It was only when she arrived at the office that Laurie allowed herself to acknowledge her disappointment. There had been no sign of Paul on the cycle ride in. What were the odds of them meeting again like that? It presumably wouldn’t be too hard to engineer. That junction between Eversholt Street and the Euston Road – the one where they’d met for a second time the week before – would be the best place. Would it be reasonable for Laurie to wait there? Or was she turning into a crazy mad stalker-woman? What was stopping her from just calling him?
Michael was already at his desk, looking, if it were possible, even paler than he had before the weekend. He hardly glanced at Laurie, but had an air of panic about him, that of someone in no mood to have an assistant suggest a different way of doing things. It was probably best if she just showed him.
So Laurie forgot about Paul, about keys, about men under trains, and concentrated on work – on using her brain, as Dad would put it. When was the last time she’d done more than just the minimum required to get by? Before Mum died, of course. That was when she’d stopped bothering. Despite herself, and the undemanding life she had been leading, very deliberately, over the last few years, Laurie had to admit there was something quite satisfying about it.
‘You know that’s the second time in a week you’ve worked through your lunch break?’
Laurie raised her eyes, embarrassed, to see Linda standing beside her. It was true, Laurie realised. She’d never noticed any of the other assistants doing the same. Was she breaking some sort of unwritten rule? ‘It’s just …’ she began, then stopped, defeated. If she had transgressed, then anything she said would make it worse. Besides, if that was the time, she might have missed a call from Paul. She got out her mobile – nothing – then looked up to realise Linda was still there. Now she was being rude; Laurie could feel herself beginning to blush.
Linda, however, was smiling. ‘Don’t worry. I only came to give you this.’
‘This’ was a retrospective holiday form for the previous day. Linda handed it over with some words of advice. ‘You should have just called in sick. Less paperwork, as long as it’s for no more than three days. No one’s going to mind. It’s not like you’re going to make a habit of it.’
‘Thanks.’
Laurie took the form and would have turned back to her computer, but Linda clearly had more to say. ‘In fact, I haven’t had lunch yet. Do you fancy joining me?’
Laurie looked across at Michael, who continued to ignore her in the way he had all morning, then back up at Linda. ‘Sure,’ she replied. ‘That would be fun.’
Over a pizza, Laurie learnt about Linda’s life, about how things were a bit easier now the kids were at school. She got the train in at seven-thirty, but Steve was able to drop them off at breakfast club before going to his own job for the council. Then they went into homework club after school. That ended at six-thirty, so she always left the office at half five on the dot so she could be there to pick them up. If her train was delayed she had to call Steve; then he had to make up the time another day. She missed out on overtime, of course, and Laurie didn’t need to be told that was where the real money was, but she was still earning more than enough from the job to justify the commute. She’d been there five years by now – only six people in the office had been there longer.
‘But the kids aren’t at school now, are they? How do you manage?’
‘Tell me about it: six weeks. It’s lovely to see more of them, and they need the break, poor loves, but it’s murder organising it all. My mum helps out a bit. Steve and I each take some time off separately. Then we’re all having one week off together in Spain. I can’t wait.’
‘So how did you meet Steve?’ Laurie hoped the question wasn’t crossing an unacceptable line towards overfamiliarity.
‘Salsa classes!’ Linda laughed. ‘You know, if I was single now I’d probably try internet dating, but ten years ago I don’t think I’d even heard of it. I was working for BarCap then, team assistant in corporate finance, earning good money. I could do the overtime then, of course. Most evenings I wasn’t getting home until after nine. I still lived with Mum and Dad. Anyway, I wasn’t meeting anyone. The boys in the bank weren’t interested. Or they were, but only in one thing, if you know what I mean. I soon realised that was a mug’s game; stopped before I got a reputation. So I went to salsa classes to meet people. First lesson – there was Steve. He’s never been much cop at dancing, I’ll tell you that for free. He was there for the same reason. We got chatting. One thing led to another. Never went back for the second lesson. Never even paid for the course, either.’ Linda laughed again. ‘So, you got a boyfriend, partner, whatever?’
‘No … well, perhaps. That is to say, I don’t know.’ Laurie could feel the heat prickling her scalp as her reply petered out. It was her own fault, she knew, for bringing up the subject.
Linda, however, was contrite, if only briefly. ‘I’m sorry – personal question, none of my business. I think it’s good the way you keep yourself to yourself at the office. I wasn’t a woman of mystery at your age, I can tell you.’
Laurie looked at Linda. Was she teasing her? Should she just play along? There was no sign of guile in the friendly, if speculative, look the older woman was giving her.
‘It’s just, well, I don’t make friends easily, or haven’t done since I moved to London. I go back to Somerset to see my Dad most weekends. Perhaps I should try salsa classes.’ Laurie smiled, happy to have taken the edge off her confession with a joke.
‘It’s a big place.’ Linda nodded. ‘Not that I’ve ever lived here, of course. I’d certainly never dare cycle. It’s pretty impressive the way you seem to know your way around. How long have you been here? Less than a year?’
Laurie nodded.
‘Well, sounds to me like you’ve got nothing to worry about. Besides – and I’m not prying – if you have got a boyfriend, that’s as good as way as any to get your social life going. You don’t need salsa classes. Call him up! Take him clubbing!’
Back in the office, Laurie thought about what Linda had said. Should she phone Paul there and then? The idea was deeply appealing: she’d better think about it first. Besides, Michael was still opposite her, tapping away. However much he might be avoiding her eye at the moment, he’d still hardly be able to avoid overhearing her. Anyway, she was just starting to get somewhere with her Excel macros. In a couple of hours, with a following wind, she might have something to show him.