Page 27 of The Layover
As I dump the sugar packets into my tea, Francesca sits down and looks between me and Gemma, then at the phone. Her spine is ramrod-straight even as she picks at her nail varnish, making her look like she’s been called into the headmaster’s office, not sure if she’s allowed her phone back after getting caught using it in class or something.
Gemma takes a noisy sip of her drink and smacks her lips.
‘So,haveyou shagged?’
Francesca makes a sort of choking noise, face flushing, and stammers until Gemma cuts in, ‘That doesn’t sound a lot like ano.’
‘We haven’t – I mean … It’s not likenothinghappened,’ she says, ‘but it was before he even met Kayleigh. Everyone at the office always expected us to get together, but then obviously she came on the scene, and it’s not like Marcus and I could juststop…’ A guilty glance at the phone, then a panicked, plaintive look at each of us. Her eyes are huge, and framed by thick, long lashes. ‘Nothing’s happened since then. I knew he was with somebody, and—’
‘Didn’t stop you texting him, though,’ Gemma points out.
‘We’d just, you know, message at work sometimes, meet up for lunch or go to the pub with everyone after work …Heasked formynumber, for the record.’ Francesca’s chest puffs out, her eyes shining with emotion now. ‘To make sure I got home safe, after a night out got a bit rowdy.’
I don’t know why she seems proud of that. Why she says it like it’s some badge of honour, some accomplishment to brag about. Gemma pulls a face, though, obviously hearing something I don’t, like she did with the texts.
If Francesca didn’t look so worked up, I’d think Gemma was just pulling my leg.
But Marcus’s ‘friend’ barrels on, the words pouring out of her now, and I don’t think we could shut her up if we tried.
‘I haven’t beenpursuinghim, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d never go after someone in a relationship like that. We were friends before, and now we’re friends again, but – but we weremorethan that, once, and we missed our chance, we both moved on with our lives … But that’s only because he thoughtIrejectedhim. This whole thing was just – it was one stupid moment, one wild miscommunication that spiralled out of control, and now …’
Gemma’s mouth is slack, hanging wide open; she’s so stunned I don’t think she even blinks.
I’m not sure I understand what I’m hearing. Or – not sure I believe it, rather.
Francesca’s on a roll, though, and says, ‘We have a realconnection, and you can’t just ignore that, it doesn’t just go away, even if we’vebothtried, and now – now he’s marrying someone else, and he doesn’t even know I feel the same wayabout him as he does about me, and hehasto know, it’s my last chance to tell him, and he—’
‘Whoa, whoa, hold up.’ Gemma recovers first, places both palms flat on the table, peering over the top of her glasses. ‘You think he’s in love with you?’
Francesca blushes a deeper shade of red, which gives her away.Yes.
‘Ohmigod,’ Gemma breathes. ‘Oh – my –God.’
I remember all the things I’ve heard second-hand about Francesca. That she practically stalks Marcus around the office and always shows up uninvited to after-work drinks, laughing at his jokes and vying for his attention. That she’stoofriendly with him when he’s invited her to get-togethers with other colleagues and Kayleigh’s there, says things like how they’re so in sync with each other, reallygeteach other, makes sure she sits next to him.
Maybe all those things are true.
Marcus has always maintained that it’s sad and pathetic but it’s nothing, he’s above it, it’s a joke. He’s not interested, doesn’t give her the time of day outside of sharing mutual friends at work and being nice to her around the office.
But those texts.
He wouldn’t bother replying if he didn’t care. He wouldn’t be so chatty and send selfies and tell her all about his day if he wasn’t interested on some level.
So maybe all those things I’ve heard about Francesca are true.
But – maybe all the things she’s telling us now are, too.
And she sits there, back straight, shoulders squared, all steady and set, because she really believes … he’s in love with her. Like she’s in love with him. Like she thinks she’s the main character in a romcom or something.
It’s so completely ridiculous that I snort, and say, ‘So, what, you’re going to race to the wedding and yell ‘I object!’ and tell him he can’t marry my sister because he should marryyouinstead, and the two of you will ride off into the sunset, happily ever after?’
‘I – n-no, that’s not … Well, I—’
‘Ohmigod,’ Gemma gasps. ‘It is, isn’t it? That’s totally what you’re planning to do. You’re going totell him. You’re going to try to break up the wedding.’
Francesca blushes to the roots of her brown hair and I wait for Gemma to erupt – even before she’s had a chance to digest this news, I can already see her leaping to her feet and screaming at Francesca –How dare you/that’s my best friend/what world are you living in– and probably ending up getting security called to calm her down for causing such a scene …
But instead, she throws back her head, opens her mouth wide, and lets out a cackle like she’s auditioning forHocus Pocus. She laughs so hard there are tears streaming down her cheeks, and she bends forward, clutching her sides and wheezing.
