Love and Devotion (55 page)

Dominic leaned back in his chair and ran a finger round the rim of his glass. ‘But just to satisfy my curiosity,’ he said, ‘why did it not turn into a boyfriend-girlfriend situation as my brother clearly thought it was?’

‘I warned you, Dominic — ’

‘It’s okay, Miles, I’m quite capable of answering for myself.’ She leaned across the table. ‘What exactly do you want to know, Dominic? Did I sleep with him? Is that it? Did I have a fling with the man? Is that what you want to know? Well, yes, I did. Put a tick in all of the above boxes. There! Satisfied?’

He smiled. ‘How disagreeably suburban you make it sound. Miles? You’ve gone awfully quiet. Don’t you have anything to say on the matter?’

Ripping a bar mat in two, Miles said, ‘I’d say it’s none of our business.’

‘Really? I’d have thought it would have been very much
your
business. After all, the last time I was home you were practically falling over yourself for a bit of action in the sack with our frigid little Harriet.’

Seeing the look of horror on Miles’s face, Harriet did the only thing she could have done. She picked up her wine glass and threw its contents in Dominic’s face. ‘You vicious bastard! Why couldn’t it have been you who died and not Felicity?’

She was outside, slinging her bag over her shoulder and doing up her coat, when Miles came after her.

‘I’m sorry, Harriet. I don’t know what’s got into him. He seems to be getting worse. Let me walk you to your car.’

‘Please,’ she said, ‘I think I’d rather be alone.’

 

 

 

 

The Office Christmas Party had never been one of Harriet’s favourite pastimes. In years gone by she had devised all manner of excuses why she couldn’t attend - a doctor’s appointment, a crucial telephone call she had to make, a new washing machine being delivered - but Howard had warned her yesterday that he’d make her life a living hell if she so much as thought of not joining in. ‘You’ll wear a paper hat and laugh at my jokes whether you want to or not,’ he’d told her.

‘And if I don’t?’

‘I’ll start a rumour that we’re having an affair.’

‘I could have you for harassment.’

‘With your fierce reputation no one would believe you, Hat. I’d tell them that the boot was on the other foot; that you forced yourself upon me and made unnatural demands of a happily married man. I’ll say I asked you to be gentle with me, but that you had me on the desk, up against the wall, then tied to my chair. It would make a sensational court case, don’t you think? I can see the headlines: “Insatiable nymphomaniac employee harasses boss for New Year pay rise.”’

‘And just how long have you been living in La-La Land, Howard?’

‘Cheeky bint! Now get your sassy arse into gear and dig out your best party frock for tomorrow. I ought to warn you, anyone who doesn’t laugh at my jokes will be dismissed on the spot. Message received?’

‘Loud and clear, oh great leader.’

When it came to organising a Christmas lunch, Harriet had to hand it to Howard; he spared no expense. He’d not only organised a bus to ferry everyone into Manchester, but was treating them to a meal at his favourite Chinese restaurant, the Yang Sing. Despite her natural inclination to opt for pushing needles through her eyeballs rather than sit through such an ordeal, Harriet had to admit that she was very nearly enjoying herself. With Dangerous Dave on her left and Tina, a lively fifty-year-old from accounts getting more raucous by the minute on her right, Harriet had somehow found herself entering into the spirit of the occasion. She was one of the few sober people, having had no more than a glass of wine because she would be driving home once the bus dropped them off back at the office, unlike the others who at Howard’s expense were all sharing taxis. And because she was sober, she was probably the only person who would remember Howard’s appalling jokes in the morning. But God love ‘em, she thought with surprising affection, he knows how to instil a sense of loyalty in his employees. Devotion was perhaps putting it too strongly, but looking round the tables of red-faced men and women, their party hats askew, their eyes glazed and bloodshot and their voices raised, she knew they were as tight-knit a bunch of workers as she’d come across, who would more than go the extra mile for Howard. As he doubtless knew. Harriet had come to realise that nothing happened by chance at ACT. Howard was a formidable player; he made things happen through the sheer force of his personality, and she counted herself lucky to work for him. She watched him working his way round the room, bestowing his outrageous brand of bonhomie on the tables of work colleagues. There was a lot of matey back-slapping going on, as well as a good deal of amorous charm being dispensed by the bucketload.

‘He’s one in a million, isn’t he?’ Tina said, following Harriet’s gaze and leaning drunkenly against her shoulder. ‘Did you know he paid for me to go private when I was told there was a ten-month waiting list to have my varicose veins done? He said to me, “Tina, the sooner you get them done, the sooner you can chase me round the office.”’ She raised her glass to him. ‘He’s the best boss I’ve ever worked for.’

Later, she felt a hand clamping down on her shoulder. ‘There you are, Hat! Having fun?’

‘This might surprise you, but yes I am.’

Howard laughed. ‘Excellent. Now come and sit with me.’ He grabbed her by the arm and pushed her towards his table. Most of the chairs were empty, people having got up to wander about and chat. Howard pulled out the one next to his. ‘Drink?’ he offered.

‘No thanks, I’m driving home later.’

‘You mean you’re sober and still enjoying yourself? You’ll be telling me next that the world is round. So tell me how the kiddies are. Looking forward to Christmas, I’ll bet. When mine were little they would write wish lists to Santa that were as long as my arm.’

‘They’re pretty much on the case,’ Harriet said lightly. This was a huge understatement. On an hourly basis Carrie was changing her mind about what she wanted. Her requests included a pair of purple rollerskates that lit up with flashing lights, a bike with at least ten gears, a CD player, some kind of disco-babe game (like Emily has), bright-pink nail varnish (again like Emily has), a sticker collection, a bumper pack of felt-tip pens, and a hamster (like Rebecca’s). In contrast, Joel’s list was heartbreakingly thin on the ground; he’d asked for a new pair of slippers.

‘But I guess their excitement must be tempered by knowing this will be their first Christmas without their parents,’ Howard said. ‘The same must be true for you; you’ll miss your sister, won’t you?’

Touched by his solicitude, she said, ‘We’ll cope.’

‘Of course you will. But it won’t be easy. How’s the house move going?’

‘All set for the fourth of January. I’ve booked a day off, by the way.’

‘Only the one? Take two, at least.’

‘There’s no need.’

He shook his head. ‘You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?’ He filled his wine glass and took a mouthful. ‘So how’s your love life? Any men on the scene?’

She laughed out loud. ‘Do I have to answer that?’

‘Yep! It’s a new office rule. Come on, tell Uncle Howard about all the blokes who must be interested in you. I know for a fact that Dangerous Dave would give up his real-ale fetish for a night of bliss with the delectable Miss Swift.’

‘What rubbish!’

‘It’s true. I’ve seen the way he hovers round your office, his ears pricked up and his tongue hanging out like a randy dog. How about that bloke in Dublin? Is he still keen?’

Alarmed, she said, ‘Dominic’s an old friend. Nothing more. As I recall telling you at the time.’

‘No other blokes then? I find that hard to believe. A great-looking girl like you.’

‘For all you know I could be gay.’

‘And I’m a Dutchman’s uncle! Believe me, I’d know if you were, Hat. Besides, my sources tell me that you were heard talking to a guy called Will on the phone. Who’s he? Another
friend?’

Was there nothing this man didn’t know? ‘Have you been tapping the phones?’

‘No, just listening to office gossip. It’s the best reason to employ women: through them I can keep up to date with everything that’s going on. Yeah, I know, it’s shocking, isn’t it?’

‘You must be the most non-PC boss in business.’

‘And I get away with it because I’m a world-class sweetheart. Come on, talk to Uncle Howard. Tell me all. You know you want to. I’ve noticed a few changes in you recently; one minute you’re fizzing away like a nun who’s just been snogged, and next you’re looking like the mother superior who wasn’t so lucky.’

Harriet shook her head in bewilderment. How did he do it? But the extraordinary thing was, she was actually tempted to open up to Howard. It made her wonder if she really was sober. Was it possible to be a passive drinker, inhaling everyone else’s alcohol fumes? But to talk to Howard about Will — about how much she missed him, how she wished she could spend an evening with him just to make sure he was all right, how she felt so screwed up by dumping him when she did - was she mad? Apparently yes, because before she could stop herself the words were leaping from her mouth and she was unburdening herself.

When she’d finished, he said, ‘The poor devil. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to either of my children. They’re both in their early twenties and living away from home, but I still worry like hell about them. So why didn’t it work out between you two?’ he asked. ‘Was it the age gap?’

‘Yes,’ Harriet lied. No way was she going to tell Howard the whole truth - that a moment of madness had caused her to become hooked on the thrill of being with Will.

‘Do you want to know what my advice is?’ Howard asked.

This she had to hear. ‘Go on,’ she said warily.

‘It sounds to me like you still fancy the bloke, with or without the extra years he’s carrying, but I’d advise you to put him out of your mind. After what’s just happened to him, he’s seriously damaged goods. Best keep away from him altogether. Start offering your shoulder for him to cry on, as you girls love to do, and you’ll end up in big trouble.’

‘You really think so?’ Harriet was surprised at Howard’s take on the situation. She had expected him to say something crass like, ‘Get stuck in; you know you want him!’

‘Trust me, he’s in no fit state to get involved with anyone right now. Why? Were you thinking of getting back with him to ease your conscience, given the timing of your dumping of him?’

‘No!’

‘Good, because the man will be vulnerable and if you come along and toy with his affections again, he’ll very likely tip over the edge. Leave well alone is Uncle Howard’s top tip for the day.’

Harriet drove home with Howard’s words echoing in her ears. The thought of rekindling her relationship with Will hadn’t crossed her mind, but it had certainly gone through her mind to provide him with a shoulder on which to lean, if not to cry on. If Howard was right and Will was vulnerable, her being there for him could well make matters worse.

She had to admit to being impressed with Howard’s advice; it struck her as being both shrewd and prudent. All the same, she felt disappointed. She missed Will and hated the thought of him suffering. Naively, she had imagined that if they couldn’t be lovers, they could at least be friends. But it looked as if it was not to be.

As for her so-called friend, Dominic, after his foul behaviour the other night he could go to hell as far as she was concerned. His interest in Will had been nothing more than a malicious desire to make Harriet look stupid, to rub her nose in whatever sick joke he was playing with her. And why had he tried to make out that Miles had been interested in her, when it was Felicity who had been the love of his life? Okay, Dominic didn’t know it for sure — Harriet hadn’t told him about the email that had given Miles away — but what kind of twisted mind continually made him want to provoke and embarrass people? Had he got a kick out of pushing her until she flipped, just to see if he could make her lose control? It was possible. Frankly, she wouldn’t put anything past him. She had never thrown a drink in anyone’s face before, but she’d do it again without a second’s thought or regret if Dominic played any more games like that with her and Miles. Miles was right to say that he thought his brother was getting worse. He was. It had struck Harriet in bed that night that maybe Dominic, given that he suspected Miles had had an affair with his perfect Felicity, was jealous, just as she’d suggested to him in Dublin. Perhaps he hated himself for being gay, knowing he couldn’t have Felicity in the way that Miles could, and had lashed out at the easiest targets to hand.

The following morning Miles had phoned her on her mobile and apologised again for Dominic’s behaviour. ‘That comment he made about you and me, it ... it was totally out of order. I hope you didn’t — ’

This constant apologising from Miles was getting on her nerves and Harriet had cut him short by saying, ‘Dominic isn’t your responsibility, so don’t keep saying sorry on his behalf.’