The Other Woman(33)

I smiled. ‘I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon. You know what your mum’s like. She’ll drag it out for as long as she can.’ I wasn’t sure whether I’d meant to say that out loud.

‘Her bark’s worse than her bite,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘She’ll come round.’

The breath that I’d been holding in escaped through my lips, and the tension in my shoulders ebbed away. If Adam hadn’t been in the next room, I would have told James everything. It was all there, waiting on the tip of my tongue, desperate to get out. I wished that Adam could be more like James, it would be easier to talk to him about his mother. James would understand how I felt, how she made me feel. He’d support me and back me up when she had me in a corner. I knew he would.

He smiled that smile again, as if he was reading my mind. ‘She just needs a bit of time, that’s all.’

I didn’t mind that. She could have all the time in the world. Take as long as she needed. It wasn’t as if I was missing her. If the truth be known, I was secretly thrilled that it had put some distance between her and us. But I ought to be careful what I wished for, as, since it all happened, Adam’s sex drive had fallen through the floor. It was nigh on impossible to get him in the mood for anything other than a chaste kiss when he left for work. I tried to convince myself that it was just a coincidence, that he was under pressure at work and was tired. But every time I pictured Pammie seeing us, and feeling the shock run through Adam’s body, I knew it had had a bigger effect on him than I could even begin to imagine.

‘I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like it,’ he said, later that night, as I sauntered into the bedroom in a new lacy underwear set from Victoria’s Secret.

‘When do you think you might feel like it?’ I said sulkily. ‘Anytime soon?’

‘Just not tonight.’

‘But I can make all your troubles slip away,’ I teased, as I got into bed and reached for him.

‘Just give it a break,’ he snapped, before turning his back on me and switching off the light.

My mood wasn’t helped any the next morning, when two of my trainees called in sick. I knew one of them was flaky, but I was surprised and disappointed with Ryan. His diary was chock-a-block with appointments, which left me having to juggle both our schedules and somehow work a miracle by being in two places at once.

By midday, I felt like I had steam coming out of my ears. My boss, Nathan, wanted me to step into a new business pitch, and a client I’d been working on for weeks was about to award the contract to a rival agency. I had allowed for neither.

My mobile had rung at least thirty times, and my stress level was increasing with every call.

‘Yep, Emily Havistock,’ I barked, a tad more aggressively than I’d intended.

‘That bad, eh?’ said the male voice.

‘Sorry? Who’s calling?’ I hadn’t recognized the number, and already regretted answering it. I didn’t have time for a cold caller.

‘It’s James,’ he replied.

I waited for something to click. ‘Sorry, James . . . ?’

‘Adam’s brother,’ he offered hesitantly.

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘sorry, I was trying to place a James at work. Hi, how are you? I’m not with Adam, if that’s why you’re calling. Is it Pammie? Is she okay?’ I was rambling as my mind raced through a million different scenarios.

‘Yeah, she’s fine. It’s all good.’

I was rather hoping for more than that, but he was making me work for it. ‘So, what’s up?’ I asked. ‘Are you okay?’

It felt odd to be talking to James on the phone. Texting was somehow different. Our once-easy friendship felt like it was crossing a line.

‘Yes, I’m all good.’ He drew it out slowly. I waited, unsure what to say next.

‘It’s just that . . . erm . . . I’m in your area, and wondered if you were free for a quick coffee?’

‘What?’ I don’t know if I said it out loud.

‘Hello?’

‘Erm, yeah, hi.’

‘I didn’t catch that. Was that yes or no?’

‘Ah . . . I’m sorry, I’m in Canary Wharf right now. That would have been great, but I’m up to my neck in it today. I’ve got back-to-back appointments. They drive us hard in this industry.’ I heard myself give a fake laugh to lighten the mood. I doubted he knew me well enough to tell.

I thought of the man at the other end of the line. I’d always pictured him up to his ankles in soil, raking over a flowerbed and wiping his hands down a grubby grey t-shirt that used to be white. His features, so much like Adam’s, but younger, sharper, more chiselled. His fingernails caked in dirt as he pushed back his hair from his face.

Now he was here, in what I’d heard him refer to as the concrete metropolis. I’d assumed he wasn’t a fan of the city, so what was he doing here? And would he now be in a suit, walking through the maze of high-rise buildings, becoming more and more desperate to return to the green pastures that he adored?

The realization that I’d imagined him, and clearly not for the first time, made me blush.

I stuttered into the gaping silence, ‘Erm – maybe another time?’

‘Yeah, sure, no biggie,’ he said quickly, sounding embarrassed and desperate to get off the phone.