Page 24 of The Layover
‘Leon should get his head out of his arse,’ she says. ‘And seriously, who types “grr” in a text like that? What an ick.’
I laugh. I think I laugh, anyway. There’s a ringing sound in my ears and the relief that shedidn’tfind anything is positively crushing, smothers all the air out of my lungs. I say something like, ‘Tell me about it,’ and count my lucky stars. I think I need a second or two to recover, actually, so I stand up and pick up her empty cup, along with my own.
‘I think I’m going to get another drink. Do you want one?’
‘Yes please! Same again.’ She beams at me, and pushes her glasses up her nose with the tip of her middle finger. ‘And then you can tell me all about why my best friend’s fiancé is busy flirting with you when he’s about to get married.’
My stomach plummets through the floor.
And Leon’s voice behind me says, ‘What?’
Chapter Thirteen
Gemma
Ooh, the drama.
It isdelicious.
I live for it, really, I do.
Francesca stands there, speechless and ashen, mouth gaping open, looking for all the world as if her soul just left her body. Off to one side, Leon, eyes wide and mouth tight; but it’s not the white-hot fury I would’ve expected – it’s more like … vindication.
And me, leaning forward with my elbows propped up on the table, and I justknowthere’s a glint of excitement in my eyes, my smile something toothy and vicious – which, really, is not so much to do with Francesca at all.
What a tableau we must make. A veritable Renaissance painting. All three of us caught up in this storm (the figurativeandliteral kind) while the dull hubbub of the airport continues around us. People balancing trays of food, families wrangling tired or unruly children, solo travellers bent over devices trying to block it all out and get some work done – all of them oblivious to the absolute hellscape that’s about to unfold here.
And oh, it isexcellent.
Kudos to Marcus, of course, for the plausible deniability. His texts walk a very careful line of ‘just being friendly!’, but Iknow. Any self-respecting girl dating in the social networkingera would know. I mean, we used to log off and back onto MSN to get our crush to notice us when we were kids.
We know.
Marcus’s texts aren’t the kind of stuff you’d get a guy sending you on a dating app. They’re somehow worse. Charming, casual in the way only an established relationship of any kind can be, andjuuustlong enough that he’s obviously invested even though, from the quick scroll I just had, he only reacts a very little to anything Fran says and never asks her questions. He’s doing the bare minimum to prove he’s interested in what she has to say, knowing she’ll respond to whatever self-centred crap he spouts.
He hasn’t got to waste time fluffing her ego with compliments, trying to win her over. He’s joked to us all often enough about how she obviously has a crush on him, how pathetic and sweet that is, howsorryhe feels for her.
It’s the kind of way Kayleigh talks to me. It’s so easy to recognise.
Whatever Marcus really thinks about his work wife’s crush on him, he’s absolutely guilty of pandering to it.
Which, knowing Marcus, he wouldn’t do unless there was a benefit to him. He doesn’t doanythingwithout putting himself first. He’s a lot like Kayleigh that way.
Does Kayleigh know he’s indulging Fran with all these texts? Does she even know theytext? Pretty regularly, too. There’s at least one message from him every day for the last week or so, and that was only as far back as my scroll took me. I can only imagine what’s further back in the chat history. Surely she would’ve mentioned it to me before if she knew.
But I’m not thinking,I should tell her; my best friend is about to marry this man and look at this scumbag, red-flag behaviour; she needs to know, I have to tell her.
I’m thinking,This is fucking great.
It’s all I can do not to burst out laughing. This isn’t evensurprising, coming from Marcus, and Kayleigh would go absolutely ballistic if I did tell her, which is a real double standard coming from her, and how much fun would it be to watch her perfect life implode then?
She certainly enjoyed it plenty when it was my life imploding.
I wouldn’t even need the video, then. I could be the architect of her destruction without even really getting my hands dirty.
Iamher best friend, though, so I know my barely contained glee comes off as righteous indignation and a ‘Ha, gotcha!’ to Francesca and Leon, which is all that matters.
Leon turns more fully to Fran, now, and she shrinks in on herself, both our empty cups huddled into her body.
