Sadie looks utterly flummoxed.
“You can’t be serious.” She finds her voice. “You can’t be.”
“Well, I am,” I shoot back, as my phone buzzes with a text. I glance down, and it’s from Ed.
Hey. R u still on for sightseeing on Sunday? E
“That was from Josh.” I smile lovingly at my phone. “We’re meeting up on Sunday.”
“To get married and have six children?” says Sadie sarcastically. But she sounds on the defensive.
“You know, Sadie,” I give her a patronizing smile, “you may be able to sway people’s heads. But you can’t sway their hearts.”
Ha. Take that, ghostie .
Sadie glowers at me, and I can tell she can’t think of a reply. She looks so disconcerted, I almost feel cheered up. I swing around the corner and into the door of our building.
“There’s a girl in your office, by the way,” says Sadie, following me. “I don’t like the look of her one little bit.”
“Girl? What girl?” I hurry up the stairs, wondering if Shireen has come by. I push open the door, stride in-and stop dead with shock.
It’s Natalie.
What the hell is Natalie doing here?
She’s right there in front of me. Sitting in my chair. Talking on my phone. She’s looking deeply tanned and wearing a white shirt with a navy pencil skirt, and laughing throatily at something. As she sees me, she demonstrates no surprise, just gives me a wink.
“Well, thanks, Janet. I’m glad you appreciate the work,” she says in her confident, drawling way. “You’re right-Clare Fortescue has hidden her light under a bushel. Hugely talented. Perfect for you. I was determined to woo her… No, thank you . That’s my job, Janet, that’s why you pay me my commission…” She gives that deep, throaty laugh again.
I shoot a shocked glance over at Kate, who gives me a helpless shrug.
“We’ll be in touch.” Natalie’s still talking. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Lara. She obviously has a few things to learn, but… Well, yes, I did have to pick up the pieces, but she’s a promising girl. Don’t write her off.” She winks at me again. “OK, thanks, Janet. We’ll do lunch. Take care now.” As I stare in disbelief, Natalie puts down the phone, swivels around, and smiles at me lazily. “So. How’s tricks?”
NINETEEN
It’s Sunday morning, and I’m still seething. At myself. How could I be so lame?
On Friday I was so shocked that somehow I let Natalie take charge of the situation. I didn’t confront her. I didn’t make any of my points. They were all buzzing around my head like trapped flies.
I know now all the things I should have said to her. I should have said, “You can’t just come back and act like nothing’s happened.” And: “How about an apology for leaving us in the lurch?” And: “Don’t you dare take credit for finding Clare Fortescue; that was all down to me!”
And maybe even: “So you were fired from your last job, huh? When were you planning to tell me that?”
But I didn’t say any of those things. I just gasped and said feebly, “Natalie! Wow! How come you’re-What-”
And she launched into a long story about how the guy in Goa turned out to be a two-timing asshole, and there’s only so much downtime you can have before you go crazy, and she’d decided to surprise me, and wasn’t I relieved?
“Natalie,” I began, “it’s been really stressy with you gone-”
“Welcome to big business.” She winked at me. “Stress comes with the territory.”
“But you just disappeared! We didn’t have any warning! We had to pick up all the pieces-”
“Lara.” She held out a hand, as though to say, Calm down . “I know. It was tough. But it’s OK. Whatever fuckups happened while I was gone, I’m here to put them right. Hello, Graham?” She turned to the phone. “Natalie Masser here.”
And she carried on all afternoon, moving seamlessly from phone call to phone call, so I couldn’t get a word in. As she left for the evening, she was gabbing on her mobile and just gave Kate and me a casual wave.
So that’s it. She’s back. She’s acting like she’s the boss and she did nothing wrong and we should all be really grateful to her for coming back.
If she winks at me one more time, I will throttle her.
Miserably, I wrench my hair into a ponytail. I’m barely making any effort today. Sightseeing does not require a flapper dress. And Sadie still thinks I’m going out with Josh, so she’s not bossing me around for once.
I eye Sadie surreptitiously as I do my blusher. I feel a bit bad, lying to her. But then, she shouldn’t have been so obnoxious.
“I don’t want you coming along,” I warn her for the millionth time. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of coming along!” she retorts, affronted. “You think I want to trail along beside you and the ventriloquist’s dummy? I’m going to watch television. There’s a Fred Astaire special today. Edna and I will have a lovely day together.”
“Good. Well, give her my love,” I say sarcastically.
Sadie’s found an old woman called Edna who lives a few streets away and does nothing but watch black-and-white films. She goes there most days now, sits on the sofa beside Edna, and watches a movie. She says the only problem comes when Edna gets phone calls and talks through the movie-so now she’s taken to yelling, “Shut up! Finish your phone call!” right in Edna’s ear. Whereupon Edna gets all flustered and sometimes even thrusts the phone down mid-sentence.