The It Girl(38)

“I’m really sorry,” he says, and now he looks it. His face is crestfallen. “I should have thought. It never occurred—”

“Just—go,” she breaks in desperately, and he nods and sets the book gently back on the shelf.

“I am really sorry,” he repeats, with more emphasis this time, but she’s walking away from him now, unable to look him in the face, unable to think of anything except getting away from him. “Ryan said—”

It’s that one word that breaks the spell.

Ryan.

She stops, turns around.

“You spoke to Ryan?”

“Yes, he’s a good friend. It was Ryan who suggested coming to see you.”

“How—how is he?”

“He’s… I mean, he’s all right. He’s better than he was.”

She swallows, unable to admit that she wouldn’t know—because she hasn’t seen him for more than five years. What kind of friend does that make her?

“I really am sorry,” the man—Geraint—says again, miserably this time. “I really apologize for springing this on you like that. I should have realized this wasn’t the right time and place.”

“It’s okay,” she says, though it’s not, and it never was, and she wants to kick herself for saying it. “Look, email me, okay? I’ll reply, I promise. But you can’t come here. This is my work—they don’t know anything about—that time.”

“I understand,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper, as though they are conspirators. “I’ll email. Thanks, Hannah.”

And then he’s gone.

After the shop door swings shut behind him, Hannah finds her legs are trembling and she gropes her way to the story corner beanbag and sits, her face in her hands, trying to stop shaking.

Why, why did she say that about the email? Now she will have to read it—and reply. Why?

Because it was the only way to get rid of him, she realizes. Or it felt like the only way. And because part of her, at heart, is still the nice polite girl from Dodsworth who wants people to like her, and who doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, or cross anyone, or let anyone down.

For a brief flashing moment she tries to imagine how April would have handled the young man.

Fuck you, probably, in her most bored, drawling tone. And then laughed after he’d gone, and poked fun at his prematurely balding hair.

But then she pushes the thought out of her mind. She can’t think about April. Not now. Least of all now.

She is heaving herself to her feet when her phone starts vibrating. Her first thought is What now? And her second is an instinct to silence it, send it to answerphone. She can’t be dealing with her mother—not now. But when she looks at the screen, it’s not Jill. It’s not even Will.

It’s the hospital.

She presses answer.

“Hello?”

“Oh, yes, hello.” The woman on the other end sounds brisk and a little bit pissed off. “Is that Hannah de Chast—” She stumbles over the surname, as people always do. “De Chasti-gan?”

“Yes.” Hannah doesn’t bother to correct the pronunciation. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, yes and no, it’s Ellie here from the midwifery team. We had you down for an appointment at two. Had you forgotten?”

For the second time that day, the blood drains from Hannah’s face and then comes rushing back.

“I’m so sorry.” She stumbles over the words, even while she is heading to the staff room, picking her way through the teetering displays with all the haste she can safely muster. “I totally forgot—something happened—family stuff—” Ugh, no, that word again—but it’s too late to take it back. “I’m so sorry, am I too late?”

“Well, you’re lucky, my next two ladies have arrived early so I can put you back to two twenty, if you can get here in time? Where are you?”

“Just around the corner. I am so sorry.” Hannah has reached the staff room. She grabs her coat off the back of the door, shrugging her arms into it as she speaks. “I’ll be there in five minutes, I promise.”

As she hangs up she sees Robyn staring at her over the kettle.

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. No. I mean, I forgot my midwife appointment. I’m so sorry, can you hold the fort?”

“Sure!” Robyn says cheerfully. “But calm down. You’ll do yourself a mischief!”

“You’re a star,” Hannah says breathlessly, and then she snatches up her bag and runs from the shop.





BEFORE


“So, drink then?” Hannah said, coming into the living room, where April was scrolling through her phone. Hannah had finished putting away the last of her belongings, and the set finally looked like home again.

“Sure,” April said. She stretched, catlike, spreading out all her toes and fingers. “Pelham bar? I don’t think I can be arsed to go into town.”

“Sure. But can we go via Cloade’s? I met Ryan on the way over and he said to knock on if we were going for a drink.” She said the last part with a slight flush, knowing that she was giving herself an alibi for calling past Cloade’s that had nothing to do with Will, but knowing too that of course April would collect Will while they were over there, so it would come to the same thing. By picking up Ryan, she was ensuring Will’s company.