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Deborah stared at him, her face starting to flush with anger.
‘That’s not fair… I can understand how you must be feeling, but——’
‘Can you… can you…?’ Mark interrupted her. ‘Can you understand how it feels when a shit like Ryan stands there smirking at you, gloating… ?’
Deborah didn’t know what to say. His behaviour was so out of character and unfamiliar to her. She could understand his being upset—anyone would have been—but his comments about her… about Ryan… they were not what she had expected to hear from him.
‘It’s only a temporary set-back,’ she told him. ‘Things are bound to pick up, and when they do…’
‘Oh, for God’s sake… Don’t you understand anything? This isn’t just about the recession… It’s…’ He stopped abruptly.
‘It’s about what?’ Deborah pressed him.
Mark shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m tired… I’m going to bed…’
Deborah watched him unhappily. His behaviour was childish and unfair.
‘No,’ she contradicted him quietly. ‘You can’t leave it like that, Mark, and you know it. I am sorry about what’s happened and I felt very hurt this evening hearing about it from Ryan and not from you. I know I’ve been wrapped up in this liquidation, but…’
‘Why shouldn’t you be? After all, you’ve always made it plain enough how important your career is to you.’
Deborah caught her breath at the thinly veiled accusation behind his words. Now her compassion was being overtaken by anger.
‘Yes, it is,’ she agreed firmly. ‘Just as yours is to you. We’ve both of us always known that—and always accepted it until now…’
Mark looked at her. What she had said was true. Until now they had both accepted the importance of the other’s career; until now… until hers had suddenly and unexpectedly overtaken his. He pushed the thought aside quickly. His takeaway meal tasted sour in his mouth—or was it the mean bitterness of his thoughts that was turning his stomach over? How could he admit to her that it was jealousy that was fuelling his fear and sense of failure? How could he admit it to her when he dared not even admit it to himself?
‘I’m sorry,’ he told her wearily. ‘I suppose I am overreacting. Even though I had guessed what might be coming, it was still a bit of a shock…’
‘The recession won’t last forever,’ Deborah comforted him.
He gave her a twisted smile. ‘Don’t tell Ryan that,’ he advised her.
‘What exactly did Peter have to say?’ she pressed him, ignoring his comment.
He told her, while she listened carefully.
‘You’ll only be working in tandem for a year,’ she consoled him when he had finished ‘and by then——’
‘The recession will be over?’ he interrupted her wryly. ‘Stop trying to play Pollyanna, Debs. As a career move it’s hardly likely to show up as a highlight on my c. v., is it, unlike your promotion? Ryan stopped me in the corridor this morning to commiserate with me because I wouldn’t be getting a new company car this time round. He laughed when he told me I could always pretend to people that I’d been allocated yours. A top-of-the-range job, so I hear. Clever girl… What colour have you chosen?’
Deborah stared at him.
‘I haven’t…’ Ryan had mentioned to her that she’d be getting a new company car, but other than register the information she hadn’t given it another thought. She’d been far too busy thinking and worrying about how she was going to handle all the complications of the liquidation…
‘Why don’t you choose one?’ she suggested, trying to lighten his mood.’
‘There’s no need to humour me,’ Mark told her. ‘I’m not a child, Debs…’
No… but you’re coming dangerously close to behaving like one… The words hovered dangerously on her tongue, but she suppressed them. It was natural that he should be feeling upset, and Ryan hadn’t helped, needling him like that. Why did men always have to take such things personally? If their positions had been reversed she knew she would have been just as disappointed as Mark at having her promised promotion withdrawn, but…
She frowned over that mental ‘but’, shying away from the implications of it, the questions it raised.
‘I was looking forward to our having dinner together tonight,’ she said instead, dismissing the thought that she was deliberately trying to placate him, to smooth away his bad feelings in the same way her mother used to take on the responsibility of smoothing away her father’s bad moods. As though she had somehow been responsible for them… as though…
‘I felt awful when I was at the factory today, telling them that they were out of work.’
‘I hope you didn’t tell Ryan that?’
