Rachel felt almost as though she were seeing him for the first time. It was as if he were empty: a beautiful shell that she knew was hollow inside. He was a luxury Easter egg.
‘I guess you’ve heard some pretty unflattering things about me over the past few days,’ Jack said, eyeing her across the divide between their workstations. No one else from their team was in yet, and he’d apparently decided to seize this opportunity to speak to Rachel alone – to try to countermand the bad press he’d received in his absence.
‘I’m not sure that’s how I’d describe them,’ Rachel said, taking care to sound as detached as possible. ‘Unflatteringimplies that you’ve been misrepresented in some way.’
‘Clara – my soon-to-be ex-wife – has gone out of her way to make trouble. To make me look like the bad guy who’s responsible for our break-up. I’m sorry you got mixed up in that. I didn’t intend to start pursuing you, Ryan … It was more that I couldn’t help myself, especially as we were thrown together so much.’ He stared at her through his thick, dark lashes and flashed her a rueful smile worthy of an Emmy Award winner. ‘You’re a special kind of irresistible, you know. You always were.’
‘D’you know what I’ve realised, Jack?’ Rachel asked. ‘You’re an arch-manipulator partly because you’re neverentirelydishonest. There’s always at least a shred of truth in whatever story you spin – you manage to convince even yourself that what you’re saying isn’t a lie, that what you’re doing isn’t deceitful. It gives you a very light touch. You’re credible even when you’re deliberately distorting things, because you feel no guilt.’
‘Ryan, look at me. I’m not spinning anything right now. I’m telling you honestly that, in spite of what you may have heard, my feelings for you are genuine.’
‘I don’t doubt that they are, on some level. But following them was also pretty useful for you, right? Stirring up a little office-romance drama allowed you to keep your hand in at home. You expected that, eventually, Clara would cave in and ask you to go back – or I’d cave in and agree tohaveyou back. You were hedging your bets, and you thought you’d win either way. Your big mistake was underestimating Donna, wasn’t it? She embellished too much – spread more stories full of out-and-out lies than you ideally wanted. More than you realised. Then you played the Instagram card and your wife totally flipped – but not in the way you expected. She made you go back up there to finalise the split, didn’t she? Not to call off the divorce. My guess is that’s the only reason you’re back here.’
Rachel turned her face away from him and began typing an email.
‘It isn’t like that,’ Jack said – but his teeth were clamped together and his eyes had darkened. He looked uncomfortable. Defensive.
‘Oh, I think it is,’ Rachel said coolly, still focused on her laptop.
Jack was silent for a few minutes, as if he was trying to regroup – reviewing the situation before he chose his next tack.
The moment she sensed he was ready to launch a new charm offensive she said, ‘Do you want to know the one thing that I’ll never forgive you for? It isn’t that you cheated on me, or tried to convince me it was somehow my own fault. It isn’t that you showed up here knowing I worked for the agency, then claimed it was all a big surprise. It’s not that you had a hand in us being put on the same team. It’s not even that you came so close to making me fall for you again. What I will never forgive you for is lying to me about Lighthouse. I remember you promising me that you didn’t “engineer” the situation – that you didn’t ask for us to be put on the account, or play any part in how Isaac decided to staff it. But that’s not true, is it? Something felt weird about that first day Olivia came in, and it wasn’t just that she was early. You were uneasy – and when you first went over to speak with her, you sent me off to fetch Isaac and Greg. I remember seeing you with her and thinking,Howhas he managed to get her chatting so easily? She’d barely said two words to me. Then, when Greg and I met her on Monday, she asked after you. That struck me as pretty odd since she’s such a cold fish. I spoke to your boss that evening, you know.’
Jack’s lips fell apart at this, and his green eyes flickered with reluctant understanding.
‘I told him how things had been between us since January – about how you’d won my trust by being there for me while we worked on a project I found challenging. He let slip that you’d been key to even getting a pitching slot for Lighthouse, not to mention winning the account; something about a family connection. And it fell into place then. My guess is, she’s your aunt.’
Jack clenched his jaw, unwittingly emphasising its resemblance to Olivia Mason’s. ‘Yes, she’s my father’s sister. I helped to bring her in, but we both wanted to keep things professional – not difficult as she’s hardly the touchy-feely type. I didn’t know for sure that I –we– would end up on the project if we won the pitch, but of course there was a good chance.’
‘Congratulations, Jack,’ Rachel said, nodding at him in approval that was half-sarcastic, half-sincere. ‘That might be the first completely honest thing you’ve said to me in more than six months.’
Jack’s face, usually so inscrutable, betrayed his displeasure. He looked defeated, and Rachel couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry.
‘Morning, Jack – I didn’t know you were coming back today. Morning,Rachel,’ Donna said, from behind Rachel’s chair. ‘Isaac’s just called the main switch. He’s asked you to pop around the corner to Java Jo’s, Jack. Soon as you can.’
Jack’s eyebrows floated further up into his forehead than Rachel had ever seen them go before. He breathed a loud, exasperated sigh, pushed his chair back with a clatter and stamped away.
‘So,’ Donna hissed at Rachel once the office door had swung shut, ‘not content with trying to get your claws in while he and his wife were on a break, you’ve gone and got him sacked.’
She looked almost deranged, her eyes tight with contempt.
‘I’ve no idea what Isaac’s going to say to him,’ Rachel informed her. ‘But everything I’ve told him and Jack’s boss is true – and therefore nowhere near as exciting as the version of events you’ve been sharing with anyone who’ll listen. What did I everdoto you, Donna? Did I tread on your foot at some point while we were queuing for the printer? Did I accidentally steal your biro during a meeting? Or do you just hate anyone who seems a little less miserable than you are? I’ve actually had a stupendously shit year so far. But unlike you, I don’t delight in making other people feel crap. I could never feel better for making someone else’s situation worse. If Jack ends up leaving, I want you to know, you had a far greater hand in losing him his job than I did. In fact – you’re going tolovethis – your relentless shit-stirring has actually helped me out enormously. So thanks, Donna. You go and have yourself a lovely day.’
With that, Rachel swung her chair around and resumed work.
It was over a fortnight now since Tom had gone to Belfast, and Rachel had only heard from him once. She’d messaged him to apologise for their fight after the photo shoot and said there was more she wanted to tell him, if he was prepared to listen.
He wasn’t.
Tom:I can’t get into this right now … Can we talk when I get back?
She’d sent two texts after that – casual ‘how are you getting on’ messages that weren’t really casual at all. He hadn’t responded, which was agonising. He was due back in London in less than a week, and Rachel had no idea what happened then. Giving her the silent treatment would be pretty difficult for Tom if they were sitting opposite one another at the Hope – so would he go out of his way to avoid seeing her, never mind speaking to her, once he was home?
The exhibition press event was scheduled for the night of his return, and Rachel didn’t want to ruin it for him by turning up with things still unresolved. She was planning to stay away, but the thought of missing it made her feel sick. MissingTomwas making her feel sick.
Since they’d first met four years ago, they’d never gone so long without seeing or speaking to one another. Rachel hadn’t realised how much she relied on his calm, steady presence in her life – how much she looked forward to Friday evenings, or how much she valued her certainty that, if she needed him, he’d find a way to be there for her.
She hadn’t appreciated how much she enjoyed being with him either – how interesting and clever he was, or how well he understood her, how many times a week she messaged him just to share things she knew they’d both find funny.
