Читать книгу Lessons in Love - Kate Lawson - Страница 8

The following morning Jane was woken by the sound of the phone ringing. And ringing, and ringing and then ringing some more. Had she switched her answer machine off? And if so why? For some reason Jane couldn’t quite remember.

Being woken by the phone is a horrible way to be dragged out of sleep. And her head ached. The phone rang again, more insistently this time. Jane groaned and then, rolling over, fumbled the receiver off the hook, struggling to remember the dream that she had had. It was very vivid. Something to do with Steve Burney, and then she had lost her job, and got horribly drunk and her mother said she was coming to stay—and so Jane had opened another bottle of red, and then she froze, while the voice at the far end of the line whispered, ‘Hello? Hello? Are you there?’

Not that Jane was listening. Oh, bugger. Realisation and total recall hit her like a bucket of cold water. It wasn’t a dream at all. All those things were for real. Bugger, bugger, bugger.

‘Hello?’ hissed the voice again. ‘Is that you?’

Jane glared at the phone and then tried to focus on the bedside clock. Had people got no consideration? Jesus, it was only—only—eleven. Eleven? Sweet Jesus, how the hell had that happened? Jane sat bolt upright and instantly regretted it as her brain ricocheted off the inside of her skull like a wrecking ball.

Four hours past getting-up time on a weekday, and well past Gladstone’s breakfast time. She was supposed to be in work by eight today, working up a project for local schools with a horribly tight deadline. She’d be in really big trouble if she hadn’t already been sacked. The phone and the sounds of her stirring summoned the cats from downstairs, who thundered across the landing and sprung onto the duvet with the vigour of trained ninja assassins.

‘Hello?’ said the voice again, still low, still barely audible over the mewling and purring and general feline complaining. ‘Are you there?’

‘Who is this?’ snapped Jane. The voice was husky and low, and for one moment Jane wondered if she’d been woken up by an obscene phone call.

‘It’s me. Are you all right? You sound awful.’

‘Who is this? You’ll have to speak up.’

‘I can’t, I’m phoning from work. I’m not supposed to have my mobile on.’

Comprehension dawned. ‘Lizzie? Are you all right? What on earth is the matter? You sound awful.’

‘We’ve all just come out of a staff meeting. It’s like the week before Christmas on a turkey farm here this morning. I’m out on the fire escape.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Lizzie, don’t jump. A job in the library isn’t worth killing yourself for.’

Lizzie laughed. ‘I’m not sure I want the bloody job anyway. They’ve asked me to work with Lucy on the schools thing. She was already in when I got here this morning, moving her stuff into your office. She’s been going through everything.’

‘What do you mean, everything? There isn’t anything to go through unless she’s fished the bin bags out of the skip.’

‘The way she was going, I wouldn’t put it past her. She wanted to know where all your stuff was.’

‘My stuff? There’s nothing left there that belongs to me. I brought it all home yesterday. Everything else I’ve left is library stuff.’

‘Everything?’

Jane grimaced. ‘Yes, I think so. Well, everything except for a dead fern, a lot of old envelopes and advertising circulars for the recycling bin, some milk and a toffee yoghurt in the fridge.’

‘She’s been on the computer looking for your personal email folder.’

Jane laughed. ‘Lizzie, when the hell did you turn into Secret Squirrel. How do you know?’

‘Because she told me. She said she needed to get up to speed on what you’ve been doing and that she’d sent you loads of ideas and things since you’d started there, and that as she was doing the job now she wanted them back, that they weren’t on file anywhere else so they must be in your personal files. Which, as she’s pointed out several times, is completely against office policy.’ Lizzie mimicked Lucy’s clipped high-pitched Home Counties accent with pointed accuracy.

A hangover and blind fury were not a happy combination. ‘Bloody cow, that’s not true. She didn’t send me any ideas. All she ever sent me were snippy little notes about photocopying. Anyway, I deleted all the personal stuff.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. You’re making me paranoid, Liz. I forwarded all my personal email to my home email address and then binned everything that was on the office machine.’

‘But you’ve still got it?’

‘I just told you. Yes, I’ve still got it. It’s just not on the library computer any more.’

‘Look, I’ve got to go but I’d have a look through it if I were you and see if you can work out what Lucy is really after. She is desperate to get her hands on something. She asked me if I knew your password.’

Jane laughed. ‘That’s nuts.’

‘I know, that’s what I said and I think she tried it, along with “no way” and “bugger off”—but she’s definitely up to something. Look, I’ve got to go before someone misses me. I’m busy tonight but I’ll pop round tomorrow or ring from home. See you soon. Bye.’

Jane sat and stared at the phone. What the hell was Lucy up to now?

But before she could give it too much thought the phone rang again. Looked like it was going to be one of those mornings. At least this time she was awake. Ignoring the cats, Jane picked up the receiver.

‘Hi,’ said a bright warm voice. ‘How are you this morning?’

‘Jayne?’

‘Uh-huh. Well spotted. I was just wondering how you were fixed for lunch today?’

‘Today?’ Jane glanced at the clock and tried to avoid catching sight of herself in the mirror.

‘Yes. If it’s inconvenient it’s not a problem. We can do it another day.’

‘Inconvenient?’

Jayne laughed. ‘And there was me hoping to employ you for your razor-sharp mind; a brain like forked lightning. These are not the cryptic clues.’

This time Jane laughed. ‘Sorry It’s all right, I’m fine. I just overslept and I’m still feeling a little fragile from yesterday. Would you like me to come to your house?’

‘No, I thought we could meet at Lorenzo’s. Do you know it?’

‘The restaurant in Brewer Street?’

‘That’s it. Is one o’clock OK?’

‘Sure.’

‘Great,’ said Jayne. ‘In that case I’ll see you there. Oh, and you can bring my post over, if I’ve got any. I know it sounds like I’m rushing you but I’d really like to sort everything out as soon as possible. And I need to introduce you to my business manager. His name is Ray Jacobson. He’s my second in command; handles all the nitty-gritty for me. You’ll like him. He’s a great guy. See you at one, if that’s OK?’

‘Fine,’ Jane said, as brightly as she could manage, then hung up, groaned and pulled the duvet back up over her head.

Ray Jacobson refilled Jayne’s champagne glass and then lifted his in salute.

‘You know, I think this is such a great idea, a kind of pilgrimage to your past. I’m almost envious. And you don’t have to worry, everything here will be in safe hands.’

‘I know that,’ said Jayne. ‘Just one thing. I’ve asked someone to help mind the store while I’m away.’

‘Really?’ He watched her face for a moment or two to see if she was joking and then laughed. ‘You’re serious?’

‘Yes, yes, I am. I met someone recently.’

‘Really?’ he purred. ‘How recently? I thought you were still seeing Carlo.’

She waved the words away. ‘No, not like that. Her name is Jane Mills, and I met her a few days ago. She’s looking for a job.’

‘Jane Mills?’

‘Exactly; it felt like some sort of omen. In fact, it’s because of her that I’ve finally decided it was time for me to take a sabbatical.’

Ray set his glass down and sighed. ‘Jayne, darling, how long have we known each other? How many years have we worked together? “All I need are the bright ideas and a man with an abacus and an eye for detail and I’m set”—isn’t that what you used to say? I don’t want to tell you how to run your business or your life, Jaynie, but do you really think—’

‘Don’t lecture me,’ Jayne said lightly. ‘I’m not stupid. I haven’t just picked someone at random off the street. She’s in her late twenties, working as a manager in the public sector, a very bright girl, funny, clever—in lots of ways she reminds me of me at that age. She seemed—no, she felt like—the last piece in the jigsaw. She’s been working in community outreach development for the library services.’

‘How terribly worthy.’

‘Stop it, Ray. She’s joining us for lunch. I’d really like you to show her the ropes, guide her through the business. I know it’ll take some time but my gut feeling is that she could turn out to be a real asset.’

‘You could have mentioned it earlier,’ Ray said grumpily.

Jayne stroked his arm. ‘I know, but the idea only really came to me yesterday, and you know what I’m like.’

‘An unpredictable pain in the arse.’

‘Ouch, that is so cruel. I prefer spirited.’

He snorted and refilled her glass.

Lunch at Lorenzo’s. Faultless service, fabulous food, wonderful wine and a hum of conversation that implied intrigue, intimacy and money. It had been Ray’s idea that they should use it for their regular out-of-office business meetings. It was a good choice.

‘And what is your protégée’s role supposed to be exactly?

‘I’m not sure. How about management trainee?’

‘Trainee? I thought you said—’

‘OK, OK, not trainee. Maybe assistant manager—managerial assistant—assistant development manager. Come on, this is not a bolt out of the blue, Ray. We’ve both talked about taking someone on before.’

‘Hypothetically. A hypothetical assistant. And to be honest I had rather assumed I would be involved in the selection process.’ He looked round. ‘Can you still smoke in here?’

‘Ray, you know very well you can’t smoke anywhere.’

‘Bloody nanny state. The thing is, we’ve got several good people on the staff who could just step into the role—people who already know the ropes.’

‘Please don’t sulk, Ray. If she doesn’t work out then that’s fine, but it seemed like an omen.’

‘Because her name is Jane Mills?’

‘It’s an instinct, a hunch.’

‘It’s a whim.’

Jayne picked up the menu and avoided meeting his eyes. ‘I thought she could start off by helping with the product selection, buying, as well as some of the day-to-day stuff. It just felt right. We need to find the right title for her.’

‘How about lucky mascot?’

‘Don’t be spiteful.’

Ray, unable to light up a cigarette, grunted and took a canapé from the tray proffered by a passing waitress. ‘So where is your lucky managerial rabbit’s foot now then?’

‘I told her to meet us here at one so that you and I could have a chance to talk first. I’d really like to get everything organised and leave as soon as possible. We need to go through my diary. To be honest I don’t think there’s that much on for the next few weeks.’

She pulled her organiser out from her bag and ran a finger down the entries.

‘Damn, I’m supposed to be giving a speech at the Cassar’s dinner. I’d forgotten all about that…’

Ray waved her anxiety away. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out,’ he said between mouthfuls of shrimp. ‘When is it? I’ll make sure it’s covered.’

‘So you’ll do it for me?’

Ray just stared at her.

‘OK, OK,’ she said, ‘I know, I can’t delegate—and I also know everything will be fine and you can manage perfectly well without me. Speeches and all.’

‘Is there anything else?’

‘I’ve also arranged to see several new suppliers—’

‘Your new managerial puppy can do that. It’ll give her something to cut her teeth on. Don’t worry, I’ll walk her through it. Just relax. Have you got any idea where you’re going yet?’

Jayne shook her head. ‘Nope, I thought I might just turn up at an airport and see what they’ve got on offer.’ She looked up from the diary.

‘Seriously?’

‘That was how I did it last time. I just need to get going before it’s too late.’

Ray smiled. ‘I understand that, but trust me, it’s not too late. And, Jayne?’ There was a little pause as their eyes met, and then he leaned across the table and caught hold of her hand. ‘It’s going to be fine. This thing you’ve been looking for—I truly hope that you find it.’

Jayne touched her glass to his. ‘Me too.’

Out in the High Street, and still around five minutes’ walk away from Lorenzo’s, Jane took a quick look in the window of a bookshop, which was the only one on the street with a window display dark enough to let her see her reflection. What the hell did you wear to a potential dot com job with a self-made woman and her right-hand man?

The suit Jane had bought in Next was great for the library but for Lorenzo’s? Nope. After Jayne’s phone call she’d spent what remained of the morning soaking away her hangover in a warm bath, plucking her eyebrows, rootling through her wardrobe, pressing things, lifting cat hairs off other things with masking tape, trying on endless combinations, knowing full well that whatever she chose it would feel wrong the minute she stepped out of the door.

And Gladstone—having missed his breakfast—was nowhere in sight, which also felt like a bad omen. And despite Lizzie’s phone call there was no time to go through the folder of email she had forwarded from the library—not that Jane thought there was anything in there, whatever Lucy or Lizzie thought.

As the day was warm and sunny, the sky Wedgwood blue with not a hint of a cloud, Jane had settled on a blue and cream linen skirt, T-shirt, short fitted cardigan, straw bag, and ballet pumps as her final choice. It had looked perfect when she left the house. She stared into the shop window and tried to get a real sense of whether it worked or not. Did it make her look ditsy? Too Doris Day, too Amelie? Too young? Too casual? Maybe she should have worn heels. Did heels say sexy and confident, or did flats say sensible and reliable? Horribly aware that she was running late, Jane tried standing on tiptoe to gauge the effect—maybe there was still time to nip into Stead and Simpson and buy a pair of high-heeled sandals—while forcing herself to calm down as she reminded herself for the umpteenth time that Jayne had already offered her a job.

She didn’t have to impress anyone, except she felt she had to make Jayne feel she had made a good choice and make Ray feel…feel…what was it she had to make Ray feel? Jane grimaced. God, this was awful.

Jane turned left and then right to check her profile, and her bum, then sucked in her stomach and fluffed up her hair. Behind her two Chinese people watched intently—presumably they thought she was some kind of provincial street theatre. It was nearly one o’clock already.

Lorenzo’s was set halfway along Brewer Street, up a flight of well-scrubbed steps, the front door flanked by two cone-shaped bay trees in terracotta pots, which made Jane wonder if the chef popped out first thing to pick a few leaves for the fish. Unlikely.

Inside the restaurant the walls were palest yellow, the black-and-white-tiled lobby giving way to plush duck-egg-blue carpets and an air of expensive tranquillity.

‘How can I help you?’ said a woman on the desk, whose expression suggested she could spot a Primark T-shirt and the wrong shoes in her sleep.

‘I’m meeting someone.’ The woman glanced down at her bookings list. ‘Jane Mills?’ Jane said

Like open sesame or shazam the name had the most amazing effect. ‘Certainly, Miss Mills is already here,’ she said. As she spoke the woman’s smile warmed and she waved a boy in uniform over. ‘Could you take—I’m so sorry I didn’t catch your name?’

‘Mills, Jane Mills,’ Jane said quietly.

The smile faltered. ‘Oh, so sorry, I thought you were here to see Jayne Mills.’

Jane nodded and blushed although she wasn’t quite sure why. ‘I am. Same name, it’s all a bit confusing, sorry.’

The smile snapped back. ‘Not at all. If you’d like to follow Terry, he’ll take you through. Miss Mills is in the bar.’ Jane did as she was told.

‘There you are,’ said a voice Jane recognised. Jayne Mills was on her feet before Jane was halfway across the room. She and a man in a suit were sitting at a table in a little bar area adjacent to the main dining room.

‘I thought you might have had second thoughts,’ Jayne said smiling broadly, catching firm hold of Jane’s hand. ‘Come and join us. Ray’s already broken out the champagne to celebrate me finally buggering off and leaving him in peace.’

A waiter appeared with a third glass as Jayne made the introductions. ‘Jane, this is Ray Jacobson, my right-hand man. Ray, this is Jane—’

Before anyone could come up with a definition of what Jane was, Ray clasped her hand in a firm presidential handshake. ‘Hello, Jane,’ he said warmly. ‘Nice to meet you. Welcome aboard. I hope you’ll be very happy with us. Jayne has just been telling me about you. We go back a long way, Jayne and I.’

‘Let’s not bother working out how long exactly,’ Jayne joked. Jane smiled and nodded as the waiter filled up her champagne glass.

Ray was small—no more than five foot five or six, his broad shoulders giving the impression he was almost square. He looked as if he was in his fifties, hair thick and grey, combed back off strong features and a deeply tanned face. He wore a tight professional smile.

‘I thought we’d break you in gently. I’m not sure how much Jayne has told you about her organisation but I do most of the hands-on administration, turning Jayne’s bright ideas into reality and generally oiling the wheels of the corporate machine. We’ve never had anyone with us on the front line before but I’m sure we’ll both rise to the occasion. Jayne suggested you might be able to start Monday morning. Maybe you’d like to spend a few days in the office to get the feel of the place before you hit the road.’

‘Hit the road? But I thought it was Jayne who was hitting the road?’ said Jane, looking from face to face, panicking, realising that the champagne was already rippling through her bloodstream like quicksilver, rehydrating the previous day’s wrinkly dried-up alcohol molecules and that she hadn’t had any breakfast and that she had no idea at all exactly what it was she had signed up for.

‘True, but you’re off to see new suppliers,’ Ray was saying.

‘I am?’ Jane hissed.

Jayne grinned and patted her arm. ‘Don’t look so worried. It’ll be fine. Come round to mine tomorrow morning. I’ll talk you through my diary and explain what I do.’ She giggled; obviously Jane wasn’t the only one affected by the champagne. ‘Actually, I suppose that as of now it’s what you do.’

Ray smiled wolfishly ‘And then you can come and see me first thing on Monday morning and I’ll show you how we make order out of madam’s high-octane chaos.’

Jayne laughed, Jane didn’t.

When Jane got back home at around three thirty the house was quiet, the cats sound asleep in the sunny garden. She put her bag on the kitchen counter and plugged in the kettle. Lunch hadn’t been all that bad. And at least working for Jayne would give her something to tide her over until she worked out exactly what she wanted to do next.

Picking up the local paper Jane turned to the situations vacant column, slipped off her shoes, padded through to the sitting room and settled down on the sofa. Sunlight filled the room. She thought she might just close her eyes for a few minutes, not long…

When she opened them again it was almost nine. She yawned. No phone calls, no Lizzie, no Lucy, no Steve, no Mother. Maybe there was a God after all.

‘So, what do I have to do exactly?’ asked Jane the following morning, staring at the exquisite Apple G5 perched wirelessly on a slab of toning grey slate in Jayne’s office, upstairs in the house in the Close. There was a picture of a tropical beach hut on the edge of an azure sea as a screensaver…and a date from a digital camera on the bottom right-hand corner.

Jayne slipped into the seat alongside her. ‘First of all, try not to look so worried. It will give you wrinkles. The company is like a cross between being a landlord, owning a farm and running a department store. I collect rent from people whose websites I host.’ Jayne clicked the mouse and the screensaver and straw huts dissolved into something altogether more work-ish. ‘At least my company does. I employ a posse of geeks to keep that up and running. Then there is the purchasing department, various call centres to handle the ordering, and then I have a few sites of my own.’ She clicked again. ‘Here we are.’ A pale cream page rolled across the computer screen with links to various companies. ‘We sell all kinds of things—last-minute trips, organic produce, meat, wine and cheese delivered to your door. There’s a catering company, kind of dial-a-decadent-dinner.com—your dinner party is just a mouse click away. Then there are flowers and plants. Animal sitting,’ she looked across at Augustus, who was currently curled up on the windowsill, sound asleep, ‘oh, and housekeeping. That’s how I first met Gary. He applied for a job. Two or three guys showed up, all with great references. I took Gary at face value, working out the mileage in having an inscrutable oriental housekeeper for hire. I hadn’t thought about him working for me. Anyway, as part of the interview I asked them all to cook me something. Comfort food after a long day, I said. Something that reminded them of home. I can’t remember what the others did, but they missed the point completely. And then Gary whipped up a plate of pie and mash.’ Jayne laughed. ‘He said, “Ever been to Southend?” as he slid this tray in front of me.’

Jayne’s smile held. ‘And then he said, “And you want to get those shoes off, girl. I can see from here they’re killing you.” I hired him on the spot on a month’s trial; we’ve never looked back.’ Jayne paused and sighed. ‘All seems a long time ago now,’ she said. Jayne turned her attention back at the screen.

‘OK, right, well, there are a couple of property sites, mostly executive houses and apartments, dealing with people who’ve been relocated by their companies and don’t want the hassle of finding somewhere suitable either to rent or buy. We have a company that sorts out everything including the move, redirecting their post, setting up their utilities, the whole nine yards. Then there is an online furniture store and one that does really nice rugs, bed linen, and towels. Think of it as problem-solving for strangers.’

Jane stared at her. ‘I thought you said this was simple.’

‘It is when it’s going all right. All the companies are more or less self-contained. Over the years it occurred to me that everything I have ever struggled with, everything that has been a total pain in the arse, is probably just as big a pain in the arse for other people, and so I set a company to sort it out, make life simpler and see how it worked. Some flew, some crashed and burned, some made money, some scraped by. Some were ahead of their time, some past their best-before date.’ Jayne grinned as she scrolled down the screen. ‘Oh, one thing you might be interested in…’ She clicked the mouse. ‘Here we are.’

Jane read over her shoulder. ‘A dating agency?’

Jayne nodded. ‘Uh-huh, men on tap.’

‘If you’ve got access to all this how come you’re still on your own?’

Jayne winced. ‘To tell you the truth it’s a bit like working in a chocolate factory. You stuff yourself silly for the first few weeks but after that the last thing you want is to pick anything off the conveyor belt, however tasty it looks.’

‘You did to begin with, though?’ asked Jane, running her eyes down the rows of thumbnail profile photos staring back at her from the computer screen.

Jayne nodded. ‘Oh, yes, I completely pigged out.’

‘Is that where you met Carlo?’

Jayne sighed. ‘No. We met at a gallery owned by a friend of mine. It was only once I got Carlo out in public that I realised that he wasn’t quite what he appeared—nice to look at but, my God, the running costs.’ She laughed. ‘Enough of that. Have you got any questions?’

Jane felt a wave of panic as she sat back. ‘Only, are you stark staring mad? Are you seriously expecting me to run all this? I mean, it all sounds fantastic, it looks great—and I’m impressed—but I’ve had no real commercial experience.’

‘It’s not as complicated as it looks. Most of the companies are headed up by people who’ve worked for me for years. People I trust. Every six months we get together for a strategy meeting. I’ve just finished doing the rounds. Ray keeps his hand on the tiller—and a lot of my income comes from the servers, which are no trouble at all, and property, and there’s an estate manager to deal with all that, so unless there is a huge crisis most of the work is really simple—and fun.’

‘And if there is a crisis?’

‘I’ll be a phone call away.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’ Jayne nodded.

‘How will I know if it is a crisis?’

Jayne laughed. ‘Trust me, you’ll know. But it’ll be fine. For the last few years I’ve spent most of my time sourcing new suppliers, looking at new products, talking to producers and manufacturers—and most of them don’t know me from Adam anyway, except by reputation, so you can do that. Use your initiative, pick things you like, things that you’d like to use or eat or wear, and don’t be afraid to say no, or to ask if they can change it. I just need life to tick over till I get back. Ray will help until you get into the swing of things. He can give you some idea of how many of anything we’re likely to shift, and what to pay and if they fit into the product range we’ve already got. All the business stuff. Just use your nose.’

Jane wasn’t convinced her nose was that hot. ‘And you’re going to let everyone know you’re away?’

Jayne paused. ‘Actually I’d prefer not to. I was hoping to just slip away without a lot of fuss. They won’t know—most of the time they barely see me as it is. We have an office locally. Ray runs the business on a day-to-day basis. Now, about your salary. I thought if initially we match the one at the library, plus say fifteen per cent and then review it after—’

Jane didn’t move. ‘You changed the subject.’

‘I did?’

Jane nodded. ‘You did.’

‘OK, well, that’s because I think that if everyone in the company thinks everything is running as normal then it will. If they know I’ve bunked off then they’ll panic, think there is something going on, wobble, and then things will go wrong, things that are working just fine as they are at the moment.’

‘I can see that, but what if they find out?’

‘I can’t see how they will, but if push comes to shove you can say I’m away on business if you want to. Oh, one other thing I was going to ask you. Most of the time I work from home so I wondered if would you consider moving in here while I’m away? You said you loved the house.’

‘Really? Wow, I hadn’t thought about it—I’m not sure, I’ve got the cats—’

‘They could come here too. I’m sure Augustus wouldn’t mind. And it would do me a colossal favour. Gary can look after you, which will keep him out of mischief, and it means I haven’t got to worry about the place. You can use the cars. I’ll make sure we insure them for you to drive. And it makes all kinds of other stuff straightforward. After all, J. Mills already lives here. I’ll have Ray and the bank sort out cards and contracts and signatures. You’ll need passwords to access the sites—have you got a pen?’

Jane stared at her. ‘Are you completely barking mad?’

‘Possibly, but you’ll need all those things and don’t worry, I’ll have all the right people investigate you, take up references, check your credit history. Besides which, you won’t be able to do anything critical without Ray’s consent and probably his signature. And you won’t have access to everything, just a housekeeping fund to keep the house running till I get back.’

Jane blanched. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘And when will that be?’

Jayne hesitated. ‘I don’t know, but don’t worry. Ray is a good guy, but in some ways what I really need—and don’t take this the wrong way—is a figurehead, a lucky penny. You’re OK about taking this on? If not, say so. I’ve waited this long, another few months won’t kill me…’ Her voice faded.

Jane considered for a few seconds; the library had already emailed her a list of vacancies. Mrs Findlay had sent a sugary little message saying that she was there if Jane needed to talk and she could completely understand her distress and pain. Perhaps she might like to come in and discuss her feelings with someone in Human Resources?

Jane glanced at Jayne’s computer screen, now back on the image of the tropical beach. What had she got to lose? Even if Jayne’s job lasted only a couple of months it would be way cosier thumbing through the job ads here, with a regular pay cheque, than sitting at home without one. And wasn’t this the kind of lifestyle she had always dreamed of? A fabulous house, wonderful furniture, great cars, a housekeeper—why on earth was she hesitating?

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine about it. Just a bit nervous.’

‘Well, don’t be. When did your mother say she was coming?’

‘As soon as she can pull herself out from under Simon, by the sounds of it.’

Jayne lifted an eyebrow but didn’t comment. ‘Well, when you’ve got it sorted out, ask Gary to get the guest room ready. He adores company.’

Jane looked round the elegant office with its view out over the garden, the lake, the deer. ‘No. No, actually I think I’ll tell her I’m too busy at the moment. I’ve never been a lucky penny before. And, to be frank, I’m not sure I’m ready for Simon, my mother and the whole Tantric sex conversation.’

Jayne laughed. ‘Fair enough, but please, use the place as if it was your own. If you want her to come and stay, well, it’s up to you. Meanwhile, what I suggest you do is go through the sites while I go and get us some coffee; they’re all bookmarked. Get a feel for what the companies do and sell and handle. Ray can help you with anything you don’t understand, and he knows which fork to use, even under pressure.’

Jane looked at the screen. ‘If you’ve already got Ray why do you need me?’

Jayne paused thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know. In theory you’re absolutely right, I could have stepped away from all this months ago—but I had this feeling that the time wasn’t right, that it wasn’t the moment but that I would know when to go. The other day when you turned up, it felt like some sort of sign. You having the same name—oh, I don’t know, I just had a feeling, and like I said, over the years I’ve learned to trust my instincts, at least where business is concerned, so I feel like now is just perfect.’

‘And while I’m busy trying not to ruin all this for you what are you going to be doing?’ asked Jane.

‘I want to make sense of what I missed first time around.’

‘And what was that?’

‘How would I know if I missed it?’ Jayne laughed. ‘OK, I suppose I was about your age; I’d done all kinds of dead-end jobs, saving furiously, saving up to travel. And then…’ She paused.

‘And then?’

‘Well, I was backpacking with a guy named Andy Turner. I suppose it was in the early eighties. Anyway, we were sitting on a beach in Kos, sharing a couple of bottles of beer. Andy had built a fire out of driftwood and there was the sound of waves washing against the shore, night sounds, but otherwise we could have been the only two people on the planet. It was getting cold and I remember leaning back against him to keep warm and he put his jacket around me and then his arms. And as we watched the sun set over the ocean, as the light faded into this soft peach and purple glow he said, “Jayne, I want to ask you something.”

‘I knew what he was going to say. He held me closer. I can still remember looking over my shoulder and seeing the reflection of the fire in his eyes, and then he asked me to marry him.’

Jayne sighed. ‘It has to have been the most romantic moment in my whole life, and then all of a sudden that wasn’t what it felt like at all. Suddenly I could see this path stretching out in front of me. Andy’s mum knew my mum—we’d grown up within a few miles of each other, been to the same school, had the same friends. And you know what? I panicked. I couldn’t breathe. I just thought that there had got to be more to life than this—more than getting married and living a mile away from my mum and dad, taking turns to go round for Sunday lunch, and having kids and—and the sun set in the ocean. And he said, “So what do you think?” And I said, “No.”’

‘Wow.’ Jane stared at her. ‘And is that what you want to go back to, to that moment?’

‘Good God, no,’ said Jayne, heading towards the door, the moment broken. ‘I’ll go and get the coffee.’

‘Oh,’ Jane said, ‘but it sounds so romantic. I thought you meant that you loved him and you wished you had married him and lived happily ever after, raising small Andy Turners a few miles from your mum and dad.’

Jayne shook her head wistfully. ‘No—no, but there is a part of me that wishes I had been strong enough to say, yes I love you but I’m not ready to settle down yet and I need to explore some more—maybe we both do and how about we do it together? But things were different back then, or at least they were where I came from. I grew up in a little village near Ely, where, if you weren’t engaged by the time you were sixteen they thought there was something wrong with you. My mum was convinced that I was on the shelf by the time I was twenty. And Andy wouldn’t have seen it as a positive thing at all. He would have thought I was rejecting him, fobbing him off.’

‘And were you?’

‘No, looking back I don’t think so. I just wanted more than what my mum and dad had settled for. It’s so much easier now but then it was still a struggle for someone like me: a working-class woman, trying to build a business. And the other thing was, if I’m honest, I wasn’t sure then that Andy was the one. I thought I’d be able to find just as much love somewhere else. And you know what?’ She paused, her smile faltering just a fraction. ‘I never did.’

‘Oh, Jayne.’

Jayne waved the words away. ‘Don’t. It was entirely my own fault. I had it, I knew it, and I threw it away.’

‘So what happened to Andy?’

‘We carried on travelling together till the end of the trip and then when we got back he went off to a job in Manchester. We vaguely agreed that we’d travel together again sometime but I think we both knew we wouldn’t. Last time I saw him was when I was waving him off at Euston. Ten minutes later I headed across London to Liverpool Street, went home and started my first business. Monday, the eighteenth of April 1983.’

‘As?’

‘Owner, only employee and chief cyclist of Sandwich City. Firms would ring their orders in before eleven thirty everyday and I’d pedal like hell round Cambridge to all kinds of offices and shops, with rolls and homemade soup in the winter, salads and stuff in the summer. With the profit I put a down payment on a house and converted it into flats for students.’ Jayne grinned. ‘My mum and dad thought I was totally mad but I just knew that it would work—and I wanted to be free and thought if I worked hard and got rich it would give me my freedom, give me choices, let me buy nice things.’

‘And did it?’

‘Most certainly it did. I built up the sandwich business, franchised it, sold that on. Met Ray—bought more houses. For the first few years it felt like Monopoly for real. I still get a buzz out of watching when it goes right.’

‘And Andy?’

Jayne sighed. ‘You know, I don’t know. I suppose without meaning to, he got lost in the rush. At first we spoke a few times on the phone. He’s still in Manchester somewhere, an accountant. Happily married, probably, two point four children. God, he might even be a granddad by now. Lots of times I’ve thought about looking him up, contacting him. I mean, how hard would it be? And yet I can’t quite bring myself to do it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I’ve moved on, years have gone by. In my head he is still tall, blond, tanned and gorgeous. What if he’s bald now—or fat? What if I made a terrible mistake back then? What if he never got over me? Worse still, what if he did?’