Page 64 of Cover Story

‘Mmm?’ Bel said, pretending to be only partially paying attention, when in fact she had fully caught Aaron’s snaky innuendo and was playing dumb.

The trouble with reporters was they had a feral intuition.Bel and Connor were no friendlier to each other in the office than they ever had been. Nevertheless, something intangible had shifted, like air pressure in a cabin. Perhaps it was because Bel and Connor pointedly didn’t interact; either way, Aaron’s senses were tingling.

‘Did you do much?’ she asked Aaron.

‘More than you two,’ he said. ‘The didn’t-do-much twins.’

‘What are you suggesting?’ Bel said. ‘We were “didn’t doing” each other?’

‘Woah, why would your mind go THERE?’ Aaron said. It was absolutely where Aaron’s mind was, and where Bel’s was supposed to go. Phase Two of his game:funny how you brought sex into it, isn’t it?

Anthony had seriously reduced Bel’s tolerance for male mind-dickery.

‘Is there a different subtext I’m missing?’

‘I’m just wondering why there’s an echo in here,’ Aaron said, and Bel screwed her face up like:what the hell are you on?

In actual fact, Aaron’s instincts were spot on: Bel and Connor were deterring him with the same blandishments, for the same reason.

For the first time, Bel wondered how Aaron would cope if Bel really was involved with Connor. The fact that that would never happen while there was breath in her body– or Connor’s for that matter– didn’t mean she should discount Aaron’s reaction. If it could manifest in a different time, with a different man, she should nip it in the bud.

Aaron had established an intense bond of loyalty between them, making it clear from the outset that if she needed her back covering with the bosses, he had it. Yet Bel was realisingit came with strings. Anthony’s dark shit had further made her allergic to male attitudes of ownership.

If Bel was seen out with Connor and his brother this weekend– and Aaron had many pairs of eyes, in his direct messages– it would quite possibly not go well for her. She didn’t technically need to socialise with his brother, and Connor’s invite was only made offhandedly, by accident. Yet Bel felt compelled to meet this Shaun Adams. Connor had become a riddle she couldn’t satisfactorily solve– she’d long since lost the straightforward peace of mind that came with simply thinking him a condescending wanker.

His stories of leaving the City, his readiness to protect her from threats she’d created, dammit, hislove of a dead dog(Amber had tried to ask about him, what was he called, Malcolm? Maurice! And Connor to her amazement had teared up. She thought she might’ve seen Amber fall in love a little) had left Bel without a working Sat Nav for him.

Also, a voice whispered, and she tuned it out: you have thought a lot about the idea he looks at you a certain way.

Bel turned her attentions to a newly arrived email– she’d been on a fishing trip to find out who was on the guest list forYorkshire Post’s table at the Northern Media Awards.

Her contact gave her three names, none of them Anthony Barr, but that was no guarantee, of course. Anthony was plenty sly enough to suspect Bel would check and do a last-minute swap-out.

Bel had sternly instructed herself this was a risk she’d have to run in attending. He’d had a disproportionate impact on her life as it was; time to feel the fear and do it anyway.

She listlessly clicked on Instagram to be served a reel ofGlenn Bailey judging the best kebabs in the city. Some social media manager had to edit him dunking fries into polystyrene pots to TheLightning Seeds.

Bailey was ‘tellygenic,’ easy in front of a camera, shaking hands with thrilled customers and making new fans wherever he went. He had what was called the common touch.

‘That research, is it?’ Aaron said, and though he was idly ragging on her, Bel quickly clicked away.

‘Trying to avoid the thankless trudge of digging into an onshore wind farm controversy.’

Connor reappeared from a job, rumpled in his blue shirt in the July heat, and Aaron turned his mithering attentions to him.

‘Not to pry, Adams, but is all OK with your beautiful fiancée?’ Aaron said. ‘I notice your photo’s gone. Or do we need to check if the cleaners are on the rob?’

He gestured with his pen at the space on Connor’s desk where his framed portrait of Jennifer once stood.

‘Oh, yes. We split up,’ Connor said. ‘She wasn’t my fiancée.’

‘God. Sorry to hear that,’ Bel said, pleased with herself for responding naturally to information she already had.

‘Thanks. Not a huge deal. It was a mutual decision and we’re both fine with it,’ Connor said, looking directly at Bel.

‘Aye, sorry,’ Aaron said. He paused. ‘So we’re a trio of singles?’

‘Unless you’ve met anyone?’ Bel said, and Aaron regarded her coolly. He knew something was being kept from him. Bel could tell Aaron was on to them. She should warn Connor of this.

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