Page 7 of The Politician

“A few bruises. Nothing broken.” The woman sipped her drink and looked around her. “I love London this time of day.”

“Me too. The earlier the better. It has a certain kind of serenity about it when there are fewer people on the streets.”

“And a lot less traffic.”

Sarah smiled. The pollution problem in London was one of her biggest challenges, thanks to the High Court ruling to cut emissions faster than industry was able to deliver. Reducing diesel-powered transportation would have some impact, but they needed to do much more than that to hit the EU targets they were still bound to achieving. “Do you live in town?”

“No. Chesham. You?”

“My family are in Belgravia, but I also work in West Yorkshire.”

“I like Yorkshire. I’ve been there on holiday a few times.”

“It’s very pretty.” Sarah stopped at the entrance to Victoria Station. She didn’t want to part company. She opened her mouth and closed it, quashing the idea of giving this stranger her personal details. What was she thinking? She took a deep breath, avoided the woman’s gaze, and stared down at the luminous Converse. “I take the tube here.”

The woman nodded. “It was nice bumping into you.” She blushed.

She looked cute, and her sensitivity was one of the cues Sarah read as the woman having more than a casual interest in her. “Quite literally,” she said.

The woman looked down. “Yeah, sorry about that. I hope your foot is okay.”

“It’ll be fine. I hope your hand isn’t broken.” Sarah watched her wriggle her fingers and heat rose to her cheeks with her vivid imagination.

“See, all good.”

“That’s reassuring.” Sarah hesitated. “I have to go. Maybe I’ll bump into you again sometime. I walk this way every Wednesday morning.” She bit her lip. It was the truth, because she had to be at the House of Commons on Wednesdays, but that wasn’t a fact she should have revealed so quickly. But she had, and now she would have to live with the consequences. She swallowed past the constriction in her throat and unbuttoned her coat at the collar.

The woman toyed with the handle of her scooter. “I’ll keep my eyes open next Wednesday then.”

Sarah turned and started towards the station entrance.

“And thanks for the coffee.”

Sarah turned to say, “You’re welcome,” but couldn’t see the scooter. She stood for a moment, gathering herself from the ridiculous feeling of having just made a pass at a woman this close to home. She set off again and was slowed by the ache in her foot. She walked into the concourse at Victoria Station with the image of luminous footwear in her mind’s eye, hoping their paths would cross again next Wednesday.

4.

KENDRA STARED UP ATthe three-storey Victorian townhouse, with its sash windows and solid wood, white door. The Christmas wreath and the fairy lights in the windows that had been there when she’d come for an interview were long gone, so the house had a dreary appearance. It was a grand building, but the wooden frames and black metal railings that protected the below-pavement level needed some serious renovation. And all the windows could have done with a good clean. What a thankless task. Passing traffic would redistribute the grot and dirt from the road by the end of the day. She hoped her new job was going to be more inspiring than the building and that there was a courtyard garden at the rear of the house. She could dream up a makeover for it.

She thought about her earlier encounter as she folded her scooter, and her mouth was dry as she approached the door. She wasn’t nervous about the job, but she was pretty sure that the woman she’d bumped into half an hour ago was Sarah Thompson, her new boss. Her hair was styled differently than she’d seen in the pictures of her on the Internet, and she’d imagined her to be taller and not as slender. The gentleness in her demeanour, which was the opposite of her hard reputation, caused Kendra to question her instincts. It was too much of a coincidence. There must be lots of women with a similar appearance. But that wasn’t the only reason she’d felt awkward. She’d stumbled over her words because the woman was sexy as hell and that had thrown her off-kilter.

If shehadjust bumped into her boss, the next few hours could be more than a little awkward. Still, she hoped it was the shadow environment minister. She’d warmed to her instantly. Sarah had shown genuine concern and not given Kendra a hard time for scootering on the footpath, which she could have. Instead, she’d bought Kendra a coffee and they’d chatted easily once Kendra’s nerves had settled.

Malee would never believe her morning; she’d call her later and update her. She took a deep breath, turned the door handle, and entered the building.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“I’m Kendra.” She spotted the line of photographs pinned to the wall. Of all the members of the Independent party who held key positions, she was drawn to Sarah’s smile. It was definitely her who had upended Kendra and her scooter.Fuck.She stumbled over her thoughts, took check of her libido, and tried to remember her surname.

“Mallick,” the receptionist said. She slid a badge across the desk. “Looks just like you.” She pointed to an open book and pen.

“That’s definitely me.” She cleared her throat and signed in.

The receptionist peered over the top of her glasses and smiled. “Head up the stairs. First floor. Jeremy is expecting you.”

Kendra nodded. She knew where Jeremy’s office was because he’d greeted her at the door when she’d arrived for interview and taken her straight there. “Can I leave this somewhere?” she asked, holding up the scooter.

“The room at the back. You’ll find a spot in there.”

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