Don’t You Forget About Me(89)

I’m so hurt and raw, the words just spill out of my mouth, unchecked.

‘I don’t want to get involved with anyone I work with is an obvious fob off. Everyone meets people at work. Just say you don’t fancy me enough, that’s fine.’

It wouldn’t be fine of course, it’d be devastating, but I don’t believe anyone who could kiss me in a way that made me feel like my bones had melted, felt no connection himself.

‘It’s not that.’

‘… Why kiss me?’

‘You kissed me.’

My mouth falls open. ‘Oh right, sorry, I thought this had involved two people but I accosted you, did I? I just fondled myself?’

‘Georgina,’ Lucas says, and he looks upset now, ‘You’re gorgeous. You’re amazing. No one would easily turn you down. But you work for me. So, no. I can’t.’

I know consolation prize compliments when I hear them. He’s turning me down with no real trouble at all.

‘Honestly, Lucas, spitting me out like you found a lump of cat food in your chilli con carne is one thing, making up reasons for it is another. You can tell the truth. I’m a grown-up. This polite brush-off is the worst.’

Lucas looks stung by this, more agitated than ever. ‘That’s bollocks though, isn’t it? The truth isn’t some wholesome thing that sets us free. It’s messy and best left alone, and you should know that better than most.’

Does he mean my dad? Or …?

We’re breathing heavily, silent as his words land in the space between us.

‘So,’ I choke. ‘So you’re admitting that you’re not actually bothered we work together, and it is something else?’

‘… Yeah,’ he says, hesitating. I can tell he already wishes he’d not said what he just said, that he was needled by me and didn’t think more than one move ahead. Too late.

My bluff has been called. In my confusion and mortification, I’ve been pretending so much more confidence than I actually have. This is gutting, even frightening. But I’ve come too far to back down.

‘… You didn’t hear what I was saying to Kitty? About … love? I can clarify that if so. I’m not looking for a ring.’

He frowns. ‘No.’

‘Then what?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It does.’

If the real reason was bad enough to need a white lie to cover it, it’s going to be awful. And he doesn’t know I’ve gossiped with Kitty about him being ready to date again, so if he invokes the spectre of Niamh, it’s another white lie. I think I know what might be coming and yet I would rather hear anything – anything – other than what I think he might be about to say.

Could it be …? No, surely not …

‘Really, I’d rather hear it.’

‘Why? To what end?’

‘It’s better than wondering,’ I say around the lump in my throat.

Brash claim: I have no idea if it’s better than wondering. The pub doesn’t feel cosy any more. It feels dark and silent and treacherous. The spark between us has snuffed out, now smoking like a guttering candle. Lucas looks away, then back, right into my eyes.

‘I associate you with one of the worst nights of my life.’

We stare at each other.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean, I’m sure.’

‘But …’ I trail off. Not ready. I’ve had twelve years to prepare and I am not ready.

‘Cast your mind back. We were eighteen years old and what I think was once called “going steady”.’

He’s known who I am all along. Worst night of his life? Ha. He has no idea. And I’ve spent all this time not knowing he felt this way.

My face must be ashen. Lucas says: ‘And yes, I did pretend not to remember you, once Dev had given us no choice about working together. I thought it was easier.’

‘You’re the boss. You could have said you wouldn’t work with me.’

This is irrelevant, but I need to say something as a placeholder while I sort my thoughts out. He knew?

A cab beeps and both of us ignore it.

‘I didn’t want to persecute you for something that happened in another lifetime. It’s not as if I could care less now. But yeah, with the choice of any barmaids in Sheffield, for preference I’d have gone with one who hadn’t broken my heart.’

He’s telling me this now?

‘I broke your heart?’ I say.

Lucas doesn’t reply.

‘You broke my heart,’ I say, into the silence.

Lucas laughs. He actually laughs at this.

‘Nice try. I think that might be false memory syndrome.’

There’s so much to say, but I’m completely unprepared for this. I don’t know how, in hostility and rejection, to discuss it. While I can still feel the pressure of his lips on mine, where he’s touched my skin.

‘But … you didn’t want me?’ I say.

Lucas gives me a look. Heavy, sardonic. Full of contempt, and things he won’t say and I ought to know.

‘Yeah. That is true. Afterwards, I didn’t want you.’

Time stands still for a moment. I stand still, I say nothing. I accept my coat from Lucas, pick up my bag from the seat nearby, and walk away.