Marina had chased her hangover away long enough to get out of bed, make herself a coffee and get back in with the morning papers. Josephina had spent the night with Eileen and she was enjoying the first lie-in she had had for several weeks. She was under the duvet, an old Natalie Merchant album on the bedroom CD player, the mug of hot coffee to her lips, when her mobile rang.
She placed the coffee on the bedside table, picked it up. Her first thought was: Eileen. Something’s happened to Josephina. But she dismissed it from her mind. She could be forgiven for thinking like that after everything that had happened recently. Her second thought: Phil. Catching up with her, wishing her a good morning since they had missed each other the night before.
The night before. She shuddered.
She checked the phone’s display. It was neither of those. It was a number she didn’t recognise. She answered.
‘Hello?’
‘Good morning.’ The voice overly cheerful, a redcoat at a holiday camp chivvying up the late sleepers.
Oh God, thought Marina, a sales call, and made to hang up.
‘Not up and about yet, Marina? Shame on you. Glorious day, you’re missing it.’
She stopped, finger poised above the button. She knew that voice. It took her a few seconds but she placed it. Hugo Gwilym.
‘Hugo?’
‘Who else would it be?’ He gave a chuckle. That was the only way she could categorise the sound – a chuckle.
She looked round the room, confused. It somehow felt wrong hearing his voice in here. This was her and Phil’s room. Private. She felt stupid and a little ashamed for thinking it, but it was almost like an invasion.
‘How… What are you calling for?’
‘Just wanted to say thank you. For last night.’
She said nothing. Waited for her memory to come back.
‘You can’t remember last night?’ Another chuckle, deeper this time, heavy with meaning. ‘I can.’
‘Course…’ Could she? Her memory flashed back. What was he talking about? What had happened? She tried to order events. The details were cloudy. She was sure she hadn’t drunk that much. She tried to think. The dinner. Everyone talking, laughing. Then Hugo arrived. Smarming all over her. She could remember glances and looks from the rest of the table, not all of them approving. Had she done something wrong? She didn’t think so. They had chatted. Well, argued was a better word. He had explained his theories, she had rebutted them. Then… nothing. It all became hazy from there on.
She looked round the room once more. Her clothes were piled on the chair in the corner where she had taken them off before getting into bed. She could barely remember that. Or how she got home.
Her face reddened, her heart tripped. How much had she had to drink? Not much. A gin and tonic before the dinner, a couple of glasses of red during. Nothing after. Her colleagues were still pretty new – she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of them so she had been moderating her intake. And then… nothing. Until she woke up.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t want to think you’d forgotten me.’
She had no idea what he was talking about or what had happened, so she said nothing.
‘Speechless? Not like you. You are still there, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m still here.’
‘Good. Thought for a minute you’d nodded off. No chance of that last night, though, was there?’
She had to say something. ‘What… what d’you mean?’
‘Last night,’ he said, an irritable edge to his voice, as if it was beneath him to explain. ‘I mean about what happened last night.’
‘What did happen last night?’
Another laugh, more like an explosion this time. ‘Well that’s an insult, I must say.’
Marina’s head was spinning from more than just the alcohol residue. ‘Just… tell me what happened.’
‘You know what happened. You were there.’
‘Humour me. Pretend I wasn’t.’
Another noise – an intake of breath, a snort, she couldn’t be sure – then a sentence started and quickly halted before she could make out what he was saying. ‘We… had fun.’
Her stomach flipped over. She thought she was going to be sick. ‘What kind of fun?’
‘What kind d’you think?’
Suddenly Marina’s skin was too hot for her body and she felt like she wanted to claw it off. Her head spun again, her breathing fast and irregular. It was how what she imagined one of Phil’s old panic attacks felt like.
‘I… I…’
Another chuckle. ‘Two I’s. Very egotistical. But I like that in a woman.’
‘I… don’t know what you’re talking about…’
‘Oh come on, don’t be bashful. Don’t try and pretend it never happened. We’re all grown-ups here. Deal with it and move on.’
Marina said nothing.
‘Until the next time.’
‘What? What are you… I can’t even remember the last time. There’s not… there’s not going to be a next time.’
‘Would you like to meet for lunch? I’ll pay.’
‘Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying?’
‘I am. And I’m asking you to lunch today. And you’re going to say yes.’
‘Oh, am I?’
‘You are.’
‘Why?’
Another chuckle. ‘Because I’m a much better psychologist, and a better reader of people for that matter, than you give me credit for. And because you won’t let this go without seeing me. For whatever reasons you think you may have.’
Marina said nothing. She could hear her breathing, the blood pumping round her body, hot and fast.
‘All right. When and where?’
He told her. ‘And don’t be late. I can’t abide that.’ The words carried an undertow of threat. He hung up.
Marina flung the phone on the bed. Looked around the room, taking in the walls like a zoo animal trapped in its cage.
She took a mouthful of coffee. It was still hot. It tasted cold.
Then she ran to the bathroom and threw up.