Jonno strolls into the bar. ‘Nella!’ he shouts. ‘Another dry white for my partner in crime?’
He sounds as if he’s reading from a script. Which means Vandi put him up to this.
‘Who are you with?’ Rich asks sharply – exactly the reaction she wanted, no doubt.
‘Vandi and some friends of hers. I should probably go.’ I’m angry with him, but I’m not comfortable play-acting.
‘Before you go,’ says Rich quickly, ‘I thought you should know I told Charles. And for the record, he’s furious with me.’
‘Great, so now I have to worry about Charles blabbing to the rest of the clinic.’
‘He won’t. I promise.’
Charles’s inability to keep shtum can be exasperating, but I know when the chips are down, I can count on him.
‘Are you staying at your parents?’ Rich asks. ‘Will you wish them a happy anniversary from me on Thursday?’
I’m surprised he’s remembered because usually I have to remind him.
‘At least you won’t have to make up a flimsy excuse not to come – an emergency with your brother or a work appointment you can’t get out of.’
‘I wasn’t that bad, was I?’
‘When was the last time you saw them?’
He pauses. ‘I’ll do better in future. I promise.’
‘You used the F-word.’
‘I’m sorry?’ He sounds confused.
‘The future. I’m not sure we have one.’
‘Is there a tiny chance you might change your mind, one day?’
Jonno is approaching with my wine, no doubt about to enact part two of Vandi’s revenge drama.
‘I need to go,’ I tell Rich.
I hang up before he has a chance to respond.
Chapter 17
I dress carefully for my first day back at the office, choosing a black shift dress, nude kitten heels and crimson lipstick. My hair is in its usual high ponytail, but I add a black and white polka-dot scarf around my hairband. I want to look smart, sleek and put-together, but not for Rich. I’m doing it so everyone at the office can tell I am absolutely fucking fine.
The possibility that others might have known about Rich’s infidelity before I did makes me cringe. Lucy could easily have told someone. Maybe Juliet? They always seemed close. If the gods are smiling on me, it will be Mandeep, Lucy’s replacement, working today. She’s been here a week and I’m not sure she ever knew Rich and I were together.
My luck holds up – itisMandeep at reception. I don’t hang around, though. I head straight to my office, and once inside, I turn the lock and lean against the door, waiting for my breathing to slow down.
The brass plaque announcing me as The Heart Doctor is still sitting on my desk. It’s been four days since Charles gave it to me, four days since I saw that text on Rich’s phone, four days that feel like four months.
Some heart doctor I am. Charles should go and get his money back.
I put the brass plaque in a drawer, water my aspidistra, and straighten the cushions on the sofa. I pour two glasses of water, leave them on the low coffee table and open a new box of tissues.
My pre-patient routine helps to switch me into professional mode. Heartsore Nella has left the building, and Doctor Praxitelis is about to take the stage.
My first clients are Clive (formerly Chlamydia Clive) and Chantelle, his latest fiancée. She’ll be wife number three if they make it to the altar. Although, in this case, the altar will be a Bermudan beach because Catholic Clive blew his one chance to marry in a church when he was twenty.
