Читать книгу The Things We Need to Say: An emotional, uplifting story of hope from bestselling author Rachel Burton - Rachel Burton, Rachel Burton - Страница 12
ОглавлениеHe always claimed it was love at first sight. I would laugh, telling him I didn’t believe in love at first sight. He said he didn’t either until I came along. He said he’d known on his first day at the firm when he was introduced to me, his secretary. All I know is that when he shook my hand he held on for a little bit longer than he needed to and I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
I’d been working at the firm for two years when Will started. He was ten years’ qualified by the time I met him, the eldest of two boys, privately educated, married and divorced by the time he was thirty. I already knew the firm had poached him from rival lawyers and made him partner to head up the Family Law department. He had a penchant for divorce law apparently, which I suppose must have come in handy.
I showed him the ropes, helped him understand the office politics, who to trust, who not to. We grew close, Will and I, over those first few weeks. Closer than we should have done. I’d gently rib him about his big posh family. He’d tease me for always having my nose in a book or for being back late from my lunchtime yoga class, for not concentrating on my job, not taking it seriously. Occasionally, as often as he thought he could get away with it, he’d take me out to lunch – we got to know each other in those stolen moments.
It was in the pub one lunchtime, over soup and sandwiches, that I told him about my parents.
I hardly ever talked about my parents. Other people’s sympathy was the one thing that always made it worse. I was the only child of older parents, their little miracle. My dad died when I was a teenager and two years later I’d left home to go to university in London with no intention of ever coming back.
But I’d returned to Cambridge three years after I graduated, when my mum was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I’d helped to care for her, but it took her quickly. I hadn’t been prepared for how quickly. She died within a few weeks of my coming back. She left me with enough money to buy my own house and a hole in my heart so big I couldn’t bear to go back to the life I’d left behind in London.
Will didn’t say anything when I told him. It was almost as though he could read my mind and he knew that I couldn’t cope with his sympathy. He looked at me for a moment, nodded once, and changed the subject, gently steering the conversation back to its usual mix of gentle ribbing and mild flirtation. Because I was still kidding myself then, I think, that this was just a mild flirtation. That it would pass. That I wasn’t falling for him.
But then the Christmas party rolled around and everything changed. I got into his car afterwards. I let him drive me home. We sat outside together for too long, until the windows started to steam up from our breath. I was still laughing at his attempts at dancing. He was telling me to treat my boss with a bit more respect.
‘I’d better go,’ I said. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay there with him all night. I wanted him to tell me everything, to let me into his world, but I still thought that was impossible. Maybe it always was.
As I got out of the car I turned back to him one last time. I don’t know what made me say it. Maybe it was three glasses of wine on an empty stomach. Maybe both our lives would have been different if I’d kept quiet.
‘Just so you know, if you weren’t my boss I’d be asking you inside now.’
