My breath stilled. Did he just use my feelings about Simon against me? The fuckingcheekof the man. He knew nothing about Simon. I had a hundred comebacks, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of rising to his bait.
‘Why don’t we stick to talking about Jonny?’ I said, my voice even.
He paused, presumably weighing up his options. ‘Can you make seven a.m.? You’ll be done by eight and then you can get to your office at your normal time.’
Why did his reasonableness annoy me? Oh yes, because I couldn’t trust him. ‘And what about Marcie?’
‘Within the week.’
I blew out a breath, frustrated at yet more vague promises. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
He was silent for a couple of moments. ‘I won’t let you down.’
We’d see about that.
*
I tried to get on with the day, but I still couldn’t decide how much to trust Nick. So, I rang the only other person who could help: Patrick. I was in luck because he was round the corner in John Lewis buying a new set of suitcases.
‘Could we maybe meet for a coffee?’ I said. ‘I won’t take up too much time, I promise.’
‘Of course, Zoë, dear,’ he said. ‘I’ve always got time for you, and I could do with a second opinion.’
We met in the cafeteria on the top floor where I found him at a table by a window overlooking Oxford Street.
‘You’re looking great, Pat,’ I said, kissing him on the cheek before sitting down. ‘Retirement obviously agrees with you.’
He pointed to the half-eaten slice of cake in front of him. ‘No, it’s the chocolate that agrees with me.’ He sighed. ‘I’m going a bit mad trying to keep busy,’ he admitted. ‘I’m packing up the flat before we go to Crete, but all my cases are falling apart.’
‘All that time on the road, Pat,’ I said.
‘I hate to get rid of them. They’re like a record of my life – every knock, scratch and tear tells a story.’
‘Like the time you were in Cupertino for a meeting with Apple and your case fell open in the lobby of their space-ageHQ.’
Pat smiled. ‘Oh God, the look on Steve’s face when he saw I had more condoms than clothes in my bag. He wanted to run for the hills!’
‘Not what most people bring to their meetings with tech giants.’
‘I’d come straight from the airport. The flight had been delayed, I was jet-lagged and my breath stank because the only thing I’d eaten for twenty-four hours were Twiglets, owing to an enormous hangover I’d been nursing since Heathrow.’
I grinned. ‘You need to write your memoirs, Pat.’
He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Ah, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy about so many things, Zoë, I wouldn’t be able to put in any of the good stuff.’
‘You’ll have to share some of those secrets with me one day.’
He winked. ‘I’m sure when you come over to the vineyard, and the wine’s loosened my tongue, you won’t be able to stop me.’
He took a sip of his tea. ‘So, what’s going on with you, Zoë? You sounded quite perturbed on the phone. Is this about your new beau?’
I shook my head. ‘No, this is a work thing, I’m afraid. I wanted your advice on Marcie’s new publicist. I can’t get a handle on him and my instincts are all over the place. His name is Nick Jones – he was at your party that night.’
A small frown creased his brow. ‘There were so many people at the party and I’m afraid I didn’t get to speak to all of them.’
I was so sure Pat would know him that I was thrown.
‘But you must have met him before,’ I said, smiling. ‘Come on, Pat. You know everyone.’
