The last time Jessica and Dulcie had gone out dancing in LA had been a few months ago. They’d gone to a party in Paris Hilton’s legendary basement, which was actually a nightclub, complete with dance floor and pole to swing round. It had been a fun night and everyone had let their hair down to a degree, though never at the expense of their looks. The girls there had been careful to drink only enough to make them feel more uninhibited than usual, but not so much that they lost their handbag or control of their lip gloss coverage. When a tune came on that they liked they’d whooped coquettishly, raising one limp hand in the air, while continuing to dance sexily in their sky-high heels. Heels that were agonizingly painful to dance in, but that elongated their calves.
It seemed like a small thing at first but, as the rather well-oiled group left the pub, Jessica noticed that while the British girls’ heels were high, they weren’t so high that they wouldn’t be able to have a ‘bloody good dance’. Somehow she knew this would have been a factor in their decision to choose clumpy wedges over spindly heels and it spoke volumes to her. It seemed symbolic of the difference in attitude between the Brits and their privileged Hollywood counterparts. In short, Kerry and the others cared more about having fun than looking good and Jessica felt something akin to relief to confirm that the weird, image-obsessed microcosm she’d been brought up in wasn’t the only way.
They weaved their way through Soho, an experience in itself on a Saturday night, and upon reaching the club found they had to wait in line, despite being on the guest list. When the rope was finally lifted for the group, Dulcie couldn’t resist saying, ‘I can’t believe I’m even doing this. I’ve never waited in line for anything in my life.’
‘First time for everything,’ said Paul sharply before walking in.
‘Please,’ Jessica implored her friend, ‘can you at least try to sound a little more down to earth?’
‘All right,’ said Dulcie, ‘but don’t go loco on me. You know half the time I only say things for the sake of it.’
By this time they were walking downstairs to the basement club and could hear the first strains of the music inside. Isy, who was just behind them, was the first to figure out what tune was playing. She let out the sort of delighted shriek normally reserved for a hen night in Magaluf and barged past them, so desperate was she to get inside.
‘What is it?’ said Jessica. ‘What are they playing?’
Dulcie was next to work it out, though didn’t stop to explain either. Instead she shoved past Jessica and raced Isy to the dance floor, any pretence at being cool having been abandoned. It was ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ by Cyndi Lauper. Jessica was soon hot on their heels and it wasn’t long before the three girls were swirling around on the dance floor, singing along loudly. At one point, thinking that Isy was doing a funny dance for their benefit, Jessica and Dulcie laughed out loud until they realized that she wasn’t and that it was just her unique style. Their faces fell as they worried that they might have hurt Isy’s feelings, but they needn’t have panicked. Isy was dancing with such passion she remained oblivious to the various odd looks she was getting, and not just from Jessica and Dulcie.
Paul, who for obvious reasons hadn’t exactly had the same reaction to the tune, entered the club at a more relaxed pace, but grinned the minute he spotted Jessica and her friends. He was surprised to see Dulcie entering into the spirit of things so enthusiastically but, then again, recently he seemed to be feeling permanently surprised about something … or someone. He stood and watched Jessica spinning around, mouthing the words of the song and exuding so much happiness he felt positively uplifted. Jessica Bender definitely put a smile on his face and at this rate he might be in danger of losing his mean and moody reputation. She was gorgeous and she looked so fit in that dress.
Luke signalled across to him. He’d found some seats right next to the dance floor from where they could watch their female colleagues flinging themselves around in comfort.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Luke. ‘What is Isy doing? She looks like she’s left her medication at home or something.’
Paul grinned. ‘She’s like one of those drama students. You know, the ones who express themselves through movement. I am a tree.’
‘At least Scary Spice is joining in,’ shouted Luke as the DJ mixed the next track in. ‘And Bender’s not a bad little mover, is she?’
Paul flicked his friend the finger but grinned as he did so. The music was so loud there wasn’t much point in talking so they sat back and enjoyed the show, both concentrating on the women they were interested in. Although, unless you were extremely observant, when it came to Luke it was hard to tell who that was.
Luke was used to keeping the way he felt about Kerry hidden, but the fact was he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember. For as long as he could remember, Kerry had also been very vocal and very clear about her list. Her list of what she did and didn’t want in a bloke. Her list that she had shared with the entire office … As a result of said list, Luke knew that Kerry did want to meet someone who could make her laugh. That part he felt he could manage. She also wanted someone who was solvent, kind and honest and who loved her more than she loved him. Ditto all of the above.
She didn’t want, however, to be with anyone who didn’t like dogs. Luke loved dogs. She also didn’t want anyone racist, snobby, pretentious or stuck-up. Fine. Though she definitely did want someone with a good head of hair and her ideal man had to be tall. These particular criteria she’d announced on more than one occasion, to more than one person. Luke was never going to be tall and there was a reason he always wore his beloved hat.
Furthermore, Kerry didn’t want to be with anyone who worked in the same industry because she worried they’d never have anything to talk about, and she definitely couldn’t be with a mummy’s boy. Luke worked in TV and loved his mum a ridiculous amount. In fact, if he had flu he couldn’t swear, hand on heart, that he wouldn’t want his mum to look after him over and above everyone else. In a nutshell, over the year and a half that Luke had known Kerry she had said enough to ensure that he didn’t feel able to let his feelings be known as she’d made it clear that if he did, for some of the reasons above, she would reject him. So he settled for adoring her from afar, spent a lot of time praying that she wouldn’t meet anyone else and, for one very worrying day, considered investing in some Cuban heels.
Meanwhile, Jessica was in a world of her own. This place was her idea of nirvana. The vibe was amazing and so unlike the places she went to in LA. She wasn’t the only one to notice.
‘Oh my gosh, Jess,’ screamed Dulcie, her eyes shining with excitement. ‘This is so cool. I’m having … fun. I can’t even remember the last time I just went for it without worrying about what people would think of me.’
‘Good, isn’t it?’ said Jessica, grinning at her friend, enjoying seeing her so happy and relaxed.
‘It’s great,’ agreed Dulcie. ‘I have to admit I can even kinda see why you like it here.’
‘I know, the music’s brilliant.’
‘I didn’t mean that. I meant here in London, with these people. They’re OK, you know? And you seem happy. In fact, seeing you doing your own thing has made me understand why you needed to get away.’ The two girls embraced. ‘But, listen, don’t think you need to babysit me. I’m cool hanging with your friends if you want to go find lover boy.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ protested Jessica.
‘I’m not,’ said Dulcie. ‘He’s a judgemental asshole, but I can tell you like him and he is nice-looking.’
Jessica shook her head. ‘I admit there’s something about him … maybe, but there’s no real point getting to know him better when I don’t even know how long I’m going to be here for.’
‘Why not?’ asked Dulcie, looking genuinely puzzled.
‘Because it’s not like it could ever work out or anything.’
Just then Isy emerged from the crowd, looking dishevelled. ‘Dulcie, my old leopard snake, come and do the wolf dance with me.’
‘Coming,’ called Dulcie. ‘You know what?’ she said to Jessica, her dark eyes glittering. ‘I think you’re so brave for coming here, but when it comes down to it you’re too scared to give anything that might actually force you to feel something a go. I don’t get it, Jess,’ she said, shrugging despondently.
‘Come on,’ said Isy, dragging Dulcie away.
‘I love this girl!’ yelled Dulcie over her shoulder. ‘She has to come to LA. She’s a scream. Paris would love her.’
Jessica briefly put her finger to her mouth, warning her friend to keep quiet about life back in LA. What Dulcie had just said had annoyed her. She did like Paul, it was true, and she was seriously tempted to encourage a fling, but didn’t want to end up hurt.
‘Hey, you,’ said a voice in her ear. She knew who it was without having to turn round.
‘Do you want to come and sit down?’ Paul asked.
Contradicting everything she’d just been thinking, she nodded, even ignoring the fact that ‘Dancing Queen’ had just come on, which proved how much she liked him.
They found a free table and she flung herself down next to him. ‘Hi,’ she said shyly, feelings of self-consciousness returning by the bucketload.
‘Having a good time then?’ Paul asked her.
‘Oh, gosh, yes,’ she answered, amazed he couldn’t tell. ‘This place is awe– oh – you’re kidding, right?’
‘Yes, Miss Bender, I am kidding,’ he said.
They regarded each other for a while and as Jessica stared into his eyes she noticed, not for the first time, that he had the most amazing eyelashes. The funny feeling in her stomach returned. Paul uncrossed his arms, leaned forward and brushed a stray bit of her hair back behind her ear. She gulped. She had never wanted anybody to kiss her quite so much as she wanted Paul Fletcher to kiss her right now. What would be so wrong with having a holiday romance anyway? Typically, however, just when Paul seemed to be thinking the same thing, Kerry barrelled over, hotly pursued by a very drunk-looking Luke. The two of them were clearly on a mission and were carrying trays of potent-looking shots.
‘Here you go, you two,’ she said. Then, ‘Isy, Van, Tash, Scary Spice!’ she screeched at an impressive decibel that the girls could hear from the other side of the dance floor.
‘Wow,’ said Paul. ‘Your voice is like … a dog whistle – not that I’m calling them dogs or anything,’ he added hurriedly as they all came dancing over. Jessica noticed that Dulcie couldn’t keep her eyes off Isy. She looked positively star-struck by the younger girl.
‘Oh my God,’ Isy was screeching breathlessly now. ‘I just snogged a Japanese tourist who told me I’m the best dancer he’s ever seen in his life.’
‘I’d like to see the worst,’ said Luke and, as Isy proceeded to do her impression of what the worst might look like, everyone cracked up. One by one, they all went to grab a flaming Sambuca from Kerry’s tray and as they did Jessica felt quite overwhelmed by the wonderful feeling of camaraderie amongst these new friends she’d made in England. God, she was drunk. So was Dulcie.
‘I’d like to say something to the group,’ her friend was saying now, her voice a little slurred.
‘Go for it,’ said Kerry good-humouredly.
‘OK, well, I know we didn’t exactly get off to a great start, and that you wouldn’t have me on your show in a million years, but I still think you guys are pretty awesome. You’re wrong too, obviously, because I’d actually be a brilliant guest, but you’re still awesome nonetheless. So thanks for having me tonight and please make sure you look after Jess for me when I’m back in the States.’
‘We will,’ said Kerry.
‘You can count on it,’ added Vanessa, her accent more pronounced than ever. Dulcie stared at her blankly, clearly not having understood what she’d said. Jessica giggled. It wasn’t just her then.
‘I reckon she’s doing quite a good job of looking after herself,’ piped up Paul with only the slightest edge to his voice.
Dulcie narrowed her eyes. ‘Well, it’s up to you,’ she said, ‘but you have no idea what you’d be up against if you messed her around in any way. Oh my God, Mr G gets pissed even if –’
‘OK, let’s not bore everybody about that, Dulcie,’ yelled Jessica, sort of launching herself at her friend.
‘Oh, sure,’ agreed Dulcie, checking herself.
‘I always get this feeling there’s something you’re not telling us, Jessica,’ shouted Natasha across the din.
Jessica was just debating what to say when she was saved by the DJ’s next choice of record. It was ‘Baby One More Time’ by Britney Spears and as soon as they heard the familiar opening chords, all the girls, including Natasha, decided that dancing was more of a pressing need than interrogating Jessica and rushed back to the dance floor. Jessica’s head was left swirling. Should she follow them? Then Paul reached out for her hand. She sat back down. There was no contest really.
‘It’s my soundalike,’ she said loudly. By this point nothing was being said any more, only shouted. ‘Didn’t you guys decide I sound like Britney?’
Paul grinned. ‘We’re horrid to you, aren’t we?’
‘Kinda,’ she said, shrugging. ‘But, hey, you’re all pretty nice underneath.’
‘Good,’ said Paul. ‘So you’ll be staying in England for a while then?’
Jessica thought of home, and her dad and about Dulcie leaving tomorrow, and experienced a sharp pang of homesickness, yet knew she was here a while longer.
‘Yes. I think I will. I like England,’ she replied, the drink making her feel uninhibited. ‘Even if it is a weird old place.’
‘Can’t be weirder than the country that let that idiot Bush run them for all those years,’ said Paul unimaginatively. He was drunk too.
‘Whatever,’ Jessica retorted, laughing, ‘and besides, shouldn’t you be looking at how many great things there are about my country, and how much of our culture you guys love? What track is the DJ playing right now, for crissakes? And you know we make the best shows, so get over it.’
Paul laughed. ‘You are hilarious, Jessica Bender. Not my cup of tea in so many ways and yet I can tell you’re all right really.’
‘Oh, really?’ she said, displaying her straight, white, orthodontically dealt-with teeth.
‘Really,’ he replied, flashing his own slightly crooked, home-grown ones.
‘Well, that’s very good of you to say so,’ she said simply and he grinned. The two of them sat in happy silence for a while, laughing now and then at the others’ antics on the dance floor. Vanessa was holding on to Isy’s ankles and guiding her round the club like a wheelbarrow, until they both collapsed on the floor from laughing so hard. The Japanese tourist was clutching his sides and taking hundreds of photos, clearly enamoured with Isy, who was wearing her quirkiest outfit yet, an original concoction of tartan, lace and Doc Martens.
‘You’d never catch any of my friends at home doing that kind of thing.’
Paul shot her a quizzical look, as if a world without people doing wheelbarrows in nightclubs was unimaginable.
‘It’s true,’ said Jessica. ‘You Brits are so much more relaxed about stuff. Take people’s attitudes to how they look, for instance. I was watching something with my aunt. I think it was called Coronation Street? Anyway, I couldn’t believe how ordinary the cast looked, which is so cool, because that way you don’t end up comparing yourself unfavourably with people the whole time and … am I making sense?’
‘I’m enjoying the speech,’ said Paul. ‘Carry on.’
Jessica blushed and scrunched up her nose.
‘I’m serious,’ said Paul, and for once he sounded it. ‘I like hearing you chat about things. Tell me what other conclusions you’ve come to about our green and pleasant land.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘OK,’ said Jessica, battling against the volume. ‘Well, I love how London just reeks of history, cliché I know, and I also love how you guys speak, especially your newsreaders. They sound so regal, which isn’t surprising, I guess, considering they’re from a country that actually has a royal family. I mean, even the name of your country sounds stately. The United KINGdom. I love that. It just sums England and the English up. It’s so classy, so dignified.’
‘You sure about that?’ asked Paul, his face completely deadpan, at which point Jessica followed his gaze across the room to see Kerry clambering on top of a speaker in a very unladylike manner. Once she’d mounted it, due more to sheer perseverance as opposed to any athletic ability, she proceeded to shout something at the top of her lungs. From where Jessica was sitting it looked like ‘Let’s be having you.’ Then a large bouncer appeared from nowhere and dragged her off. Jessica cringed as the whole club got a glimpse of her knickers.
‘Admittedly,’ she said, ‘that’s probably not the best example of British decorum I’ve ever seen, but then again …’
‘Oh, shut up will you and come here,’ said Paul, and unable to wait a second longer he reached out for her, his hand finding the back of her head, and pulled her gently towards him. He then proceeded to kiss her so unbelievably well, Jessica honestly thought fainting was a distinct possibility. As his tongue explored her mouth she felt a sensation that started in her knickers, worked its way right up through her belly and ended in her brain, little tingles appearing throughout. Kissing him felt utterly right and she would have been quite happy to stay like that for the foreseeable future only just then the sound of Isy whooping on the dance floor carried across the club. It seemed to act like a trigger, for Paul immediately stopped and, as quickly as he’d started, pulled away again.
Jessica was left awash with disappointment and paranoia. Would it be that awful to be seen kissing her? She couldn’t say anything because now some of the girls from the office were advancing, one of them being Natasha.
Clearly ruffled, Paul ran a hand through his hair and visibly tried to compose himself, just as Mark Ronson’s ‘Valerie’ came on and a huge cheer went up in the club.
‘At last, a tune I actually like,’ he said jokily, his voice tellingly hoarse.
At least he was as turned on as she was, Jessica thought ruefully, giving him a perfunctory smile by way of reply, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to do much more. Did Paul not want to be seen kissing her out of embarrassment, or because he cared what Natasha thought, or because he was just being sensible? She wasn’t sure and was too drunk to figure it out, though it briefly crossed her mind that come Monday morning she might be more concerned herself about being the subject of office gossip. As it was, she’d been totally carried away in the moment. A sobering thought.
‘Wotcher!’ yelled Isy, breaking the spell completely but also dispelling some of the tension.
‘Hi,’ said Jessica, smiling at her.
‘OMG, I am so thirsty,’ said the younger girl. ‘I could lick that sweaty bouncer’s forehead I’ve got such bad dry mouth.’
‘No need,’ said Natasha, sauntering over with a jug of tap water and some glasses. Suddenly Jessica was horribly aware of how good the other girl looked in her French Connection playsuit and platform sandals.
‘Not dancing, Pauly?’ enquired Natasha, as Isy grabbed the jug from her and drank directly from it.
‘You know I don’t dance,’ Paul said to his ex.
‘I do,’ she agreed. ‘But I thought you might make an exception for this tune.’
This last comment was loaded with meaning and Jessica felt sick to the stomach. Paul and Natasha had tunes that meant stuff to them. They had history and yet here she was, having known him a mere couple of weeks, getting completely ahead of herself. She was so naive. What was she even thinking?
‘Well, I’m going back for more,’ said Vanessa, having also downed about a pint of water.
‘Me too,’ said Isy, leaving the jug on the low table in front of where Jessica and Paul were sitting before heading back to the dance floor with Natasha and Vanessa.
Once they’d gone Paul immediately turned to her, but Jessica avoided his eye, for now it was Dulcie’s turn to dance over to them. This time Jessica was pleased of the distraction. She had some serious thinking to do when it came to Paul Fletcher and she suddenly wasn’t so sure of the wisdom of leaping feet first into an ill-advised office romance. She certainly didn’t want to be treading on Natasha’s toes.
She smiled at her friend. Dulcie really did stick out like a sore thumb, but in a good way, and even Paul couldn’t help but crack a grin as she bobbed her way over to them.
‘Room for a little one,’ she yelled, squeezing between the two of them. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not staying long, I just wanted a quick word with lover boy here, seeing as I’m off tomorrow.’
Jessica cringed and nudged Dulcie hard in the ribs.
‘Ow!’ screeched Dulcie, slightly ruining the effect.
‘If you’re going to issue another warning, you needn’t bother. I’ll look out for Jess,’ said Paul and Jessica’s heart nearly popped out of her chest and went for a hopeful little dance by itself. Unfortunately, however, she couldn’t ignore for another second how much she needed the toilet.
‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ she told them, feeling torn. She hated leaving them alone, wary of what might be said, but was completely bursting. Damn that litre of alcohol.
‘So,’ said Dulcie, once Jessica had scuttled off, ‘I can tell you’ve decided not to like me, but you should know that actually I’m not all bad.’
‘I never said you were,’ said Paul. ‘I don’t even know you. We’re just … different.’
‘Well, of course we are,’ exclaimed Dulcie. ‘We come from totally different places, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to get on. Besides, if you’re going to be getting it on with my BF, we should make the effort. It’ll be good for you anyway. You’re so closed.’
‘Oh, God,’ moaned Paul. ‘Psychobabble on a Saturday night in a club. My favourite. And who said anything about “getting it on” with Jessica?’
Dulcie answered with a look that spoke volumes about how ridiculous she found this comment. ‘I’ve got eyes, haven’t I? Look, Paul, there’s a huge rock of granite on your shoulder but you must have some redeeming features because Jessica has decided you’re OK. So I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.’
‘You’re willing to give me the benefit of the doubt?’ repeated Paul, dumbfounded but laughing despite himself. ‘Look, the feeling’s mutual, OK? Jessica obviously cares about you so you must be all right because she’s all right, but that doesn’t mean we have to be best mates. I’m sure you are a lovely person, underneath all that … leopard-skin, but we’re never going to have stuff in common like Jess and I do for instance.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ said Dulcie, getting agitated. ‘So in what way are Jess and I so different then?’
‘I’m not saying it’s your fault,’ said Paul earnestly. ‘It’s just, unlike you, Jessica has always had to work hard. She’s had to make something out of nothing, whereas you’ve been handed it all on a plate. She’s on my level. Her dad drives your dad, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Paul,’ sighed Dulcie, shaking her head, ‘have you ever stopped to think that maybe you get on with Jessica because she’s an amazing person and not because of her background? And let me tell you something else for nothing: if someone does come from money it doesn’t necessarily mean their life is one long walk in the park.’
Paul didn’t look convinced.
‘Besides, how can any of us help who our parents are, or how we’re raised?’
Paul regarded her for a while. ‘Look, I didn’t mean to upset you and you’re right, that stuff shouldn’t matter,’ he said, offering Dulcie a hand. ‘But sadly it does, though I’d like to call a truce.’
‘A truce,’ agreed Dulcie, her even white teeth breaking into a glorious grin.
‘I suppose we’re all just a product of our upbringings to some degree,’ said Paul philosophically. ‘Our parents’ fuck-ups.’
‘You can say that again,’ agreed Dulcie, who could tell Jessica was in for a tough time if she pursued this one. Apart from anything else she’d have to come clean about who she was eventually and, when she did, she didn’t think Paul would be letting her off the hook that easily. God, she’d love to see the look on his face though, if and when she did.
Just then Jessica returned from the bathroom.
‘You two OK?’
‘Yup,’ said Dulcie and Paul at the same time.
‘Oh my gosh!’ Jessica suddenly yelled.
‘What?’ said Paul.
‘Look!’ shouted Jessica, feeling so happy she thought she might burst. Paul looked over to where she was pointing. On the dance floor, Luke had clearly decided (or was just drunk enough, one of the two) that tonight was the night to make his feelings known, whether Kerry bloody well liked it or not. Now he was striding purposefully towards her, a look of serious intent on his face and, having noticed, Jessica had immediately guessed what he might be about to do. By contrast, entirely unaware of her impending suitor, Kerry was still hurling herself around the dance floor to Amy Winehouse’s dulcet tones, a bouncer to one side keeping a very close eye on her.
Looking painfully nervous, Luke reached her. His shoulders were so rigid he looked like he had a coat hanger in his jacket and Jessica found herself crossing her fingers. Meanwhile, Paul, who was slowly cottoning on to what was happening, was watching as intently as an England football fan watching a penalty shoot-out at the World Cup. He was just as nervous of the outcome too and when Luke tapped Kerry on the shoulder, boss-eyed with fear, Jessica prayed she wouldn’t reject him.
Meanwhile, a still-bouncing Kerry turned round, not particularly surprised to find Luke standing there until he leaned in to say something in her ear. Then, before their very eyes, Kerry’s expression changed from carefree to stunned, for before she’d had a chance to react to what Luke had said, he took her in his arms, swept her downwards and proceeded to passionately snog her face off.
‘What the hell?’ yelled Paul, who could hardly believe what was unfolding. He started to laugh, more out of shock than anything else. ‘Way to go, Lukey boy!’ he shouted.
‘God, I miss Kevin,’ said Dulcie wistfully before getting up to go and find Isy.
When Luke finally let go, Kerry looked like her first instinct was to slap him hard around the face, but then it seemed to occur to her that actually she’d quite enjoyed kissing him. Sensing he might be in with a chance, Luke grabbed her again and the two of them began kissing like people who’d been told on good authority the world was about to end. A crowd gathered around them and, thinking on his Adidas-clad feet, DJ Delish whipped off what was playing and replaced it with ‘Young Hearts Run Free’. The onlookers cheered with the romance of it all and, when they finally came up for air, for once Kerry was lost for words. Luke, however, having waited a bloody long time for this, punched the air in delight in a way that made Kerry’s normally tough façade crumble away altogether. As people started to approach the ‘happy couple’, shaking their hands and offering their congratulations, she looked completely choked.
Jessica clapped her hands together delightedly. ‘That is so awesome,’ she squealed.
‘Luke and Kerry?’ said Paul, still marvelling at what had just taken place. ‘What were the chances of that happening?’
‘Oh, they were high,’ said Jessica sagely, giving him a flirty sidelong glance.
Paul’s face grew serious again. ‘I was thinking, perhaps after this, if you feel like it, I might invite a few people back to mine and Luke’s place. Why don’t you come?’
Jessica wondered what to do. It was very, very tempting, though it would be less of an interesting prospect if one of the people going back was Natasha. Still, she was pleased he’d asked. Just then, however, the DJ selected ‘Holiday’ by Madonna as his next tune and immediately a series of lightning-fast connections took place in Jessica’s brain. Holiday … why was that ringing such loud alarm bells? And then it hit her. Mike was coming back from his holiday on Sunday afternoon. Sunday, which was, by this point, today. She grabbed Paul’s wrist to look at his watch.
‘Shit!’
‘It’s not that much of a terrible idea, is it?’ said Paul, looking hurt.
‘Mike.’
Paul recoiled. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear.
‘No, no, you don’t understand,’ said Jessica quickly. ‘It’s two in the morning, which means it’s Sunday, which means that Mike gets home today and I haven’t watered his garden for a week. Not even once. He’s going to kill me.’
Paul opened his mouth to protest. In the grand scheme of things Mike’s garden was so far down the list of stuff he was concerned about it was unbelievable. Still, he could sense that the moment had already been lost.
‘Well, maybe we could go for a drink or something soon?’ he said, trying not to sound too eager.
Jessica took his hand, her eyes full of regret, but focused never the less on leaving. ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Though I think you need to figure out how you feel about Natasha. I don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes.’
At this, Paul was quite taken aback. He conceded her point though, despite being more surprised by what she’d said than anything else.
Jessica, meanwhile, was hit by a huge wave of disappointment. The only reason she’d mentioned the other girl was because she was fishing for a denial that Natasha was an issue in the first place.
‘Anyway,’ she said, trying to be brave. ‘I’m just going to go and find Dulcie to say goodbye and then I’m off. If I leave now I can get a bit of sleep and get to Chiswick before Mike gets back.’
‘OK, though let’s still have that drink some time,’ said Paul, but Jessica didn’t answer. Instead she stood up, stopping only to turn and give him a little wave before heading off into the crowd to find Dulcie.
Which was how Mike Connor managed to ruin any chance Paul Fletcher might have had that night of getting Jessica Bender back to his place, something he was starting to realize he really wanted to do.