I left the menfolk to make their golfing plans, found my coat and made my way towards the front porch, preferring to shiver on the doorstep than engage in any further conversation with strangers or run the risk of bumping into Tiggy and Felicity. While I waited for the taxi, my face lit up like a Belisha beacon by the flashing neon woodland creatures, I contemplated the events of the evening and how, as a woman, you never really grow out of that desperate desire to be liked, or that overwhelming fear of rejection by your peers. Thinking back to my own experiences at university, and latterly with some of the school mums I’d met, Layla’s current issues with her flatmates, Carol’s efforts to ingratiate herself with Tiggy and Felicity, and even Mum’s insecurities in her search for love, I realised that the only woman I know who doesn’t spend her every waking momentworrying about what other people think of her is my sister-in-law, Jaqueline. Maybe we all need to take a leaf out of her book.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Hattie, there’s a call for you,’ Colin said, his head appearing around the corner of the stacks. ‘David took it but said I’m faster, so he sent me to find you.’ He took a gulp of air after having evidently rushed to get me.
‘A call?’ I patted my pocket for my phone before remembering that I was wearing another annoyingly pocketless dress. ‘On my mobile?’
‘No, at the main desk,’ he said importantly.
‘Gosh,’ I said, rising from my crouched position with a creak. ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever heard that phone actually ring.’
‘It does,’ said Colin. ‘I just heard it. It made me jump when I was scanning Mrs Catherine Foster’s books.’
‘Right,’ I followed him back to the desk.
‘Found her,’ said Colin. David had the receiver to his ear and was laughing at something the person on the other end of the line was saying as he beckoned me over.
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘I always prefer a landline too, truth be told…’ He nodded. ‘Yes, exactly! Anyway, here she is.’ He handed me the phone, and I gave him a quizzical look.
‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Harriet,’ said my mother briskly. ‘About time.’
‘Well, sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m working. You’ve called me on the library phone.’
‘Yes, I realise that. You weren’t answering your mobile.’
‘Sorry, it’s in the office. I haven’t got any pockets.’ I paused, wondering why I was apologising. ‘Are you okay? Has something happened? Is it Layla?’
‘No, no, no. Nothing like that. Don’t panic.’
‘So, what is it, Mum?’ I said, my heart rate returning to normal. ‘It’s just I think this phone is only really supposed to be used for library-related matters – or emergencies. Not for a general chat.’
‘Well, it is something of an emergency,’ she said crossly. ‘And I rather wanted your help. The thing is, I think I might have gonorrhoea.’
‘Gonorrhoea?!’ I said, far too loudly for a library environment.
David raised his eyebrows a tiny fraction and I mouthed an apology at him and the customer he was serving as I attempted to retreat around a corner. The problem was that the phone reception started to cut out as soon as I was more than a metre away from the docking port so I couldn’t escape entirely.
‘Why do you think that?’ I asked a little more quietly.
‘Sorry dear, I can’t hear you?’
‘Why. Do. You. Think. That?’ I said, enunciating each word as distinctly as possible.
‘I had a phone call from Armando.’
‘Armando?’ I said, racking my brain. ‘The retired chef?’
‘Yes, him. Turns out he has it. And the clinic told him to inform all previous sexual partners.’
‘But I thought you just went out for dinner with him a few times?’
‘Well, dinner and a drink, and one thing leads to another, you know… Anyway…’ She was brisk again. ‘I need to go to the sexual health clinic, and I’d like you to come with me.’
‘Have you, uhm, have you got an appointment?’ I said faintly, trying to focus on practicalities to stop myself shoutingsexual health clinicin front of the small queue of people now waiting to check their books out.
‘No. It’s adrop-inapparently. I’ve checked online. You just turn up. All very casual.’
