Your Perfect Year(36)

But he hadn’t yet been in touch, and Hannah was slowly but surely starting to feel nervous. She was reluctant to call him; she had already put enough pressure on him and certainly didn’t want to keep fussing over him until he was incapable of standing on his own two feet.

“Do you have any time?” Lisa asked at a quarter past six, after saying goodbye to the last of the children along with Hannah’s mother, and clearing the chaos in the playroom with a few deft movements. “I thought we could discuss the plans for next week. Only if you have a minute, of course.” They had decided not to shut Little Rascals over the holidays, after it had become apparent that at this time of year in particular, their clients—stressed out by all the Christmas and New Year’s goings-on—were practically weeping for joy at the prospect of being able to drag their precious little ones from the TV screens at home for at least a few hours. Of course, it meant that Hannah and Lisa would have to manage without help that week, as their assistants had all arranged time off. And Simon—well, Simon.

“Of course,” Hannah replied. “I’ve got nothing else to do.” She was unable to stop a loud, deep sigh from escaping.

“That doesn’t sound good. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing,” Hannah said defensively, but immediately corrected herself. “Well, you know, I’m worried about Simon.”

“Is he getting worse again?”

“Not really. But he’s not getting any better.”

“Has he been to see the doctor?”

“Yesterday morning,” Hannah replied. “I practically had to drag him there. We’re expecting the results of the blood tests today, but he hasn’t been in touch yet.”

“That means it can’t be anything serious. No news is good news, right?”

“That’s true. But I’d just like him to call and tell me the ‘no news.’ I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Men!” Lisa rolled her eyes. “It’s a well-known fact that they live in another time zone. He’s probably lost in some fantasy world on his computer and it simply hasn’t occurred to him that his girlfriend’s biting her nails to the quick.”

“Huh.” Hannah shrugged. “You’re probably right.” She must have looked unhappy, because Lisa immediately turned sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit insensitive. You really are worried, aren’t you?”

“Whatever!” Hannah waved her right hand as if to drive all her unpleasant thoughts away.

“It is unusual for him to be so run down for so long.”

“But, Lisa, you just said it’s probably nothing serious.”

“True, but—”

“If you ask me, it’s his unemployment getting him down. That’s all.”

“I have to say, the connection between ‘no job’ and ‘one infection after another’ doesn’t seem immediately obvious,” Lisa said.

“Everything’s connected to everything else.”

“True.” Her friend grinned. “Amen!”

Hannah’s cell phone rang. She dashed over to her jacket and grabbed it out of the pocket.

“Ha!” she said as she saw the display. “Speak of the devil.” She answered the call with a breathless “Hello, devil!”

“Hello.” Simon sounded slightly muffled. And that single word was very, very quiet. Hannah’s knees suddenly threatened to give way under her as they had in the hospital. She had to reach out a hand to support herself against the wall. “It’s me,” he said, not making the slightest reference to her peculiar greeting. Hannah found that strange.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes.”

That one syllable shot a wave of relief through Hannah. Her body turned hot, then cold, then hot again in rapid succession. “Thank God!” she whispered, briefly closing her eyes. Only now did she realize how right Lisa had been—that she had been seriously worried, but had not wanted to admit it. “So, what did the doctor say?” she asked as she opened her eyes. Lisa smiled and nodded, giving her a cheerful thumbs-up.

“It doesn’t matter,” Simon replied. “What does matter is that you get home as quick as you can, change into your best dress, and wait for me to pick you up in exactly one hour from now.”

“What? I don’t get it.”

“You go home,” Simon repeated patiently; even through the phone she could hear his grin. “Change into a pretty dress and make sure you’re ready by half past seven.”

“Ready for what?”

“I’m not telling. A surprise.”

“Let me guess.” Her voice tripped over itself in excitement. “You’ve found a new job!”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you there,” he replied. “I’m still unemployed.”

“Enough of this mystery! Please can you just tell me what’s happening?”

“You’ll see in good time.”

“Simon!” she pleaded. “I want to know right now what you’re plotting.”

“No.” He said nothing more, but simply hung up. Hannah looked at her cell phone with a frown.

“What’s up?” Lisa asked.