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Instead of going in the opposite direction as he had intended to do, he turned, his loping stride taking him towards her.
She was still fussing around with her handbag. Typical of a woman, Oliver thought as he reached her and said her name, putting his hand on her arm as he did so.
Oliver! Ella’s open handbag slipped from her suddenly numb fingers, disgorging its contents onto the sidewalk.
Immediately she was bending down, ignoring the dizziness caused by her sudden descent, frantically trying to collect her belongings, but Oliver had squatted down in front of her and his hands were quicker than hers, and bigger, enabling him to gather things up with more speed than she could.
She really was incredibly sexy now, Oliver decided smugly, thanks to him. Already he could feel his body responding to her proximity. Mentally he weighed up the chances of persuading her to share a farewell fuck with him, his mouth curling into the smile he would use to begin coaxing her. He had her purse in his hand, and her lipstick, along with some pieces of paper, one of which had a business card stapled to it. Idly he turned them over, and scanned what was written on it. He had always been a nosy sod, according to his mother.
The words, once read and understood, became a physical force that swung the world off its axis, before it shuddered jarringly back again. He looked from the pregnancy test result he was still holding, to Ella’s white face.
‘You’re pregnant.’
There was no point denying it. Not with him holding the evidence in his hand.
‘Yes,’ Ella agreed, as they both stood up. ‘It was an accident. I don’t know how it happened.’
When Oliver gave her a disbelieving look, she insisted, ‘I was on the pill. It shouldn’t have happened. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m having a…a termination. It’s all arranged.’
‘You’re getting rid of it?’
His forthright words made her flinch, and want to cover her still flat stomach protectively with her hand, but she managed to resist doing so as she confirmed, ‘Yes.’
‘And this is the doctor who’s doing it?’ Oliver demanded.
‘Yes. Not that it’s any concern of yours.’
She was beginning to feel shaky and close to tears. She couldn’t let him see her crying, as though…as though what had happened between them meant something when it hadn’t meant anything at all.
Not trusting herself to say any more, Ella sidestepped him and then almost ran the rest of the way to the Vogue building, not daring to look back, and only relaxing once she had reached the comparative safety of her office. It was only then that she realised that she had left her pregnancy confirmation and D and C appointment card with Oliver. Not that it mattered. She was hardly likely to forget the date and time, was she?
How could she have been so reckless and rash? Rose’s hand shook as she touched her newly cut hair. Its shortness still felt strange after wearing Josh’s long bob for so long. It was too late to regret what she had done now. What had been done could not be undone. There was bound to be comment–and criticism–questions asked, and feelings hurt because of her secrecy, but right up until the last minute she had not been convinced that it would actually happen and that she would go through with it. But then Josh had rung to say that he needed to see her urgently about something that Patsy had told him, and that had tipped her over the edge–or rather, her pride had seized her by the hand and dragged her over it–and she had made her decision. Maybe she would regret it but at least it would protect her from the humiliation of being told by Josh that he was really sorry that she loved him but that he loved Patsy.
The palms of her hands felt damp. He would be here any minute.
Would he come alone or would Patsy be with him? Would he–they–accuse her again of clinging to him out of pitiful unrequited love? If so, she had her answer ready.
Josh arrived five minutes later, taking the stairs to her workroom two at a time. Mercifully, he was alone. She could tell it was two at a time because of the sound of his feet on the stairs and because that was the way he always took them. Like an early warning system, it gave her time to prepare, time to compose her face into a smile that was friendly but not loving, warm but not tender, welcoming but not needy.
She stood up as he came into the room, watching him as he came to a halt several yards away from her.
‘I’ve got something important to tell you.’
He hadn’t noticed her hair.
‘If it’s about the partnership—’
‘Fuck the partnership,’ he interrupted her.
Her heart was racing, which wasn’t good, and neither was the familiar ache of sweetness and vulnerability flowering inside her in all its helpless, insidious treachery.
‘I’m not going to America.’
The shock was almost a physical blow, sending her reeling back from what it might mean. She tried to sound normal.
‘Patsy won’t be very pleased about that.’
‘Fuck Patsy as well,’ Josh stated. ‘Don’t you want to know why I’ve changed my mind?’
