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In the end, I decide to go for a walk. That’s what people do when they have stuff they need to work through, isn’t it? You always see people in films saying, ‘I’m going for a walk to clear my head.’ I dig out the walking boots that I bought to take on holiday to the Lake District last year, slip my feet into them and lace them up securely. There’s a little bit of dried mud caked on the soles, which immediately flakes off onto the floor, and I stand there for a minute, staring at the flakes stupidly, as if unsure what I’m supposed to do about them. In the end, I leave them where they are and let myself out of the flat; I’ll deal with them when I’ve ‘cleared my head’.
I walk for around an hour, pounding the streets around our flat. I know them well from seeing them out of the bus window, but I’ve rarely walked them. I feel a bit like a tourist; everyday life is going on all around me, but I feel completely disconnected from it. I discover a library that I never even knew was there, as well as a couple of playgrounds with small groups of haggard-looking mothers desultorily pushing their preschool children on the swings.
By the time I get back to the flat, I am feeling a little calmer and, once I’ve swept up the mud flakes with a dustpan and brush, I sit at the breakfast bar and ponder my situation while I eat my packed lunch. There’s nothing from Lee, but I decide to try to appease Ruth a little by replying to her. I type:
I’m really sorry about Lee. I really wanted to tell you, but you know the company rules. I’ll tell you everything when I see you next, promise. And no, I haven’t left to work for Harmony – IT guy is making stuff up. xx
The ticks go blue straight away, and I can see she’s typing a reply.
It’s a pretty massive secret to keep from someone you call a friend, no? It hurts that you didn’t trust me TBH.
OK, so she’s still pissed off. I’m not sure what else I can say, so I just send:
All I can say is how sorry I am, and how I wish I’d been able to tell you myself.
The ticks go blue, but she doesn’t reply. Great. My best friend at work hates me now, even though I haven’t actually done anything wrong. I get that she’s upset, I do, and I would have told her about Lee and me in a heartbeat if I could have been completely sure that she’d keep it a secret, but she knows herself that she’s prone to the occasional indiscretion. There was one particularly awkward time, when she was first going out with Wade, and she completely forgot he was sitting next to her and started demonstrating his orgasm face to me. It took him a long time to get over that, from what I remember. I think about sending her a message to make this point, but I realise that it will probably do more harm than good at this stage. What a mess.
Lee’s mum’s regular joke may yet prove to be prophetic. The idea of murdering Lee has never felt more appealing.
6
Lee finally calls just after eight. I’ve spent most of the afternoon slumped in front of the TV. I can’t tell you any of the programmes, but it’s been strangely comforting to have a background noise to my maelstrom of thoughts. I’ve pretty much convinced myself that there’s an email somewhere they’ll have found that somehow points the finger at me, even though I know I’m completely innocent. At one point, I was sitting in front of some drama set in a doctors’ surgery and I actually tried to understand the story, in case I lost my job and this was going to be my life now. I carefully waited until half past seven before pouring myself a glass of wine; whatever happens with work, daytime drinking is not a path I want to start down. I’ve actually been feeling fairly calm since taking the first soothing mouthful, but the jangle of the ringtone sets all my nerves instantly on edge. I can see that it’s Lee, but I can’t think what to say to him. ‘Hello’ doesn’t seem appropriate, and there’s no way I can go for my usual ‘Hi, love’, so in the end I swipe to answer and say nothing.
‘Ella? Are you there? It’s me, Lee.’
‘I know who it is,’ I reply, flatly.
‘I guess you’ve heard I’m working at Harmony now?’ If I was expecting remorse for my situation, it seems I am to be disappointed. He actually sounds excited. ‘I’d have called earlier and told you myself, only I’ve been in back-to-back meetings and then the guys wanted to take me out to dinner to welcome me on board. It’s an amazing company, Els. Totally different to Orchestra. There’s a real energy about them, like they’re going places, you know? Anyway, you sounded a bit upset earlier. Is everything OK?’
A bit upset? I’ll give him ‘a bit upset’.
‘Oh, everything’s peachy here, sweetheart,’ I tell him, sarcastically. ‘I mean, it was a bit of a surprise finding out from the HR department that my boyfriend, you know, the one I share a flat with and everything, had changed jobs without saying a damned word to me about it but yeah, I’m cool.’
‘I’m so relieved,’ he replies, completely misreading me. ‘I was a bit worried about how you’d react, but I couldn’t say anything because it all had to be completely secret, and I didn’t want to put you in a difficult situation. I knew you’d be OK, though, once you understood, and I think this could actually be really good for us. I was getting disillusioned with Orchestra, you know? The software is seriously out of date, and it was getting harder and harder to believe in it. The Harmony stuff is all web browser-based, it sits on top of a Snowflake database and you just subscribe to the modules you want when you need them. It’s the future, Els. I’m so excited, and I feel like this has given me a whole new lease of life. They’re even talking about a “welcome on board” bonus, so we might be able to look at that holiday in the Caribbean once I’ve completed my probation.’
He’s unbelievable. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’ I ask.
‘What?’
‘You heard me. You see, while you’ve been skipping about with your web-enabled this and your Snowflake that, a truckload of shit has been dumped on me.’
He does at least have the decency to turn off the excited puppy voice. ‘Oh, no. Why?’
‘Didn’t you listen to my voicemail?’
‘Of course I did. Well, I sort of did. I was in a short break between meetings so I kind of speed-listened to it. I got that you were upset about something, but you just said it was OK now.’
I’m on the verge of losing my temper again, so I take a swig of wine to try to calm myself.
‘What is it, Ella? Tell me what happened.’ He’s trying to sound concerned, but something’s distracting him, I can tell. I can hear faint voices in the background.
‘Who else is there?’ I ask, sharply.
‘Just a couple of guys from work; we’re about to head to the bar.’
‘OK, well, don’t let me keep you,’ I reply, so sarcastically now that even he surely can’t miss it. ‘I mean, I’m glad you’re having a good time with your new colleagues. I may be about to lose my job because of you but don’t let that spoil your evening, will you?’
‘Wait, what?’ I’ve finally got his full attention and I hear him telling the other people to go on ahead. ‘What do you mean? Why?’
