Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating (54 page)

‘Audrey?’ Alice asked hesitantly.

‘Not now,’ she replied quietly, her eyes on the spot where Maurice’s coat had disappeared.

And then merciful distraction. Into the space vacated by Maurice burst Bianca and Cassandra. As Alice turned to watch them enter, Audrey quickly picked up her telephone and blindly punched in a fictitious number. Alice reluctantly backed out of the glass-walled office and into the noisy chatter of the girls.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Audrey swivelled on her chair and pretended to be busy on a call.

It was fast approaching lunchtime and, other than a cursory greeting and a thank you for the cup of tea, Audrey hadn’t acknowledged Alice at all. Or anyone, in fact. She hadn’t even set foot outside her glass-walled office. She’d been absorbed in her paperwork or engaged on one of her important-looking phone calls. It was as though the world on the other side of her glass wall didn’t exist.

Bent over her computer in what she hoped was a mirror image of Audrey’s industrious concentration, Alice waited for an opportunity to slip into her office and apologize. Audrey looked tired, she thought. But other than that no one would guess the trials she’d been through yesterday.

The ins and outs of Audrey’s love life were all that Bianca and Cassandra could talk about. Alice had tried to stop their gossip several times, but after the filthy looks the girls had thrown her, plus the hissed reminder that she wasn’t the boss, she’d given up. Between them they bought a dozen gossip magazines each week, so to stop them talking about a real-life scandal that had unfolded under their very noses was probably impossible. Besides, matchmakers across
the county were probably
all
inspecting Audrey’s dirty linen this morning. The thought made Alice want to run into her office and cover her boss’s ears.

Unhappily Alice turned back to her half-written resignation letter.

She had no doubt her resignation would be accepted. Audrey had wanted rid of her practically from the moment she’d hired her. Maybe that was why she was so busy today, Alice thought suddenly. Maybe she was compiling a case for her dismissal. Why else would Maurice Lazenby have arrived with her first thing this morning? Alice didn’t have many dissatisfied clients, but Maurice was certainly one of them. So it was Maurice who was going to provide the ammunition for her Table For Two firing squad, she thought sadly.

An email popped into her in-box, distracting her from her professional funeral. It was from John.

Sweetheart
, it read.

I hope it’s all going OK. Or as OK as can be expected. And if she fires you, fear not! I have a plan for both our professional futures. Dinner at mine tonight so I can explain? I’ll pick you up from the hospital at 8 (presuming you’re still going to visit Hilary and the baby – not that Audrey will have put you there!). J x

Despite herself, Alice couldn’t help smiling. God, it felt good to finally have a boyfriend. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been missing out on all these years. It was all
going to be worth it, she told herself. She’d get another job, somewhere else, away from the territory of Table For Two. After all, it would feel like the final act of betrayal to battle Audrey for her clients as well as her man. And besides, who around here could she bear to work for? Not Sheryl. Nor any of the other DIPS members. None of them had had the decency to stick up for Audrey at the meeting.

No, she would have to go to another city. It’d mean leaving her clients behind, she thought with a pang, but it had to be done. She and John would go somewhere new, where neither of their old jobs could haunt them. And once they were gone then maybe, just maybe, Audrey’s heart would begin to mend. And in a couple of years Alice and John would be forgotten, a mere ghost of a bad dream that Audrey could barely remember. The glass is always half full, Alice reminded herself.

She lifted her shoulders and concentrated on finishing her resignation letter.

Lou paused, ignored the fear churning unpleasantly in her stomach, lifted her head defiantly and went inside. It had been a difficult walk to work, not least because her feet were unaccustomed to flat shoes (surprisingly awkward after years of heels). But that hadn’t been the worst of it. She’d felt horrible, naked: caught in the middle of a bad dream – the one where you went to work but forgot to put on your clothes.

It was the first time she’d left the flat since the morning after her night with Simon. And it was the first time she’d been anywhere without make-up since she was twelve. It wasn’t easy. It was beyond a big deal. Her hefty layer of cosmetic colour had been her protection. Without it she felt exposed and nervous. She wasn’t sure she was cut out for this relaxed, natural look. It felt distinctly unnatural to her.

But she’d made it this far without turning back . . .

As she descended the stairs she concentrated on keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead – studiously avoiding the big mirror that greeted drinkers on arrival – and made her
way across the empty room to where Tony, Paul and Jake were bottling up.

‘Fucking hell!’ exclaimed Tony as he caught sight of her. ‘Look at the state of you! Are you ill again?’

He peered at her, making sure he kept his distance. In Tony’s world it was a medical fact that germs couldn’t leap distances of more than thirty centimetres.

‘No, I’m fine,’ Lou replied. She noticed there wasn’t any concern in her lover’s voice.

She could feel Tony’s eyes boring into her as she pushed open the door to the back room and disappeared momentarily to stow away her bag. Out of sight for a few seconds she brushed her hand through her hair nervously, bit her lip (no worries about lipstick on her teeth any more) and then walked back into the bar.

Tony hadn’t moved. He was still staring at her, his mouth gaping and his face full of his natural suspicion of illness. Behind him, Paul and Jake were also staring, although a lot more kindly.

Ignoring them all, Lou busied herself with setting up the till, tipping the plastic bags of coins into their allotted segments.

‘Listen, love,’ Tony’s voice had softened. Lou stiffened as she recognized his ‘be nice to the lady staff, they’re probably on the blob’ voice. ‘Are you sure you should be here? You’re not contagious or anything, are you? I’m just thinking of you!’ he added quickly, holding his hands up as if in surrender to an imminent menstrually aggressive
attack. ‘Besides, me, Suze and the kids are off to Marbella at the weekend. I don’t want any of your lurgy.’

‘I’ve told you, I’m perfectly all right, thank you,’ Lou replied, not looking up from her work.

In her peripheral vision she saw Tony turn to Jake and Paul and pull a face.

‘Right, well, in that case’ – his voice was back to its normal bullish tone – ‘you’d better pull yourself together. That face could curdle beer. The regulars want eye candy, not sauerkraut.’

He turned angrily and headed to the back room. Something in the way he stropped off made Lou realize their relationship had only been as deep as her make-up. Their up-against-the-optics quickies were over.

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Paul asked quietly, his voice full of concern. ‘We can always cover for you if you need to go home.’

‘Cheers, Paul, but that won’t be necessary.’

‘Right. If you say so,’ he replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. ‘You just don’t look yourself, that’s all.’

Lou sighed. She might as well get it over and done with. After all, this wasn’t supposed to be an experiment for just one day.

‘Look, if you must know,’ – she raised her voice slightly so Jake could hear too – ‘I’m not wearing any make-up, that’s all.’

‘Oh!’ Paul sounded embarrassed. ‘Shit! Sorry Lou!’

‘Don’t be,’ she chirped. Maybe cheery optimism was the
way to get through this. ‘Make-up costs a bomb. The amount I used to trowel on, I’m going to save a bloody fortune.’

‘You look great!’ Jake called over. ‘Younger.’

‘Thanks! I just thought it was time you all got the chance to see me,’ she said brightly. ‘I mean, really
see
me.’

Jake and Paul looked puzzled. Lou couldn’t be bothered to elaborate. Instead she turned to the optics and started to replace the empty bottles, smiling as she caught a glimpse of her freshly scrubbed reflection peering back at her from the steel.