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“Are we overdressed?” Charlie looked down at her tailored trousers and silk shirt. She fingered the knot around her neck and scanned the sea of cocktail dresses.
“Do we care, boss?” Joshua hooked his thick arm through hers and led her through the revolving doors to a three-storey atrium.
They got into an elevator, and Charlie breathed on the glass walls and drew a Christmas tree with her finger. “And relax,” she said, closing her eyes against the fluorescent lamps above their heads. She couldn’t wait to kick off her boots and down a cold beer.
When they reached the third floor, a dance soundtrack pumped out of the offices, and she smiled at the rowdy voices and unbuckled laughter. They tumbled, arm-in-arm into a steel and concrete foyer. Joshua took her coat and left her for a moment, and she walked towards a glass wall. There were three or four rooms, usually the scene of serious business. Tonight, the office chairs were strewn with half-naked upper limbs, and tabletops were covered with redundant beer bongs and greasy pizza boxes.
Charlie wandered through a corridor, observing the scene like an urban still life. Her edges were fuzzy from no food and plenty of champagne. Her head throbbed, and she forced another breath from deep in her lungs, feeling her shoulders relax as she shook off the binds of corporate entertaining.
Charlie caught sight of a familiar figure nestled on a sofa at the edge of the main conference room, her head tipped back, laughing. Charlie remained motionless as delight surged through her and heat crept across her neck.
She met Elda’s eyes, marched across the carpet, and pulled her into her arms. It was like a second hadn’t passed between them. “Wow, look at you,” Charlie said with uncensored volume. “When did you get here? Are you back for Christmas?”
“I’m back,” Elda said, “forever.”
They locked eyes as Charlie tried to understand what was happening, and Elda looked like she was trying to explain everything without speaking. They burst into laughter, and Charlie’s cheeks stretched in a smile that mirrored Elda’s. “What now?” Charlie hadn’t planned any further than midnight, but she saw a whole new path stretch out before her.
“Drink?” Elda held out her hand, and Charlie followed her to the makeshift bar in the corner.
Hours passed, and Joshua had long since escaped. Jack scraped plastic cups and cold crusts into a black bag. The turntables had been taken over by two apprentices, and they were entertaining dwindling numbers on a dance floor that had no distinguishing features from the rest of the carpet tiles.
A pile of coats, thrown over a couple of office chairs, was fast diminishing, and mismatched folk were snaking away, arm-in-arm, their loud singing voices fading.
Elda had draped her legs over Charlie on the blue oversized sofa in reception. They’d fashioned a couple of cushions earlier with some jackets and had sunk down together.
“Didn’t Francis try to stop you?” Charlie screwed her eyes up as thoughts darted around her head. It had taken a couple of hours to dissect the last couple of weeks, but Charlie kept asking the same question in different ways.
“No. I think he knew that we weren’t really there for the same reasons, and I was beginning to feel like a spare part.”
Elda pulled at the soft hairs at the back of her neck and Charlie had to sit on her hands, so she didn’t reach out and join her.
“I was an accessory in his very busy schedule. I’d uprooted my life to chase a fantasy. It was all a bit pointless.” Elda rubbed her arms as if she was giving herself a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”
“Why didn’t you? I’d have come straight round.” Charlie sipped at her beer, wanting to know why Elda hadn’t come running back to her. But she was paralysed with fear. She didn’t want to know that Elda hadn’t thought of Charlie as regularly as she had.
“I wanted to get myself together before I saw you.” Her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“Like what?” Charlie screwed up her nose.
“I just don’t want to come across as a bit of a loser. You have your shit together, and I clearly don’t.” She shook her head, and a shadow of regret passed across her face. “I just want to find a job and get back on track. I feel like the last few weeks have been a complete waste of time and money.”
“You haven’t failed at anything.” She tried to cut through Elda’s self-doubt. “This isn’t a project that you had to keep on track at all costs. This is just life throwing things at you. You don’t have to be perfect at everything.” Charlie held the warmth of Elda’s knees on her lap and rubbed her legs through the denim. “I’m glad you’re back.”
Elda looked up and sighed. Charlie thought she’d made it up, but there it was, the connection between them. She willed herself not to look away first but didn’t trust her body not to melt into Elda’s arms. She turned her head just as Elda’s intense gaze became too much to bear.
***
By Monday, the hangover was wearing off. Charlie leaned into her swivel chair and took her feet off the ground. She shivered. It was an old building, with heat escaping from every crevice and crack. Nothing about it flowed, and the rooms were all shapes and sizes. Her office was at the end of a corridor, with a tall window looking out towards the city. Elda’s old mill building was in her eye line every time she scanned the horizon. It was a constant reminder of the gaping hole she was trying to fill with work.
Charlie surveyed her office. She had stepped into the shoes of a retired old guy, but she’d been busy filling those shoes. She stroked the curves of her oak desk. Her closed laptop sat on top, dwarfed by a tower of loose papers. Against her desk leaned a dusty yoga mat and a skinny roll of Christmas paper. Both were frayed at the edges. She’d been distracted by Elda these past few months and let her routine suffer.
She reached for the photo of her with Theresa in her arms and smiled at the memory. That had been a day of discovering new places and new feelings. She stroked the flat image of Theresa and remembered the sun on her hair and face, catching on her eyebrow piercing. Charlie’s heart still ached with loss when she thought about how much she loved her, even now, seventeen years later.
Charlie’s gaze rested on the black suit hanging on her office door, and she pushed away the memory. She had to get on with what was right in front of her. She shuffled beneath her desk to find a pair of heels for court. After slipping them on, she stood and checked herself.
She forced her top drawer open and reached for her diary. Pages were folded over and scribbled on. She was ordered and disciplined with her schedule, but along the margins she wrote things to remember from her day, ambiguous case notes, and reminders. On several pages she’d underlined the words “CALL ELDA.”
There was a knock, and Joshua came in.
