Three Way (38 page)

‘Mate, you know I love you whatever you do. All I ask is you keep your dick in your pants when you’re round me. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.’ I chuckle. ‘How you doing anyway?’

‘Yeah okay. James Kennedy just came over.’

‘Who’s James Kennedy?’

‘This douchebag who works in Lauren’s office. You remember? The rich guy who has the apartment near Canary Wharf?’

‘Uh, nope.’

‘Well anyway, he came over and basically said Lauren’s parents died within a couple of weeks of each other and that night at the club was the five-year anniversary.’

‘What, when she kissed Time Traveller bloke?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Right. So he thinks that’s like, her reason?’

‘Yeah,’ I say. There’s a slight pause as Parker thinks.

‘I guess losing both parents is pretty heavy,’ he says.

‘Yeah. Her mum had cancer and when she died, I think her dad couldn’t take it and he killed himself.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah. So, maybe it’s sort of understandable.’

‘What do you really think, though?’ Parker asks.

‘I don’t know, mate. I just, can’t get it straight in my mind.’

‘Maybe you should just go talk to her? See what she has to say? If she doesn’t say the right things, then…you’re no worse off than you are now.’

‘I guess.’

‘Fuck it, got nothing to lose,’ he says. I hear someone talking to Parker in the background.

‘Nicola asks if you want her to bake you something.’

‘Bake me something?’

‘Yeah, I dunno mate, she thinks her chocolate brownies might make you feel better.’

‘Not the same chocolate brownies she left on my floor that time-’ I say. Parker bursts out laughing.

‘No, not those ones,’ he replies. I hear Nicola asking what I said. ‘Nothing darling. He says thanks for the offer but he doesn’t need chocolate brownies right now.’

‘Thank you though,’ I say loudly, as if Nicola could ever hear me.

‘He says thank you,’ Parker says to Nicola. ‘So?’

‘Maybe you’re right.’

‘Christ, haven’t you learned this yet? I’m always right,’ says Parker.

Okay, now I just need to work this out. Best way forward. Do I go:

a) To her house?

or

b) To her work?

Her house would be more private, I guess. We could talk without fear of being overheard and not have some big soap opera scene in front of the entire bank. What do you think? Bank? Really, you think bank? It’s just so… fearless for me to do something like that. But then, I guess the onus is on her. I need to look good as well. Remind her of how great I am and what she’s missing. Which, is frankly not a lot but still…might as well make the most of what I’ve got. I need to get a good night’s sleep and-

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

Well, now who the fuck is that? I check my watch, it’s nine-thirty. Surely James Kennedy didn’t leave something behind, he was only here for five minutes. My flat is like Oxford Circus all of a sudden. I walk to the door and open it. I frown, at first unsure who it is. Then my mouth opens slightly.

‘Svetla?’ I say, surprise evident in my voice.

‘Hi. I know it’s wrong to be here and I shouldn’t have come but I wanted to talk to someone and I don’t know why, but you were the only person.’

‘Okay. Come in,’ I say, automatically. Don’t say anything, I know what you’re thinking but I swear nothing is going to happen. I am so over her, she is so yesterday’s news. I can tell you don’t believe me. Well, watch this scene play out. I close the door behind her, glancing down to her bum as she walks. She’s wearing that Thundercat hoodie top and black leggings. Not exactly dressed to impress but hey, whatever. We walk into the living room. She sits down on her side of the sofa which had become mine but I guess now she’s here-

‘Actually, have a seat here,’ I say. She looks at where I point, then up to me. She moves without complaint. Ha, one nil me! Yeah. I sit down in my (formerly her) space. ‘So…’

‘I’m sorry to turn up like this. The thing is, it’s not going so well with Rupert and I just needed someone to talk to.’

‘And, you thought of me?’ I say, slowly.

‘I know. It’s crazy, right? But we could always talk. Whatever else, you were always a good listener.’ She wants me to listen to the trouble she’s having with the guy she shagged behind my back and left me for? This is…so fucked up. And yet I find myself saying,

‘Sure, of course. What’s happened?’

‘He’s not getting a divorce. Says he doesn’t want one. And that’s sort of it. I mean, how can I stay with someone who is still married to someone else?’ You can’t Svetla, unless you’re Hugh Hefner.

‘Hmm,’ I say, careful not to betray anything.

‘I just…I know we didn’t really work out but maybe, after this much time…we could be friends? I just…I guess I sort of miss you.’ Oh my God. She’s making a play for me. The words say one thing but let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen that the body language is clear. She stares at me, those bright blue eyes searching for a reaction. ‘Do you…miss me?’

‘I don’t know what to say to that, Svetla. You destroyed me-’

‘You destroyed me, Ollie,’ she says straight back at me. ‘You remember how we got to splitting up? You remember the things you said?’

‘I remember you were fucking someone else,’ I say, calmly. She sighs and nods without responding. I breathe out. ‘Look, we both said and did some shitty things.’

‘Yes, we did. And for my side, I’m sorry. I was…hurt and vulnerable and weak. Sort of like now, actually,’ she says. I note that she’s moved imperceptibly closer.

‘Svetla…I’m sorry about Rupert. Really. But…you shouldn’t be here. You just shouldn’t. We had our shot. I fucked it up. Or you did, or whatever. If I’m being honest, it was me that screwed it up in the first place by the way I behaved. And I’ve accepted that. My fault. My selfishness. But whatever the reason you’re here, I think you should go. Or we’ll do something stupid that neither of us really wants and screw up anything else that might be going on. I love you. I really do. I think I always will. You played such a massive part in my life and I will always be grateful for that. But the success of a relationship isn’t always judged by how long it lasts. Maybe we lasted long enough and now, it’s time for something else. If Rupert isn’t the guy for you, then whoever you end up meeting next may well be. You’re a smart, beautiful girl and it really was an honour to be your boyfriend, even if I didn’t know it at the time. But for now, I think it’s time to say goodbye and move on. Don’t you?’

Tears roll down her face. She sniffs and nods, trying to reclaim her composure. She stands quickly. Then, perhaps unexpectedly, she hugs me. I feel the wetness of her tears on my cheek. I rub her back slowly, smelling her skin. That familiar smell I got so used to. But this time, it’s different. This time is no longer Svetla time. And somewhere in me, I feel the freedom of knowing I’ve let her go. We release each another.

‘You’re a special guy, Ollie Hayward. Whoever you end up with, she’ll be a very lucky girl,’ Svetla says. I smile and follow her to the door.

‘Take care of yourself,’ I say. She nods.

‘Yeah. And you,’ she replies. And then, she’s gone. I stand in the doorway and breathe out. The girl I’ve spent so long thinking about, is gone. And this time, really gone. But there’s something about this new fact that fills me with hope. Moving on. I really have moved on.

When I walk into work, Julie has brought in cakes and treats. There’s also a bottle of Champagne sitting on the newsdesk.

‘What’s all this?’ I ask.

‘Julie’s getting married and I’m getting divorced,’ says Paul.

‘Oh…uh, congratulations,’ I say to Paul. He smiles.

‘Fuckin’ A. Never thought I’d see the day. She’s finally out of my life, psycho bitch. Can’t tell you how happy I am,’ he says.

‘Well…that’s great.’ I look over to Julie who beams at me.

‘Hey Julie, fantastic news,’ I say, walking over and giving her a hug.

‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘Too early for Champagne now, but if you’re around later?’

‘Sounds great. So he finally asked?’

‘Nope. I asked him. Got sick of dropping hints, so I thought, why does it always have to be the man doing these things? Then I thought, it doesn’t.’

‘Wow. Was he surprised?’

‘Yeah. Fell off his chair, literally. We went to our favourite restaurant, nothing fancy but very us. I got out the ring and went down on one knee and said I’d been waiting for him to get his act together and it was time to take the bull by the horns.’

‘Romantic,’ I say.’

‘Yeah. He was surprised but he got all emotional. Started crying.’ What a pussy.

‘So sweet,’ I say.

‘Yeah, except I told him to stop being such a cry baby and give me an answer. My knee was getting dirty and starting to ache,’ she says. I chuckle.

‘Right. And he said yes?’

‘He said yes.’

‘Nice one. See, I told you you weren’t destined to be a spinster.’

‘You were instrumental in all this, Ollie.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course not.’ Amen to that. The newsroom soon settles back into work mode and I walk around to my desk and log in. Nice that my colleagues are happy. I, on the other hand, have to work out exactly what to do about Lauren. I want my happy ending as well, whatever that might be.

‘Ollie, do you have a minute?’ Jonathan Crawley, scary Head of Home News is standing over me. Oh shit. What did I do now?

‘Uh, sure,’ I reply. I stand and follow him into his office.

‘Have a seat,’ he says. I’m nervous now, trying to think of all the fuck ups I’ve made recently. I can’t remember anything that significant. Yes the sat vehicle broke during that Queen’s speech to the troops on Thursday, but that wasn’t my fault. Or maybe it was-

‘I want to ask you something,’ Jonathan says.

‘Okay,’ I reply, holding my breath.

‘There’s going to be some changes in the newsroom coming up. One of those changes is Paul is moving over to the Foreign Desk for a bit and I wondered how you’d feel about moving up to be a News Editor?’ What?

‘Really?’ I say, my heart in my mouth.

‘You’re an excellent producer, Ollie. But I think it’s time to step up to the next stage. So, if you’re happy...?’

‘Yeah, oh my God.’

‘It’s just a temporary thing to start with, but you will get a bump in pay and if it works out there might be something more permanent for you.’

‘Yeah, great. Thank you so much.’

‘Okay. I’ll get Kirsty to draw up a contract,’ he says, standing and offering his hand. ‘Congratulations. Don’t let me down.’

‘I won’t. Thank you, really,’ I reply. He nods and waves me away. I walk out of the office, semi-stunned. A news editor. I’m going to be a news editor. I wander slowly back to the newsdesk. Paul stands and walks over to me.

‘So? You going to take it?’ he asks. I look up. He’s smiling a big smile at me. I nod and smile back.

‘Yeah,’ I say, barely grasping my good fortune.

‘Good for you. I hoped you would. When Jonathan asked me who would be best to take over here, there was only one person that came to mind,’ he says.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, David King but he wants to be a reporter so…’

‘Oh.’

‘You muppet, of course it was you. Jesus. You’re the best producer we’ve got.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you start doing it. It’s a lot of responsibility and long hours but it’s great fun.’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ I say. We shake hands.

‘Paul, line one is Adrian Banks,’ Julie says. Paul smiles, then turns and sits back down at his desk. He picks up the phone.

‘Adrian, this better be good news because other broadcasters are running our shots without a TBN strap,’ Paul says.

I stare at my screen and try to process what’s just happened. I’m going to do my dream job. I’m going to be a home news editor. I can’t believe it. This is just too surreal. Maybe life won’t be so bad after all. Right, plan of action. As soon as I’m done here, I’m going to head over to Lauren’s house (not bank – there’s no way I can have that sort of scene in the middle of her office, sorry to those of you who were rooting for that.) Then I’m going to sort this out once and for all.