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Come on. Either go inside or go home.
That was easier said than done. She’d thought that turning up for the first session of the group she’d joined had been difficult, but going back for a second time had been harder. And now the third seemed impossible.
Juno did it. Jamie did it.
They’d had Euan, though. She had a rather vague middle-aged man, who seemed to do nothing but listen to what everyone said, and nod.
But his was the name that Euan had given her, the one she’d entered into her phone and then forgotten about until sadness had turned to resolve, and then hardened into determination. She’d made it through two sessions. If she lasted another two without smashing something, she’d be surprised, but she had to try.
A knock on the car window made her jump. Will, the group leader, was there. ‘You’re early. Would you like to come in and help make the tea?’
Not particularly. Sam didn’t want to drink tea, or make tea, and she definitely didn’t want to be here, or to talk to Will or anyone else. She wanted to go home.
But she’d promised Euan once that she’d try this, and now she’d promised herself. She gave Will a smile, got out of the car and locked it, and walked with him across the car park and into the hall.
* * *
In the three months since Sam had first set foot in the Driftwood Drugs Initiative’s offices, things had been moving fast. Joe had taken over the installation at Driftwood, and David had reported back that it was already a success. The Centre was also using the program, along with six other drugs charities. There were seven more charities that had expressed an interest, and one of the sector newspapers had contacted Sam, asking for an interview.
She looked around her London office one last time. Everything was just so. Her desk was tidy, the fingermarks had been polished off the glass coffee table, and the four brightly upholstered easy chairs were arranged around it. Through the glass partition, which looked out into the main office, Joe’s workspace was unusually clutter-free, and hopefully the two empty desks that stood alongside it would be filled by the end of the day. Before she started on job interviews, though, she had a visit from a client.
The intercom buzzed, and the security guard’s voice crackled through the small loudspeaker. ‘Visitor. Some charity or the other. He’s comin’ up, anyway.’
‘Thanks, Frank.’
Sam took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and waited for David to climb the stairs.
* * *
She was wearing a shade of dark red that Euan couldn’t quite give a name to but which suited her colouring perfectly. The dress was businesslike, but however discreetly it followed her curves it still couldn’t disguise them.
Sam was different. Her hair in a loose chignon, rather than clipped tightly to the back of her head. Her make-up a shade more natural. The overall effect was less like an attempt at a disguise, and a lot more like a beautiful woman, dressing to please herself.
‘Euan.’ She looked as if she’d just seen a ghost. If she was going to faint, he’d have to move quickly to reach her in time to catch her.
She didn’t faint. He should have known that Sam was made of sterner stuff than that. Instead, she drew herself up to her full height. ‘You’re not David.’
‘No, I’m not.’
She looked around wildly, as if she was trying to think who else he might not be. He noticed that one of her hands was trembling, her fingers clutching at empty air.
‘Sam, I...’ He took a step forward and she backed away. ‘Sam, I’m sorry if I’ve given you a shock, but I want to talk to you. Please.’
She gave him a small nod. ‘Come into my office.’
He followed her, keeping his distance. At least she hadn’t thrown something at him, or refused to speak to him, or called the security guard from downstairs to eject him from the building. Just as well. The guy had to be past retirement age, and Euan might have had to help him up the stairs.
He wasn’t sure where to sit down, thinking that perhaps she’d retreat behind her desk, but she waved him towards one of easy chairs. Perhaps that was a good sign.
‘I’ve something to say.’ She was still trembling.
‘Me too.’
His gaze connected with hers, and he almost choked. He’d promised himself that he would say his piece and then go, but Euan wasn’t sure whether he could do that. Wasn’t sure if he could ever let her go again.
She swallowed. ‘You first.’
That was fine. Whatever she wanted to say to him, it couldn’t change how he felt. Wouldn’t change what he was about to tell her.
