He sighed. ‘I see. This is because Kathryn took me to lunch last week.’ Frank might be a dick but he’s not stupid. ‘You’re prying.’
‘Of course I am. Spill.’
‘Phoebe, I am your boss and this is not an—’
He stopped talking when I gave him a look that saidReally? You want to go down this road?
‘Fine. Kathryn is my divorce lawyer. Vanessa and I are no longer together.’
‘I knew— What? Hang on! You’re married?’
‘Was married.’ He started pressing random buttons on his keyboard, nervously. This was obviously uncomfortable for him. ‘Three years.’
‘Well. I’m sorry. I . . . don’t really know what to say.’
‘Well there’s a fucking first,’ he mumbled under his breath.
‘I am sorry, though. I feel bad now. We thought you were having an affair.’
He stopped tapping. ‘WE? Who’swe?’
‘Oh relax, just me and Lucy. We had nothing better to talk about. I promise this won’t go any further.’
He nodded and I quickly left. What Imeantwasthis won’t go any further than me . . . and Lucy . . . oh, and definitely Hazel, but again, he’s a smart man. He knows me.
Saturday June 3rd
Oliver’s mum and dad have invited us to Dublin during the school holidays but he’s less than keen to go.
‘I’m not using my holiday allowance to be fucking miserable. I want to be miserable somewhere warm, where my mum won’t nag me about getting a haircut. I’ll make up an excuse.’
In other news, HOW THE HELL IS IT JUNE ALREADY? I haven’t done anything. Is it too late to take back my plan to not make any New Year’s resolutions because I feel like I should have had some goals in place. Even Molly has fulfilled her ‘pick names for all the cats I see’ resolution, though I’m not sure ‘big pussy face’ was entirely appropriate for the cat who sits on our bins.
Monday June 5th
Frank kept away from me today, probably scared I’d quiz him about his recent divorce, which of course I would have given half a chance. I told Lucy all about it as we walked to the station after work.
‘I wonder what he did?’ she mused, pushing the button at the traffic lights. ‘I’m convinced it must have been his fault.’
‘Why?’ I asked, stepping back from the kerb. Jesus, the traffic was heavy today.
She glanced at me. ‘Hmm. I have to say that him being a massive arsehole was a factor in reaching this conclusion.’
We started to cross the road. ‘So,’ she continued, ‘you never said – does he have a big dick or what?’
Oh God. I felt my face begin to burn. I knew she’d ask about this eventually.
‘Because if he has a tiny penis, that could also contribute.’
‘He isn’t tiny!’ I insisted, almost defending him. ‘He’s normal-sized.’
‘I mean, Kyle isn’t big—’
My head snapped round to look at her. ‘He isn’t?’
‘Nope,’ she grinned, ‘butdamnhe knows how to work what he has and I’m never sore afterwards.’
In my dream, Kyle was huge. I’m going to have to adjust this mental image now. We reached the other side of the road and I hoped the end of this conversation, but Lucy was still intent on getting me to talk about Frank’s sexual prowess.
