Page 38 of One Summer Weekend
‘Yes?’
‘I hope you have a greattime in Portugal. Where are you staying?’
‘Near Albufeira – six of us in a villa. Thanks, Alicia, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you bailing me out here. By the way, how’s your work going up north – everything on track?’
‘Of course.’ The lie came easily, but perhaps it was simply another version of the truth, relating to the track of my own coaching journey. Because, in spiteof everything, this weekend was allowing me to address one problem – even if it might be giving me another.
‘And what about supervision? As Judy’s not available, shall I ask Tom to give you a call?’
A half-formed decision crystallised in my mind. ‘No need. I’ll get Celia to arrange a debrief meeting for when you get back. You, me and Gary,’ I added, pressing my mobile even closer tomy ear in anticipation of his reply.
‘Good idea. Looks like we’re getting a new assignment that I’d like you to lead on, so the sooner you hand Leo Components over to Gary, the better.’
‘Excellent.’ A sudden comprehension that today might be the last time I saw Jack, unless … I blinked rapidly – which cleared the mist from my eyes, but did nothing for the lump in my throat. ‘See youa week on Monday.’
The call ended but the embrace, thankfully, did not. Maybe I’d underestimated the therapeutic value of being held by a man with no obvious agenda. That had never happened with Troy. Looking back, his agenda had been perfectly obvious; I’d just misinterpreted it as something else.
It was Jack who stepped away, breaking the spell and the silence. ‘Are you ready togo?’ His voice sounded strained.
‘Give me five minutes.’ I kept my back to him as I fumbled with the fastening of my bra.
‘Here, let me.’ His hands took over the task – efficient and deft, with no thought of lingering. Not like before the call. He cleared his throat. ‘Why don’t you get what you need from your case? Then I can take it to the car while you change.’
Without a word,without even a look, I retrieved my trousers and closed my suitcase. It was easier than expected to busy myself with bed-making until he’d gone. I changed my clothes in slow motion, as if putting off my goodbyes – and not just the ones with Midge and Bill. Finally, I was ready to leave; I twisted the shorts into a tight ball and buried them in my laptop bag. Symbolic, no doubt – but this wasn’tthe moment for self-analysis.
I could hear the others as soon as I entered the house: a blend of laughter coming from the kitchen, Jack’s long and low and instantly recognisable. I paused, welded a smile onto my face, then stepped purposefully through the doorway.
Midge spun round. ‘Hi there! We were just planning where to go next time you come—’
‘And Jack said he doubted that’dbe any time soon,’ Bill put in, ‘because we’d probably frightened you off.’
‘Me especially.’ Midge giggled. ‘And I told him he was just trying to shame me into some sort of confession about all the dirt I’d dished on him.’
‘But I said she was way off the mark,’ Jack said, meeting my gaze at last, ‘and that it was more about the Hermann effect.’
‘The Hermann effect?’ I echoedstupidly.
Jack came straight over and put his arm round me, and I realised, with a pang, that this was the final act of our role play. ‘You weren’t expecting to sleep in a vintage motorhome, were you, love? You like your five-star luxury.’
My smile flickered as I lifted my eyes to his. ‘But maybe Hermann has something that money can’t buy.’ And I felt my cheeks burn as I recalled recentevents in the motorhome …
Midge was talking; I made a determined effort to concentrate. ‘… And we’ll get the spare room sorted, so you’ll be able to sleep there next time. Not that it’ll be five-star luxury,’ she added hastily, ‘but it’ll be a lot more comfortable – and much nearer the bathroom, of course.’
I shot a desperate look at Jack, but all he did was tighten his grip on myshoulder. ‘Great, we’ll look forward to it, although Alicia seems to have a soft spot for Hermann after all.’
We said our goodbyes to Midge and Bill. The warmth of their hugs disconcerted me, but only for a moment; the extraction of my promise to come back soon weighed more heavily on my conscience.
In the car, Jack launched straight into an account of the fishing, while I stared outof the window. I wondered if he was talking about his one-on-one time with Bill to provoke me. Not that I needed reminding how badly I’d neglected the business agenda in favour of a far more personal one. As a result, I had merely the sketchy beginnings of a deep dive, instead of the detailed output I needed for the debrief with Stuart and Gary.
Except … it was worth it, in spite of theemotional upheaval. If this weekend – this man – has taught me anything, it’s that I’m ready to live my life in colour again, not black and white. It might be the delicate hues of a Midge landscape – that’s more my style than a vibrant oil painting – but it won’t be the tentative, easily-rubbed-out lines of a pencil drawing. Not any longer. Even if, like last time, I get hurt …
For now,though, I had to pull myself together. And, fortunately for me, I suspected that Jack Smith the temporary boyfriend would provide some key insights into Jack Smith the company director.I’m more of a rifle than a scatter gun – identify the target, take aim,thenfire.As I’d said at the time, it was an interesting metaphor. And the demonstration that followed … I closed my eyes – to shut it outor re-live it?
‘Sorry, Alicia, didn’t mean to give you a lecture on trout flies.’ His words hinted at a change of subject, and I roused myself for more of a two-way conversation. He went on, ‘Call it nerves, I suppose. Because, now that the role play’s over, we can go back to normal. Trouble is, I’ve forgotten what normal feels like.’
‘Same here,’ I said, without thinking.
‘I’mglad about that, I knew it wasn’t just me. There’s a – a connection between us, on all levels, isn’t there? I don’t know how else to describe it – maybe you should have a go.’
