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“That’s weird because that’s exactly what Jamal said on my last appraisal.” I smile. “It’s like you were there.”
“Seriously, what are you doing here?” Her face hardens.
“I was passing and thought I’d drop in to check the rota for tomorrow.”
“You don’t know when you’re working?” she says.
“I know when I am working,” I reply, stressing the I.
“Let me guess,” Taylor huffs. “You want to know what Mr Moody Pants is working?”
“Correct, and don’t call him Mr Moody Pants.”
“But he is.” She raises an eyebrow. “I’ve seen him twice today. The first time, I said hello, and he ignored me, and the second, he looked like he wanted to punch someone.”
“He has good reason,” I tell her.
Taylor eyes me.
“His dog passed away on Friday.”
There’s a beat where I think Taylor is going to say, “So?” or “And?” and I’m already balling my fist, ready to argue that dogs are people too. But instead, she places her hand on her heart and says, “Oh God, that’s terrible. I remember when Teddy died, our first family dog. I was twelve at the time, but God, it left such a hole in our house. My mum never got another dog because she just couldn’t face losing one again. The poor guy.”
I inwardly sigh. “Yeah. He’s taken it pretty hard.”
“I feel bad now.” Taylor clutches her heart still.
“You weren’t to know.”
“I’ll try to be extra nice to him when I see him next time. Speaking of which, you want to know what he’s working tomorrow?”
“Please.”
Taylor flips through the paper copy of the schedule. “He’s on an early shift, same as you.”
“Great. Thank you.”
“Operation Wedding still going ahead?” she asks, and my stomach sinks.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t brought it up since Friday. I don’t think it’s high on his list of priorities at the moment,” I tell her.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Two weeks away.”
“Yeah, better not to mention it until nearer the time. You never know, it might help take his mind off things.”
“Maybe. And thanks for the inside info and the mini appraisal. I’ll work on the things you’ve said.”
“You’d better. I’m not in tomorrow, but I’ll see you midweek.”
I salute before leaving the building and heading to my car, wondering what Owen will make of my new little project when I see him tomorrow.
43
Owen
Sundays have always felt sacrilegious when I’ve had to work, but yesterday, I couldn’t have been more relieved to head into the office.
