too, but I couldn’t call her up and find out. Because whether or not I was coming to believe I wasn’t as bad as my father, she saw me as a womaniser still.
When I got home at the end of the day, there was a Jiffy bag sitting in my pigeonhole. Just the sight of another large padded envelope like that with a New York address on it was enough to give me the shivers. Dear God, please don’t let it be more secrets revealed, another batch of birthday cards or family photos from a bunch of relatives I never knew existed.
I slid it out and hefted it in my arm. It was heavy. If it was birthday cards there were more there than the number of birthdays I’d actually had. But I was fairly certain I recognised the handwriting, round and neat and large, and I felt a leap of hope in my chest.
I took it straight over to the table when I got into my apartment and pulled out the huge stack of A4 pages with print on one side held together by an elastic band. On top of that was a letter.
Dear Stephen
We are a pair of idiots.
I blinked. That was a hell of an opening line.
In this letter I will explain why. I’ll explain why I am an idiot first and then I’ll tell you why you’re an idiot, and then I’m going to conclude with a suggestion for how we can de-idiotise ourselves.
This was going to need a beer. I grabbed one from my kitchen and then sat at the table.
I’m an idiot
Because I keep thinking I can take a look at a person and get them all figured out. From the start you confused me though, and I’ve been desperate to try and fit you in one of my stupid boxes so that I wouldn’t get hurt. You are not a Type A or a Type B. You do not pass my dating quiz with flying colours. In fact, you flunk it fairly spectacularly, but I’ve learnt that it doesn’t mean you are a waste of time. The quiz is what is a waste of time.
I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry I spent so much time fighting my feelings for you and not being honest about what I wanted from you. And I’m sorry I told you the worst thing I could possibly tell you when you were reeling and having a shitty time and feeling awful. I was the selfish one.
Here’s why you’re an idiot:
You found the character worksheet about James and assumed it was you, didn’t you? I know that I’ve said things about how I’ve judged you that would have backed up that assumption. (See above for my errors on that front.) But here is the thing. You have to stop believing that rubbish about yourself first. Some people are going to think you’re an awful human being – not everyone can like us – and some people are going to think you’re great. But it won’t matter either way if you don’t like yourself. And there is so much about you that there is to like. You are not anything like my character James or your father and you need to stop telling yourself that. You are Cartwright, Stephen Cartwright, and you’re a pretty damn fantastic human being in my opinion.
The De-idiotising Plan
1)Read through the passages marked in blue in my manuscript.
When I realised that you had seen the character profile for James, I thought about going through the whole manuscript and highlighting where he appears to prove to you that he was just a character and one who does a lot of very awful stuff that you would never do. And then I noticed as I was reading that youwereactually in my novel and I picked up my pink highlighter too.
2)Read through the passages marked in pink in my manuscript
