Page 20 of Sorry, Not Sorry
She drew in a sharp breath and balled her fists. Relax, it’s okay. You can do this. Her lips felt as stiff as cardboard, but she forced her voice to sound normal. ‘The usual married couple ups and downs, I suppose… Mum really loved being married.’
‘Tell me more.’ Arne pressed his fingertips together, his head tilted to the side attentively.
Delilah nodded, but when she tried to speak, her breathing suddenly felt shallow. She could feel her pulse racing and she pushed her hair back from her face, fighting the overwhelming urge to jump out of the chair and run from Arne’s office. She took in several deep breaths before she could trust herself to continue.
‘Th – they went to school together. He asked her out when they were fifteen and they stayed together until – until the end.’
As if sensing her distress, Arne moved on. ‘You mentioned earlier your realisation that you have hurt people’s feelings but then not given them a second thought. Why do you think that is?’
At the change in topic, the pounding in Delilah’s chest began to ease, and intensely relieved, she answered before she could catch herself. ‘I don’t remember bad things that happen – or at least I’ve learned not to. So, it’s surprising to me that other people don’t do the same. I was shocked when I realised how upset Kwame still is with me even though it’s been years since we were together. And Des—’ She broke off and shook her head. Delilah hadn’t dared admit, even to Salome, just how desperately remorseful she’d felt after her encounter with Desmond, and how hypocritical she’d felt for criticising clients like Ross for not pulling their emotional weight.
‘What about Desmond?’
‘He looked so incredibly hurt when he asked me why I’d left him. It’s beyond ironic that I dare to give people advice about their relationships when I’ve messed up so many of my own.’ Her eyes welled up as a wave of sadness engulfed her.
There was a long silence, and then Arne said gently, ‘That’s a big step, Delilah. Let’s stop there for today.’
15
The club was heaving when Delilah walked in, with a queue two people deep pressed up around the bar. The multicoloured strobe lights and thumping eighties disco music were an immediate turn-off and under normal circumstances, she would have walked straight out again. But Armenique had chosen the venue, and Delilah was desperate to see her friend and catch up on the office gossip – most of which she suspected was about her – and frankly it was a relief to get out of her flat. At the end of the day, even Kool & The Gang at full blast was better than another night in watching reality TV and property makeover shows.
She looked round the dimly lit bar, and spotting Armenique’s shiny silver headwrap, Delilah weaved her way through the crush to where her friend had snagged a table and was scrolling through her phone, her head bobbing in time to the music, and tapped her shoulder. Armenique sprang up, hugging her so tightly that the huge silver star-shaped brooch pinned onto her clingy black one-shouldered jumpsuit almost took Delilah’s eye out.
‘Girl, you look stunning!’ Delilah stepped back to eye Armenique’s outfit with a raised eyebrow. ‘You should have said we were dressing up!’ she said plaintively, gesturing towards her own black trousers and plain white crop top.
‘Ah babe! With those curves, you’re gorgeous whatever you wear.’ Armenique smiled. ‘Turn around – I’m loving the hair!’
Delilah obliged with a grin, shaking her head from side to side to show off her new shoulder-length twists. ‘Thanks. I needed a change.’ Bored to distraction and with nothing but time on her hands, she had spent half a day earlier that week undoing her long braids followed by a further two hours hanging around in the local salon waiting for her nimble-fingered hairdresser, Eunice, to style her hair. Taking the empty chair at the table, Delilah looked up and wrinkled her nose at the multicoloured lights spinning across the ceiling in time to Donna Summer.
Armenique followed Delilah’s gaze and shuffled her chair forward. ‘I swear I had no idea they were doing an eighties night,’ she said apologetically. ‘I got this table cos it’s furthest away from the speakers, so at least we can hear ourselves. I’ve ordered us a bottle of Prosecco?—’
She broke off as a harried-looking waiter appeared with an ice bucket and two glasses. He twisted off the cork in one swift movement and filled the glasses, and as soon as he’d gone, Armenique raised a glass and clinked it against Delilah’s.
‘Cheers, Del! It’s so good to see you. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed not having you at work.’
‘I’ve missed you more! Trust me, I’d give anything to be back.’ Delilah took a long sip of the chilled wine and leaned back happily in her chair. After Farhan had finally succumbed to the flu, she had been avoiding Salome’s house all week, and it was great to spend time with Armenique, who had grown into a dear friend. Tonight was exactly what Delilah needed after days of near isolation and nights punctuated with disturbing dreams about Noah and waking up in a cold sweat, drenched in vivid memories of the past.
The music changed, and Delilah put down her glass and leaned forward to make herself heard above Rick Astley.
‘How’s everything at the office?’
Armenique grinned wickedly and arched her perfectly shaped eyebrows, clearly unconvinced by Delilah’s attempt to sound casual. ‘I think you mean how’s Polly and what’s she said about you coming back?’
Delilah pulled a face and braced herself. ‘So, what has she told everyone about why I’m not at work?’
Armenique sipped her wine and waved an airy hand. ‘There’s nothing to stress about, Del. You know Polly’s discreet. She sent out an email to everyone saying you were on a leave of absence, and that she’ll be handling your client list until you get back.’
Delilah tossed back the rest of the wine in her glass, relieved her reputation was still intact but also frustrated that Polly’s communique gave no clues about how long Delilah was suspended. ‘Yeah, well I wish her luck with the Hendersons. Who knows – maybe she’ll be able to get through to Brian!’
Grabbing the bottle from the ice bucket, she refilled their glasses while singing along as Gloria Gaynor belted out ‘I Will Survive’. Already lightheaded from the first glass, she pushed caution aside and swallowed a large gulp of Prosecco. There was nothing she could do about her job situation and tonight was the first time she’d been out in ages. Forget about Polly and enjoy yourself!
Armenique echoed her thoughts. ‘Let’s not talk about the office. What I really want to hear about is how your apologies are going!’
Delilah had spilled the beans about Salome’s infamous list in an unguarded moment over lunch. Having to revisit the awkward encounters with her former boyfriends wasn’t top on her list of preferred conversations, but knowing Armenique would prise the details out of her one way or another, Delilah filled her in while they worked their way through the rest of the bottle – and ordered a second.
‘Good for you, Del. God, you’re so brave!’ Armenique exclaimed. ‘There’s no way I’d have the guts to confront my exes. Ugh, you must have felt so vulnerable, not knowing how they were going to react. But I do think your sister’s right. When Polly hears you’ve taken her advice to heart, I bet it makes all the difference.’
The waiter arrived with another bottle of Prosecco and when he’d refilled their glasses, Armenique took a sip of her drink and smacked her lips loudly before eyeing Delilah curiously. ‘So who’s next, then?’
