Page 30 of Strap In
‘So… Are we still on for Friday?’
Mind fogged, it takes Jean a moment to puzzle out what she’s getting at. TheHamiltontickets. ‘Yes, but I still don’t understand why you’re so excited. It’s just a musical. What can there possibly be that you didn’t pick up the first five times?’
‘You’ll see,’ Ava says, a smile warming her voice.
Privately, Jean doubts it. But she’s not about to rain on Ava’s parade. Sooner or later life will knock that capacity for joy from her, and Jean won’t hasten the process.
‘Hey, I had a thought—’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Fuck you very much,’ Ava says, but she’s laughing.
‘What was this thought?’
‘I don’t even want to tell you now.’
Jean smiles to herself. ‘Yes, you do.’
‘You’re right.’ There’s a rustling that suggests movement, and Jean pictures Ava pacing across the breadth of her tiny living room. ‘We’re both coming from work, and it goes on until after ten, so maybe we should get food first. Together. There are good pre-theatre deals.’
Jean blinks. In any other scenario, Ava might be asking her out on a date.
‘I thought it’d be… practical.’
‘I see.’ Jean reaches for the only safe part of this proposition, playing for time. ‘What do you mean, it goes on until after ten? I thought the performance started at seven-thirty.’
‘Hamiltonlasts two hours and fifty minutes, including the interval.’
‘What could possibly justify a three-hour musical?’
‘You’ll see,’ Ava repeats, a smile in her voice. ‘And you’ll appreciate it even more if you’re not hangry.’
Henry had deployed these little tricks with the goal of coaxing Jean out of the office, getting her to understand that there was more to life than the next promotion. And that silent implication ofI know better, the way he’d carried on believing that Jean would change if he only persisted, only stoked the flames of her resentment. Made her saynomore often than she should have, and find satisfaction in the refusal.
But there’s nothing passive aggressive about Ava’s tactics. Only a hope that shines all the brighter for going unspoken. And it’s not like there will ever be another scenario allowing for anything that resembles a date. The thought hooks something behind Jean’s ribs and tugs until she can’t help but say: ‘Alright. Dinner it is.’
‘Cool. I’ll text you the details.’ Ava’s voice is casual, steady. But Jean hears the skip in her step, socked feet thumping against the linoleum.
It’s not a video call, so Jean doesn’t even try to stop herself smiling as she bids Ava goodnight. Barely a minute later, her phone pings with another notification: confirmation of the restaurant booking. Ava has given her no time to back out.
Chapter Thirteen
Jean’s not alone in spending her days in a state of suspense. A week from now, Andreas Leonides and his entourage will be among them. When she arrives on Monday, the office carries an unmistakable scent of fresh paint, so thick Jean can taste it – applied just in time for the odour to fade. But not quickly enough for Jean – it lingers in her sinuses until her head throbs. There’s no time to retreat from her monitors, never mind sleep it off. Jean chugs ibuprofen and paracetamol, sending Helen to every shop in a half-mile radius to stock up her personal desk pharmacy.
Even Peter locks in, turning a blind eye towards the hungrier junior associates pulling all-nighters with ‘gym bags’ containing fresh outfits, travel toothbrushes and endless caffeine supplies. It’s a trick Jean well remembers, though it had been easier in her youth, with only she and Marianne likely to use the women’s bathroom.
Hugo leaves at the same time Jean does, or pretends to – as her car passes by, she spots him doubling back to the office. It’s as if he’s hoping the regular sight of his face will imprint itself on Jean’s mind. Rebecca corners Jean as she steps into the lift with Helen, launching into a spiel of self-promotion before there’s time for a single sip of coffee. Jean doesn’t even have to say anything; she simply skewers Rebecca with a look, puncturing that manic momentum until the girl’s words trickle away to nothing.
Then there’s modesty to a fault; ironically, the most capable candidate has the least to say for herself. Though fully deserving, the junior associate Jean chooses to assist her on the deal doesn’t even try to put herself forward. But when she does speak up in her quiet Edinburgh burr, every word is worth listening to. Rhona’s competence, her ability to set ego aside and focus on the bigger picture, are exactly what’s needed. Jean dispatches Helen to buy two meal deals from the cafeteria – a prawn mayonnaise sandwich and a mediterranean vegetable wrap – and bring them back with Rhona.
A knock on the door. ‘You wanted to see me, Ms Howard?’
Rhona’s Mary Janes, pinafore ensemble, and headband remind Jean of her old school uniform. And Rhona carries herself like an errant schoolgirl summoned by the headmistress, one hand clutching the opposite elbow. It’s not difficult to imagine how Edward steamrollered her into handing everything over.
Jean flashes her a smile. ‘Rhona. Sit down. I seem to recall you having done environmental studies as part of your undergraduate degree – you knew renewable energy would appeal to Andreas Leonides. Didn’t you?’
Rhona’s face lights up as she outlines how renewables can detoxify not only the environment, but the Hephaestia brand. Leonides is taking heavy hits in both the court of law and public opinion, facing a Group Litigation Order over multiple oil spills and fierce backlash from Greenpeace to Gaia’s Children – though Rhona is smart enough to avoid giving away her personal opinion on the matter, sticking only to strategy and solutions.
