Perfect Stranger (22 page)

I stared at my bathroom mirror. I looked the same. Tired, yes, and my face was gray and puffy, but no worse than if I had a bad hangover. The only people who knew, apart from the medical staff, were Sophie, Jordan, and Isaac.

Could I pretend it never happened?
No
. Just because I didn’t go around telling everyone, didn’t mean I wasn’t mourning. Besides, what would I say? Hey, I lost a baby? I threw my husband away at the same time, but
that
was by choice?

It was too soon. I hadn’t wrapped my head around the
idea
of being pregnant, let alone the reality, and then it was gone. Snatched away. There wasn’t even a heartbeat—too soon for that. No ultrasound. Nothing to remember it by.

Was it my fault? I’d felt ill for days beforehand, but didn’t let it slow me down. If I’d listened to my body, would it have been different? I looked at my flat belly. Maybe it was me? Some fault inside. That might have been my one and only chance to have a baby.

Guilt burrowed deep inside my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. I should have made time. I was robbed. I’d been so busy, stressing about everything else, that I hadn’t celebrated the miracle inside me. To me, it’d been a problem. I’d had no time to get excited, or think about names or whether I wanted a boy or a girl. No time to wonder if it would have my eyes or Jordan’s.

He would be amazing as a father. And while I’d argued over getting married, I trusted him when he said it could work. I loved him, even if I couldn’t admit it.

Tears filled my eyes, but I held them back this time.

“Take a few weeks off work,” was the advice of my kind doctor. He’d given me a bundle of pamphlets about managing grief and warned me my hormones might take some time to settle down.

I didn’t tell him I no longer worked. No job. No husband. No baby.

My knees buckled, and I sat on the edge of the bathtub, as the now familiar pain sliced through me.
Define
some time
, I asked, but he shook his head. Did he mean days? Weeks? Months?

I couldn’t imagine ever feeling the same. The old Kate was as dead as my marriage, as empty as my womb.

I couldn’t get Jordan’s face out of my head. My last sight of him in the hospital. He was ashen, with a pain in his eyes that I recognised. I saw it every time I looked in the mirror.

One day I’d figure out how I felt about him. Like a giant basket of yarn, my emotions were too tangled to unravel right now. Love was there, messed up with anger, shock, and sadness. Guilt too, although what the fuck I had to feel guilty about was beyond me. Not staying to talk to him, maybe? Nope. I shoved down the lid on that train of thought. I wasn’t ready to go there.

I needed a new focus. A distraction. Staying in Manchester was impossible. This was my previous life, a movie I was written out of and had no hope of appearing in again.

I didn’t have to stay, though. If losing Gran was the first broken link in the chain that unravelled my life, her old house might be the start of a new one.

I grabbed the idea with both hands. I could pack up everything I needed and leave by tonight. There were just a couple of loose ends to tidy first.

It was a fabulous week. The Edinburgh trip was a breeze. Barker Distribution loved our combined pitch. I stayed with Rob in a classy four-star hotel, and we remained there an extra day, to play tourist. When Kate’s text arrived, I was concerned, but not enough to let it dent my good mood.

She asked to meet urgently for coffee. Could I make Starbucks at twelve-thirty? I said
yes
, and then got caught up in work again.

Hurrying along Deansgate to our usual café, I saw Isobel ahead of me and called her name. We hugged briefly on the busy street and went to place our drink orders together.

“Kate summoned you?” Her smile was so pretty. “Any idea why?”

“None. I hope she’s okay.”

“That bloke of hers is a surly git. I don’t know what she sees in him.” Isobel had told me about the wedding in detail, to my relief not in front of Rob. She’d agreed to be discreet on that score.

With our drinks in hand, we squeezed through the lunch-time rush to our favorite seats in the corner. Kate sat there, nursing a glass of water. Isobel and I wore business clothes, but Kate was in a faded Oasis T-shirt and jeans. She mustn’t be back at work yet.

“Hey.” I went toward her for a hug, but she shrank back. “What’s up?” I asked.

She said nothing until Isobel and I were sitting on the sofa. She gazed at us both, her face tired and drawn. “I’ve got something to tell you. I’m leaving Manchester.”

Isobel spoke first. “Moving to London, to be with Jordan? You’ll find a new job easily.” Her voice trailed away.

Kate narrowed her eyes and stared at her. “You knew, didn’t you? About ComCo.”

Huh? “What are you talking about?” It felt as if I’d jumped forward and skipped half the conversation.

“I didn’t really know.” Isobel fiddled with her spoon, her attention on the drink before her.

“Didn’t
really
know?” Kate echoed the words. “Is that another way of saying
yes
?”

“Well…”

“Adam told you.”

“Not exactly.”

I looked from one to the other. Isobel hunched over, as though to ward off a blow. Kate on the edge of her seat, pink cheeked and furious.

“Let me guess,” Kate said. “Darling Adam said something about how pleased he was to get rid of me, and you never thought to mention it. You came to my wedding, Isobel. I thought you were my friend. Guess I was wrong, huh?”

“
Stop
.” I raised my hands and my voice. “What the hell are you talking about? You’ve lost me.”

“I’m sorry.” Isobel snarled the words, as if I hadn’t spoken. She sounded anything but sorry. “He said something in passing, and I didn’t make the connection until now. He’ll give you a great reference. You’ll find something much better in London.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Kate continued. “Friends don’t behave like that. You’re engaged to Greg, and yet you’re still messing around with that bastard. I wouldn’t touch him if he were the last man on earth. Good luck with that. Just don’t come looking for sympathy when it all falls apart.”

“I’m outta here.” Isobel stormed away from the table.

I gazed openmouthed at her as she pushed through the lunchtime rush. Isobel was seeing Adam? How long had that been going on? “Kate, what happened?”

“I’ve been
restructured
out of ComCo. By Jordan. He might not have signed the paperwork, but his company was behind it.” She stretched out her hands and stared at her fingers. “I’ve left him, and I’m moving out of Manchester.”

“To London?”

She huffed a tired laugh. “No. Wales. I’m going to take a few months off, see if I can figure out where to go from here.” Her voice faltered, her gaze fixed over my shoulder. I looked. A young woman lifted a tiny baby and hugged it to her chest. I looked back at Kate. She rubbed her eyes and took an unsteady breath.

“Umm, you’ve been married five minutes. Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“Thanks, Jen. As for you, you can carry on spreading rumors about me and Cade, or me and the freaking Pope. I don’t care. I’m done.” She got up and walked away, without a backward glance.

I watched speechless and unsettled as Kate melted into the crowded café. What the holy fuck was that all about?

The crumbling old house at Rhosneigr would be my sanctuary. My bolt hole. I packed a few clothes and toiletries, cleaned out the fridge, and set off for North Wales. The normally-two-hour drive took ages. I had to keep stopping while I composed myself.

Jordan was right about Isobel. Had she always been so self-centered, or was it since she hooked up with Adam? I didn’t know which hurt more—thinking about the years of friendship with her, or the love I still felt for Jordan. Even now, after everything that happened, I yearned for him.

He made me feel more in the few weeks we were together, than any other man I’d been with. When he held me, I felt safe.

Not any more though. I had to learn to function without him.

A week after Kate dropped off the edge of the planet, Isobel invited me for drinks at the Quay House. She was celebrating a big win at work, and since it was Rob’s night to play football, I could attend. Cade was away on a client site in Bradford, so Rob could pick me up at the pub, and everyone was happy.

It also gave me a chance to talk to Isobel about Kate.

It was a busy evening, with Isobel’s team sitting outside, in the late summer sunshine. They made a noisy, good-natured crowd, and I saw a couple of familiar faces from ComCo—Paula and Dave. Our previous temporary receptionist was there too. Paula explained Cherise now temped for ComCo, hence her joining them for drinks. The world of IT salespeople grew ever more tangled.

“How come you’re here?” I asked Paula. “Not celebrating a J&J win, surely?”

“Nah. We’ve come out to get away from the Fuhrer. He’s been in a bitch of a mood since Kate resigned, and Isobel invited us along.”

From what Kate said, she’d been made redundant rather than resigning. I wasted no time telling Paula the truth.

“What an arsehole.” She took a swig of her drink. “I’ve already applied to J&J for a job. Without Kate, ComCo sucks.” She nudged me with her elbow. “There are only two people that get a smile out of Adam at the moment. Arse-licker-extraordinaire Colin, and Fuck-Me-in-the-Stationery-Cupboard Cherise.” She laughed as she spoke. “Stupid cow went around bragging about it. This is her second time at ComCo, and I doubt Adam will hire her a third. She’s getting awfully clingy.”

Speak of the devil… Adam strolled up to the long table, a scruffy-haired guy by his side.

“Is that Colin?” I asked.

“Yup.”

I watched, curious to see how Adam greeted Isobel. He slung a friendly arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek, while she blushed and smiled.

Meanwhile, Cherise got up and trotted to him. “Let me get you a drink.”

“No, thanks.” He turned back to Isobel.

“Maybe a lift home?” Cherise had no qualms about interrupting his conversation.

His face was thundery when he snapped a reply. “I’m not going that way.”

“Maybe a lift into town?”

“I’m busy, Cherise. Find someone else.”

Paula snorted into her drink. “See what I mean?”

I was seeing a lot of things, including Adam’s hand on Isobel’s ass. My mind spun. Isobel claimed to be friends with Marella, Adam’s girlfriend. Yeah, right. How big an idiot was I, for believing her?

“Please,” said the young temp. “I can be ready whenever you are. I need to talk to you.”

“Fuck off, Cherise.”

Her shocked gasp was audible at the other end of the table. A moment later, she threw the contents of her drink in his face. I watched in appalled fascination.

“I
love
you,” she shrieked. “Why do you treat me like dirt?”

Wow. This was better than TV. Every conversation stopped, and all eyes were on Adam, waiting for his response. He calmly wiped his face on the trailing edge of his shirt, and then glanced at Colin. “Take her home.” To my relief, he left a few minutes later, but Isobel disappeared at the same time.

Somebody was operating a drill. Or maybe a hammer. No matter which way I turned, the noise didn’t stop. The banging was relentless, and somewhere in my brain, I recognized it. As I considered opening my eyes, the doorbell rang. Whoever wanted me, now had their finger on the bell.

“For fuck’s sake.” I tried to block out the noise with a pillow, but it was no use. I couldn’t smell smoke, so the apartment wasn’t on fire. I just had someone very persistent at the door.

Sitting up was a mistake. Separate hammers started work, beating out a new rhythm inside my head. All the while, the ringing continued. This was getting annoying.

“Jesus,” I muttered, as I lurched out of the bedroom. My eyelids felt glued together, and my stomach protested the rude awakening. Waves of nausea rose, as I stumbled toward the door.

How did they make it up to my apartment, anyway? That was what lobby security was for. To keep people out.

“
Jordan
.” 

Marcus. I dragged back the bolt, turned the key, and scowled at my friend. “Where’s the fire? What’s so urgent you had to get me out of bed at this ungodly hour?” I squinted at my watch. The hands and numbers danced a little, then blurred, and I gave up. For some reason, I was already dressed.

“
Ungodly hour?
It’s ten-thirty.”

“It’s my day off.” I left Marcus to close the door, and set off for the kitchen. I needed to sit down.

“You don’t have a day off. Especially not when Thaddeus is in town.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” A thought struck me. “Why didn’t you call?”

“I tried.” Marcus’s voice was grim, as he surveyed the mess. “Your cellphone is switched off.” He bent over the pile of pizza boxes and empty Miller bottles, and fished out my phone. “Your cleaner is going to have a stroke when she sees this.”

“It’s what she’s paid for.” I found a semi-comfortable position at the kitchen table, with my head resting on my arms. The incessant pounding softened a little. I closed my eyes.

Small noises around me indicated Marcus was brewing coffee and tidying away the trash.

“Have some caffeine.” There was a gentle thump of a mug being placed on the table, and I acknowledged it with a grunt, reluctant to move.

“Where’d you go last night?” Marcus sat across the table from me, obviously expecting conversation.

I lifted my head and winced at the movement. “I went for a beer with Alain Demaine, from the Paris office. He wanted to go to a strip club.” I sipped the coffee. So far, so good. My stomach seemed quiet for the moment.

“Thaddeus is expecting you for lunch.”

“Fuck.” I didn’t want to see my father. Not today. I hadn’t talked to him since Kate left. The only person I’d talked to was Louisa, and that was in a weak and drunken moment. I wanted to put the whole Kate episode behind me. Pretend it never happened.

Like that was working so well.

“Cassie asked me to come round. She was worried. Thought you had an accident. I’d better update her.” Marcus called my office, asked her to delay lunch for as long as possible, and then turned his attention back to me. “You look like shit.”

“I’ve felt better.”

“Go shower. I’ll wait here.”

I shrugged and instantly regretted it. My head pounded again. I paused before speaking. “You go. I’ll come in as soon as I’m ready.”

“Nah, I’ll wait. I promised Cassie I’d deliver you to your office.”

“You’re not my keeper, Marcus. I’m perfectly capable.”

“Falling asleep—or passing out—fully dressed is
capable
? I bet you don’t even remember coming home last night.”

“That’s not true.” I felt deathly tired and not in the mood for an argument.

“How?”

“How what?”

“How did you get home?”

“Does it matter?” I wasn’t going to admit I had no idea.

Marcus sighed. “You have to get over her. It’s been weeks. You can’t go on like this.”

Four weeks and two days. “Who?” I feigned nonchalance. “If you mean Kate, she’s history. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about her.”

“I don’t believe that. If I’d lost my wife and unborn child, I’d be a mess too.” He wasn’t pulling any punches, and he wasn’t finished. “One way or another, you have to sort yourself out. Either forget her, or make it work.”

“Too late for that.” I rubbed my eyes and thought longingly about crawling back to bed. “Sophie told me she moved to Wales. And she wants no more contact. She’s filing for a divorce.”

“Fuck. So it’s over?”

“You got it in one.” I yawned. “I only knew her a couple months; I don’t know why I let her get to me.”

“I have a suggestion, and I think you should listen. I’m sick of staying in hotels, and Lou wants to come over while I build up the Europe operations. Why don’t we move in here, with you? There’s plenty of room.”

I sighed and managed to lift my head without flinching. “Nice try, Marcus. Like I said, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You need some help, and I’m your oldest friend. D’you think I’m gonna stand by and watch you drink yourself into an early grave? It doesn’t work like that.” I ignored him, but he didn’t take the hint. “Lou is worried sick about you. If she comes to stay for a few weeks and sees you’re okay, she’ll leave you alone.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Besides”—there was an apologetic smile—”she’s on her way over, whether you like it or not. She’ll be here tomorrow morning. And if you think I’m being a pain in the butt…”

The fuck?
“Tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

“You planned this.”

Marcus shrugged. “I can’t control Louisa, as you well know. So I may as well move in too. Stop her from nagging you.”

“Jesus. I’ll have no peace. Marcus, you’re an interfering son of a bitch.”

He grinned and took my empty mug. “Go shower. I’ll wait here.”

I pushed the chair back, cringing at the noise. Marcus was right. I was a mess. My apartment was a mess. My fucking
life
was a mess. And still, the last thing I saw at night was Kate’s face.