Page 41 of The Importance of Being Emma
Poor Mark, he was obviously devastated by the breakup. I crossed the room, put my arms round his waist and hugged him.
‘Tell me about it,’ I said. ‘After all, that’s what friends are for.’
For a split second he let me hold him, just as I’d let him hold me last night. Then he said brusquely, ‘Thanks, but no thanks’, and shook me off, gently but firmly. He sat down at his desk and started leafing through a neat pile of post, evidently unimportant until now.
I followed him and perched on the edge of the desk. ‘So have you split up?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He yanked a mind-numbingly thick document from the pile and turned the pages absently. ‘Actually, it’s been in the offing for some time.’
‘Really?’ I paused in surprise, then went on, ‘It can still hurt, though. I remember when I finished with Piers, and then Scott, Iwas ever so upset — even though it was absolutely the right thing to do. And I hadn’t been with them for anything like as long as you’ve been with Tamara.’ I added wistfully, ‘D’you know, it’s been over two months since I even kissed a man, let alone—’
‘For God’s sake!’ He put his head in his hands. After a few seconds, he looked up at me and frowned. ‘Sorry, don’t think I can cope with hearing about your sex life right now. Or anyone else’s, for that matter.’
‘No, I’m the one who should apologise, it was very insensitive of me. But, in case you’re wondering, Saturday night doesn’t count because I didn’t kiss Philip back.’ I pulled a face. ‘Which sort of brings me to our mentoring meeting, you were going to ring me today with a date. Now that you’ve, um, got more time on your hands, how about this week?’
He sighed and looked at his PC screen. ‘My diary’s full, meetings from this afternoon onwards, I’m afraid.’
I gave him an encouraging smile. ‘If office hours are no good, what about after work?’
‘I’ve already booked something up for the next two evenings, made some phone calls first thing this morning. And Thursday’s our Board meeting, that always involves dinner.’
‘Friday?’
He hesitated. Then, ‘I’m at Ashridge. Alumni dinner, with a speaker.’
I leaned forward. ‘Anyone of interest?’
‘No one mainstream, you won’t have heard of him.’ He busied himself with the post again, apparently engrossed by something on an Inland Revenue letterhead.
‘Have you, er, got a spare ticket?’
Another sigh. ‘If you mean, was Tamara coming with me — then, yes, she was.’
‘So why don’t I come instead?’ I said eagerly. ‘You wanted to take me there to look at market research reports, remember? We could have our mentoring meeting at the same time.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Please, Mark.’ I reached across the desk and covered his hand with mine.
He snatched his hand away. ‘No, Emma. Another time maybe.’
Something inside me snapped. ‘You made a commitment to mentor me, but it’s — it’s almost as though you’re trying to wriggle out of it!’ Before Saturday, the very suggestion would have been music to my ears; whereas now . . .
He got up, crossed to the window and stared out at whatever he’d found so absorbing when I arrived. ‘I’m not. I just don’t think taking you to Ashridge is a good idea at the moment.’
‘On the contrary, from my point of view the timing’s bloody perfect. The research would be very useful before I do the focus groups and, as I’ve already told you, on the mentoring front I need advice about Philip, urgently.’
He kept his back to me and his tone was cold and clipped. ‘The answer’s still no.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ I muttered, under my breath.
And I left without another word.
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