Page 89 of Cover Story

‘Ta dah! It needs a name.’

‘Like draping Christmas lights in a squat,’ Aaron said. ‘Like a Bagpuss beanbag in a crack den. If it makes you happy, though. Got some more good news for you an’ all, Bellatrix,’ Aaron said. ‘The photographer from Friday’s do has emailed the general address for the office saying he met a woman who didn’t want to be in the photos and he doesn’t know her name. Gotta be you?’

‘Oh yes, that was me,’ Bel said, brushing earth from her sleeve as she sat down. ‘I asked him to respect my zero imagery online policy.’

‘Well well, in that case …’ Bel realised too late that Aaron had laid a little mousetrap and she had nibbled the cheese, ‘He wants to ask you on a date.’

‘Piss off, seriously? What?’ Bel said. She blushed a hard red as if they were in school, which was not like her.

‘I quote: “She was lovely and I’d like to see if she fancies a drink, if that’s not too forward.” Bet I could get the horny little toad sacked from his picture agency for it.’

Bel had no comeback, also unlike her. Somehow, the involuntary troubled look that passed between herself and Connor complicated things. Why did she care what he thought? She did, for some reason. She also realised she’d blushed because Connor was here.

‘How does that make you feel, Connor?’ Aaron added.

‘Me feel?’ Connor repeated.

Oh, fuck.

‘Aye. If someone was hitting on my woman I’d not like it very much.’

Connor frowned– he was back in office Connor mode– and left a ‘You Haven’t Intimidated Me’ length pause.

‘Bel isn’t “my woman”.’

‘That’s surprising then, cos on Friday my mate saw youholding hands,’ Aaron said, with an accusatory flourish, looking to Bel. ‘And then you got into a taxi together and left early? Sudoku and a mug of Knoops hot chocolate was it?’

‘God Almighty, do you have people monitoring CCTV?’ Bel said, genuinely a little shaken. The Hackney rank was several minutes’ walk away and out of sight of the venue.

‘How long have you lived in this city? And how long have I lived in this city? Speaking of mugs,’ Aaron said.

‘There’s a tangled explanation for it and none of it involves what you think it involves,’ Bel said.

‘Aye, does it not?’ Aaron said. ‘Try me.’

‘Tell you what,’ Connor said, somewhat terse, ‘I’ll do the coffee run and you get Aaron up to date? I don’t think my contribution adds anything.’

‘Good idea,’ Bel said, with relief, as Connor opened a filing cabinet and rifled in the petty cash.

It would be easier one to one. Also, she didn’t know if Connor had enhanced powers of intuition or just really needed a flat white but Bel knew Aaron’s irritation with her would contain things not suited to Connor’s ears. Actually, on reflection, she suspected Connor was principally fuming at the idea Aaron had rights to know who he was sleeping with, and she didn’t blame him.

Once the door downstairs had clanged shut, Aaron looked to Bel.

‘This should be good,’ he said. ‘Your faces just now! As transparent as a jellyfish’s arse.’

‘You know the man from theYorkshire Postyou spoke to the other day for me, Ant? Trying to get up here to say hi?’

‘Yeah?’

‘He’s actually got an unhealthy fixation with me. He tried to hassle me at the awards, Connor happened to see it and intervened. Ant assumed we were a couple and it was effective to play into it to scare him off,’ Bel said.

‘Mmm. Chivalry isn’t dead. Adams worked all this out by clairvoyance and had the confidence to stride over, did he? You know what, Macauley, I didn’t think you’d ever treat me like a fool.’

‘I said it was a tangled story and you’ve only had the first part.’

Aaron made a hands up ‘enlighten me’ gesture.

‘A month ago, I’m undercover—’

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