Maybe I—and all my friends—had imagined Charles’s interest. Or maybe he’d already had what he wanted from me. Or maybe—this seemed the most likely option—he felt there was no mileage in pursuing a connection that was about to be broken off, since I was flying off that day to interview for a job thousands of miles away.
I fell back against my seat, letting out a breath.
Well. So much for that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Charles
Repairs to theflat inevitably took longer than estimated. Ended up living out of my windowless hotel room for three weeks.
It was all right. Being in the flat would have been depressing anyway, with Loretta away. Office was quiet, too, now I was on my own again.
I worked and went to the gym. Great thing about work, there’s always something to keep you occupied. Though even there I found myself scraping the barrel after a while, writing case notes for the department blog and doing the cybersecurity training I’d ignored for the past two years.
Client billable work had gone quiet all at once. The Jamaludin case was dead in the water, for us at least—the documents Kriya’s contact had sent had tipped the balance with the risk management committee, even with the prospect of losing the work on Blackmount’s two hundred million acquisition deal.
Farah had been the one to email Shaw the news that the firm wouldn’t be advising further on the suit against Helen Daley. I’d been told to decline any calls and reroute any emails from Shaw upwards, but he hadn’t been in touch, not even torespond to Farah’s email. Presumably he was exploring other options.
At least the repairs to the flat were done in time for Loretta and Hayley’s return from honeymoon. I was back in occupation two days before their arrival. Loretta texted me from Heathrow in the early morning:
At baggage reclaim. Won’t see you before you leave for work, but come home for dinner, OK? Hayley’s cooking.
Bunked off early, at seven p.m. It was like coming home to a new flat. Loretta and Hayley’s suitcases were in the hall. There was a pile of exquisitely packaged Japanese biscuits and cakes on the kitchen counter. (Loretta: “Those are for you. We got the local speciality in every city we went to.”)
The dining table was laid, with wine glasses and napkins and a vase of flowers at the centre. Didn’t even know we had a vase.
Dinner was veggie moussaka with garlic bread and salad on the side, and a bottle of red wine, with tiramisu for dessert. Change from the Sainsbury’s meal deals I’d been subsisting on for the past few weeks. Lifted my head when I was finished and said, in quiet awe:
“Loretta, you are going to get so fat.”
Loretta, smugly: “I know.”
Hayley: “The tiramisu was from M&S. I can’t take any credit for that.”
Loretta: “We’re giving you the credit, babe, whether you like it or not.”
They kissed. I looked away. Entirely correct of them to be visibly in love, but I wasn’t in the mood to be the light bulb to a blissful romance just then.
Conversation focused on Japan: pictures from their trip and so on. It was only after dinner, once Loretta had collected our plates and dumped them in the sink, that she said:
“What have you been up to, while we were away?”
CG: “Mostly trying to sort the flat. Someone’s coming tolook at the stain on your bedroom wall on Friday. I’m planning to work from home—”
Loretta: “I meant with Kriya!”
Hayley looking polite, as befit an in-law who was going to have to live with me for an indefinite number of weeks. But she was definitely listening.
Knew what Loretta had really been asking about, of course.
CG: “Kriya’s left the firm.”
Loretta’s eyes widened. “Oh my God! She got pushed out by that partner who was harassing her?”
CG: “Essentially. But I don’t think she was happy even before the issues with him began. It sounds like it’s been the right move for her. She messaged yesterday from the airport, she’s flown off for a job interview in Hong Kong.”
Was pleased by how that came out: neutral, professional. Sounded like I wished her well in her future endeavours. Well, I do.