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‘I only left yesterday. Isn’t that a bit insensitive?’ I look at her disapprovingly.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you moved out of your home, without warning, and without telling your fiancé; but you’re worried that going for some post-work drinks with your colleagues is insensitive?’
She has a point. ‘I want to stay away from the office gossip and politics.’
‘They gossip about you anyway. They already think you’re stuck-up; however, your limited wardrobe stops them from being too harsh.’ Lara chuckles as she waves her fork at my jeans, white Oxford shirt, boots and jacket.
‘Wow, Ireallywant to come now.’
‘Come on. Make them feel like you’re a part of the team. Maybe, for once, I won’t have to make up more stories about your ugly boyfriend.’
‘Jasper isn’t ugly!’
‘I know that. But they needed a reason to feel superior. Telling them you’re engaged to some hot, super-nice, loaded bloke that worships the ground you walk on wasn’t going to help.’ She pops a steamed parcel in her mouth and licks her fingers.
‘I’ll come for one drink, for the team.’
‘Three drinks minimum, and—’ Lara winces.
‘What?’
‘You’re going to need to tone “you” down. Don’t ask for their fine wine list, a gin that no one has heard of or a specific tonic water. Think of ice-drowned cosmos, vodka-cranberries, and diluted Tanqueray-tonics as your hazing. You have a lot of human ground to make up.’
‘Great, I can’t wait.’ I clap sarcastically and Lara rolls her eyes.
‘Honestly, I don’t know why I bother. Saving you from social suicide is thankless and futile. Have you always been this difficult?’
‘Absolutely.’ I laugh as Lara throws a wooden chopstick at me.
After lunch, I am finally able to focus, push Jasper to the back of my mind and get stuck into work. When a package arrives for me at the end of the day, I unwrap it quickly, expecting it to be one of the many samples we regularly receive. Inside, I find a shoebox and my heart sinks so fast, I feel like I am going to fall through the floor. My Hunter wellies. There is a note inside with Jasper’s beautifully scrawled and uneven handwriting.
You left these behind.
That’s it. He doesn’t want to talk, he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to know. We are done. I am on my own, and it’s all my fault. I left in the most horrible way possible. He would have come home to silence, discovered that cowardly note and found all my things gone. I deserve this, I really do.
I start an email to him and delete it halfway through. Then I start a text. That doesn’t go well either. Then I think maybe I’ll call. In the end, like the hideous, awful person I am, I do nothing.
I look around the office and find that it’s already half-deserted, so I dial Lara’s extension. I have nothing left to lose.
‘Shall we?’
‘Just wrapping up. I’ll get you in five.’
Lara grabs my arm as we enter the busy bar around the corner from work, and tells me to smile. Tensely, through clenched teeth, I do as I am told. She orders us a couple of tequila shots, which we down quickly, and follows them up with two long double vodka and cranberries. Not long after we arrive some girls from our floor, and others I don’t recognise, make their way over.
‘Hi, Lara.’ One of the girls gives Lara a hug.
‘Hey, girls, Ariella’s joining tonight.’
‘Great!’ she says, turning to me. ‘I’m Ash. It’s good to finally see you find the time to come out.’
I ignore the subtle dig. ‘Thanks. It’s good to be out. Do you work for Ivory Bow?’
‘Yes, in PR. We actually share some clients.’ She looks a little annoyed.
‘Which ones?’
‘DigitalFinger and Betabounce.’
