Page 69 of Cover Story

‘Right as she was arriving. I actually felt sorry for her more than anything.’

‘Mmm-hmm,’ Shaun said, ‘that’s very you.’

‘The real shocker was she wanted us to go to counselling and carry on. It was very difficult to see our path back to happiness. I think she was determined to make me the quitter.’

‘Jennifer’s an acquisitive person. You’re a prize, and she can’t bear to willingly surrender a prize. It’s not that you have value to her, it’s that you have value to others.’

‘Shaun,’ Connor said, rubbing his eyes and laughing, ‘I know your whole thing is you don’t sugar coat anything ever, but could I ask for the merest icing dusting?’

‘Are you conflicted about it ending?’ Shaun said, dangling a padron pepper by its stalk into his mouth. He’d covered half the table in speculative side dish orders. ‘Also, you say you’re not harrowed but you’re thin. Eat something.’

‘Ripped, I’mripped.’

‘If you say so.’

‘No, I’m not conflicted, but … humans aren’t machines. “The woman you spent five years with was a thunderous nause” is quite hard to hear.’ Connor tried a cauliflower fritter and spoke after chewing: ‘I still feel defensive of her and wished you’d liked her more. I knew you were never bowled over by Jen, but you got along?’

‘We did get along. I just thought she was wrong for you. We all did.’

‘Oh, great!’ Connor said. He was play-acting more botheredthan he was. Now the files had been declassified, he was self-conscious, yes, but also curious. He’d never thought his family were mad keen on Jennifer, merely respectful of his choice, and that had been enough.

‘I appreciate it hurts,’ Shaun said. ‘Equally, do you want me to say you just lost the best thing to ever happen to you, drive to North East London right now with a boom box and stand under her window?’

‘No, obviously,’ Connor said. ‘I look back over our five years and try to see why she and I ever thought we were a good fit. By thirty-four I should’ve figured out my kind of person.’

‘You were aimless back then, and she had purpose. It was a situational attraction, it had a time and a place. A lot of people turn those errors into marriages and kids so you’re lucky really.’

Connor explained they’d have company for dinner the following evening. Checking they were speaking in total privacy, he briefly explained the undercover op, his intrusion into it, who he was meant to be.

‘That sounds a heck of a gig.’ Shaun lowered his voice. ‘No offence, but you’re an intern? I thought you’d be doing golden wedding anniversaries and cats up trees?’

‘I would be if you’d not sent me to check out a hotel in Didsbury.’

‘You’re here twelve weeks in this city and you’re trying to get its Mayor fired? You fucking journalists, I swear to God.’

Connor grinned and Shaun shook his head.

‘This “Bel Macauley” must be quite formidable,’ Shaun said.

‘Oh, you have NO idea,’ Connor said, with a grimace.

He suddenly felt exposed, even rattled, having sailed through discussing JenGate. He’d not prepared a party line on Bel.Ifherevealed any confusion or ambivalence, Shaun would leap straight into dissecting it. Connor wasn’t ready.

‘Why are we spending Saturday night with her then?’

‘Because I bloody have to, don’t I,’ Connor said, aiming for rueful jollity. Yet as he said it, he felt both ungentlemanly and something of a fraud.

39

What outfit would Connor really hate?Bel thought, with a smile, surveying her wardrobe.I seek a ‘How Dare You Show Me Up Like This’impact. She no longer wanted to go tonight and needed her clothes to convey it.

She’d abruptly gone off the prospect after Connor messaged: ‘I know I dropped my brother visit on you a bit, no worries if you’ve got better things to do! Very much extra to requirements rather than essential.’

Unthinkingly, with innocent enthusiasm and the warmth of a return exclamation mark, Bel insta-replied: ‘No, I’d like to meet him!’

Then the ripple of typing dots, three times, starting and stopping. Bel frowned. It wasn’t hard to give her a time and a location. Then it dawned– she was supposed to take the hint and politely back out. Having not got the outcome he’d angled for, Connor was now tying himself in diplomatic knots trying to both act pleased and hint again, always a tricky, highly skilled manoeuvre.

Sure enough, his fourth– fourth!– bout of typing resulted in:

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