Having a Ball (27 page)

"I can give you a lift, if you like," he said.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be out of your way."

"We could stop off for lunch somewhere en route. I know some nice
places between here and London."

Stevie considered. It certainly sounded more attractive than sitting in a
bus full of tourists.

The doorbell rang.

Tom laid a hand on her knee. "Evelyn will get it." His touch burned, even
though she should be used to it by now. He leaned closer.

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs and drew back, guiltily.

Tom removed his hand from high on her thigh, just as Vienna walked
through the door.

She looked from Tom to Stevie and back again. "Hello. Not interrupting
anything, am I?"

"Just breakfast," said Tom. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be
with a client?"

"Client postponed on me." Vienna threw her bag onto an empty chair and
sat in another. "So I thought, rather than schlep back to London, I'd pop by here
remind you that the corporate event next week is black tie."

Tom frowned. "Corporate event?"

"Oh Tom! Don't tell me you've forgotten. You said you'd be my partner at
the Hardakers annual dinner."

"Sorry. So I did. I completely forgot." Tom didn't look at either of them. He
finished off his bacon and egg. "Black tie. Okay."

"Good job I reminded you." Vienna eyed Stevie. "How did the ball go?
Make lots of money?"

"Not too bad, thanks." Stevie could tell Vienna suspected something.
"How's Pete?"

"He's a lovely man. So very talented." She sighed. "And so very very busy.
He's travelling all over the place, promoting his new album."

Stevie stood and took her plate to clear it. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry
any more. "I've got a few things to sort out before I leave," she said and glanced at
Tom, who was wiping his plate with his toast. "I'll see you in a bit."

He smiled vaguely, still not making eye contact.

As Stevie left, she heard Vienna say in a theatrical whisper, "I hope you
know what you're doing."

Instead of heading straight out of the back door as she'd intended, Stevie
ducked into the little pantry beside the kitchen. From there she would be hidden
from Tom, but would be able to hear what was being said.

"What are you talking about?" Tom said.

"That girl. You're sleeping with her."

Tom must have made some sort of gesture of denial, because Vienna
carried on, "Oh come on, Tom, I've known you long enough and well enough to spot
the signs. I just hope you understand what you're doing."

Stevie was pressing against the side of the freezer, but that had nothing to
do with the sudden chill that she felt.

"You've always been straight with your women," said Vienna, no longer
whispering. "Sex is all there is. No commitments."

"And?" Tom sounded annoyed.

"And, I don't think you've made that clear to her. She's young and naive. It
will break her heart when she finds out she's just another notch on the bedpost.
Poor little thing. She's clearly in love with you."

Stevie nearly gasped. Was she in love with him? She couldn't be. Could
she? She covered her mouth with her hands, in case any sound escaped.

"For you information," said Tom. "Stevie is more mature than you give
her credit for. She knows I can't commit to a long-term relationship at the moment.
I've told her and she understands. Besides which, it's none of your damned
business anyway."

"Have you told her about the job in Doha then?"

There was a moment of silence. It told Stevie all she needed to know.

Tom muttered something Stevie couldn't catch.

"Oh come on, we both know you're a shoo-in for that job. When were you
planning to tell her? An hour before you left for the airport?"

Stevie didn't want to hear any more. She ran out of the back door, letting
it slam behind her.

Back in her room she threw clothes into her suitcase, not really seeing or
caring what was going in. She'd known that Tom wasn't going to make a
commitment to her. He'd been completely up front about that. But she hadn't
known the reason. He was leaving the country. He had a new job somewhere exotic
and he hadn't bothered to tell her about it.

What made things worse was that Vienna knew all about it. Of course he
couldn't commit to a relationship. There wasn't the chance of one. Stevie had just
been a small interlude in his arrangement with Vienna. A little side act to the main
attraction. He'd used her.

She hurled her silk dress in to the bag and stuffed the high heels savagely
on top. She'd never be able to wear that dress again without crying, so who cared if
it snagged.

It's not as though people hadn't warned her. She had just carried on
building dreams out of thin air, like an idiot.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A knock on the door made her pause.

Tom.

She wiped her face with her hands, hoping to take away the tear tracks.
She had to a mature about this. Tom hadn't lied to her. He'd always told her he
couldn't offer her anything serious. It was her fault that she'd gone and fallen in
love with him.

"Stevie, can I come in?"

She had to pull herself together. Act like she could deal with this. Taking a
deep breath, she opened the door. "Tom."

He stood, his hands in his pockets, shifty-eyed like a guilty child. "Stevie.
I... I don't know what to say."

Neither did she. Her eyes prickled. She had to clench her teeth to stop the
tears. She turned away and returned to stuffing her bag. He stepped into the room.
His presence was like electricity on her skin, only now it was tinged with pain
rather than excitement.

"I'm sorry."

"Is it true?" She pulled the bag closed and tried to do up the clasp. "You're
leaving?"

"Yes."

The clasp was too blurred for her to close it properly. She clawed at
it.

"Here. Let me." Tom leaned across and secured it. The click sounded
unnaturally loud.

"Stevie." He reached for her hand.

She moved out of the way. Just being near him was hard enough. If he
touched her now, she wouldn't be able to bear it. A tear escaped down her cheek.
She brushed it away. "You don't have to explain Tom. You were perfectly honest
with me at the start. You don't do commitment. I understand that."

Inside her chest, her heart tore. "It's been fun. Really. But I guess all good
things have to come to an end sometime." She picked up the suitcase. "Good luck
with your job in Doha."

She managed to look at him and the expression on his face made her feel
even worse. Disappointed that he didn't say anything, she turned to leave. As she
reached the door, he said, "Stevie?"

"Yes?" She didn't turn around.

"I want you to know that I never thought of you as a notch on the
bedpost. You were...you are...special."

Special? She half turned. He was sitting on the bed, looking at his feet. A
small flare of hope that she hadn't even noticed, guttered and died. "But not special
enough for you to stay?"

He avoided her eyes and shook his head.

Stevie nodded. So that was how it was. At least she knew now. Without
another word, she hitched the bag onto her shoulder and left. She kept up a steady
pace until she reached the end of the road, leaving Tom, leaving the house, far
behind her. Tom didn't follow her. Part of her was relieved.

The rest of her was gutted.

* * * *

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

Stevie's gone.
I don't
know what to do with myself. I can't concentrate on
anything.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

Oh dear. What
happened?

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

Vienna happened. She came in
to waste some time and found me and Stevie having breakfast together.
She put two and two together and had a go at me for leading the 'poor
naÏve girl' along. She was pretty brutal about my trysts in the
past and mentioned the job in Doha. I thought Stevie had left the room,
but she hadn't. She'd stopped in the larder and heard every word!
I
could kill Vienna. I think she knew that Stevie could
hear.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

Didn't you try to talk Stevie
out of it?

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

And say what? Everything she
said is true. It was going to end soon anyway. I don't have time for a
girlfriend and I won't be around for much longer anyway. At most we
would have had a few more weeks together, but that would be about
it.
If Stevie is that hurt now, imagine how much worse it would be
after several weeks of being together?
No, it was kinder to let her
go. For her and for me.
I just regret that I kissed her in the first
place. If I'd been stronger, we would have parted as mere
acquaintances and wouldn't have to deal with all this
crap.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

Alternatively, You could not
take the job and stay where you are. Or hope to get that other job
instead.

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

I haven't heard anything from
Lambert Kassel, so I'm assuming no luck with that job. I can't refuse the
job in Doha. That would be stupid. I may as well quit and go sell the Big
Issue. I worked hard to get that job and I deserve it.

##

From: Olivia Gornall

To: Tom Blackwood

If that's the way you see it,
then I suppose you did the right thing.
Personally, I think you're an
idiot.

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Olivia Gornall

Thanks Og. I always know I
can count on you for comfort and support. Not.

* * * *

Text From: Stevie's phone
To: Marsh's
phone
Coming home today. Will call you this eve or
tmrw.

* * * *

From: Vienna Jansen-Verlag

To: Tom Blackwood

I don't know why you're so
sore with me. I didn't tell you anything you didn't already know.
I
must say it's churlish of you to drop me in it like this re the event.
Where am I going to find another date at such short
notice?
Vienna

##

From: Tom Blackwood

To: Vienna Jansen-Verlag

You should have thought
of that before you stuck your nose in my business. I've never interfered
in yours, have I? The least I could expect is the same courtesy from
you.

The flat was too quiet for Stevie to relax in, so she put some music on and
gave the place a good clean. It was in need of it anyway. She phoned the few of her
friends who were still around, read the travel blogs of those who weren't and
caught up with the gossip. She sent Louise an email outlining how the ball had gone,
including how much money they'd raised.

Having caught up with all her social emails, she grabbed a Galaxy bar,
poured herself a glass of wine and settled down to watch TV. But thoughts of Tom
kept creeping in.

She mentally tracked the change in her feelings towards him. When had a
mere crush tipped over into something that could make her feel so raw? They'd
only known each other for a few weeks, yet she felt like she'd known him forever.
How had she fallen so completely and blindly in love with him?

Perhaps that's what Marshall was trying to warn her about. Maybe that
was just the effect Tom had on women.

Eventually, she fell asleep on the sofa and, for the first time in over a
week, had her recurring nightmare. She woke up crying and cold with shock. For a
moment, she was too disorientated to figure out where she was. Once the reality hit
home, she started crying afresh. It was as though being with Tom had kept her fears
at bay for a while, but now they were back, only worse. She now had an extra
person she'd lost. Out of habit, she reached for her phone and got half way through
Marsh's number when she stopped herself.

She was supposed to be an adult. She couldn't run to her big brother
whenever she had a bad dream. He might be able to come round and see her now,
but what would happen once the baby was born? He'd need to be with his new
family, not to waste time babying his grown up sister.

She huddled on the sofa in her living room, where every single light was
on, and hugged her knees. Years ago a therapist had told her to write her feelings
down. She found a piece of paper and a pen and started to write.

Eventually she felt a little better. Rather than read what she'd written and
relive it all, she screwed up the paper and threw it in the bin. Going over to her
notice board, she took Indiana Jones down and retrieved the photo of her family.
When she finally went to bed, she fell asleep with it clutched against her lacerated
heart.

* * * *

The dawn chorus woke her at 5:00 a.m. She made herself breakfast, went
for a run and managed to wait until a more reasonable six-thirty before phoning
Marsh. He would be up. He always was.

"It's me," she said, when he answered the phone.

"Stevie. How are you?" He sounded relieved to talk to her. She realised he
must have been worrying about how she was, especially given his fears about how
Tom might treat her.