“Pinkie, this is Hanna Vincent, one of my oldest friends.” Tom looked up and winked at Hanna.
“You don’t look that old.” Pinkie replied, her face frowning in confusion. Hanna heard Robert start to guffaw next to her.
“No, sweetie, she’s not an old friend, as in years, she’s old as in I’ve known her for years.”
“I’m twenty.” Hanna decided this would be easier if she just came out with it.
Pinkie repaid Hanna’s frank reply with a dazzling smile, and Hanna could see exactly what Tom saw in her. Her face was open and guileless, and even if she didn’t appear to have too much going on between her ears, whatever was there seemed kind and friendly.
“Have you two known each other long?” Hanna asked, very interested in the reply. She had a feeling she was going to be able to live off this story for the next few months.
“We met at the Rock Star wrap party. Tommy came up and told me that he’d voted for me a hundred times every week.
The need to laugh washed over Hanna again. With his street cred and her tabloid appeal, Tom and Pinkie were going to be paparazzi fodder of the highest order.
HANNA ARRIVED BACK at Josh’s flat earlier than planned that Sunday. Rifling through her handbag, she found the front door key and let herself in, trying not to breathe in the rancid, damp air that lingered in the hallway. She swung her backpack onto her shoulder, her sandaled feet stepping onto the threadbare carpet of the stairs. She slowly walked up to the second floor, her muscles feeling leaden in reaction to the sudden exertion. Her body ached. She wanted nothing more than to jump in Josh’s admittedly tiny shower, then crawl under the covers with him for a couple of hours.
The apartment was silent as she let herself in, and she realized that her first supposition—that he hadn’t even bothered getting up—was the correct one. His wallet and keys were still on the counter of his tiny kitchen. Pushing his bedroom door open, her eyes adjusted slowly to the gloom of the curtained room. She placed her rucksack down beside the door and walked over to his bed.
Her legs reacted before her mind did, as if they sensed the wrongness of the moment. Hanna stopped suddenly, seeing the two of them sleeping, their naked bodies entwined beneath the draping covers of the thin white sheet. Josh’s arm was flung across the woman’s waist, his head buried in her neck as he gently breathed; his slumbering face a picture of innocence.
Numbness enveloped her body. She recognized the woman. They’d met a few times when Hanna joined Josh and his workmates in the pub on a Friday night. He had introduced her as his boss, and the two of them had barely interacted during all the times she had seen them together. Now the connection was way too close for comfort, and Hanna closed her mouth in an attempt to quiet the cry that was trying to escape her throat.
Fight or flight? She bit her thumbnail, her face screwed up with misery, as she tried to decide the best thing to do. Should she confront them before they had time to make up a story to cover up their indiscretions? Or should she run and leave the room with a small modicum of her dignity intact?
Her mind was made up for her, when Josh moved languorously, lifting his arm from the woman’s waist and stretching it over his head, his eyes opening slowly and blinkingly, as they reacted to the dim light. Raising his head from the pillow, he looked over at Hanna and smiled, opening his mouth to say something before he looked down and saw the naked woman lying beside him.
The look of horror that crossed his face was almost comical.
“What the fuck?”
“I
think that’s supposed to be my line.” Hanna’s voice sounded surprisingly controlled to her as she surveyed the mess that was her relationship.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Glastonbury.” He pulled the sheet up to cover their naked bodies. A bark of laughter wound its way up her larynx as she realized that he was trying to put the fault straight back onto her. And then the laughter was replaced by a sob, and she knew she had to get out of there right now.
Reason had kicked into her brain, punching its way through the numbness, and she turned around to pick up her backpack before walking out through his bedroom door. She could hear him shouting at her, but didn’t reply, increasing her pace until she crossed the few feet to his front door.
It was like her whole body had been hit hard. Her muscles felt tight and edgy as she ran down the stairs, barely noticing the weight of her backpack as she moved. Her heartbeat sped in response to the shock of seeing them there. She had no idea how she made it outside without falling over.
Hanna wanted to slap the palm of her hand right across Josh Chambers’ face until she heard the satisfying thwack of his teeth hitting his inner cheek. She wanted to climb up into her mum’s lap like she was five years old again, and a simple cuddle would erase all of the hurt.
Most of all, she needed to go home and crawl into her little single bed, pull the duvet over her head and bawl her eyes out.
Nine
January 9th 2003
Richard walked over to the wall of glass that stretched across the entire south side of his office. Being on the fifteenth floor, it afforded him an impressive outlook of Lower Manhattan, and he could see all the way out to the port. The view of the office buildings, contrasting with the natural beauty of the waterway, was breath taking. It was the vista that sold the office space to him in the first place.
Since taking control of Maxwell Enterprises, his life had turned into one endless Groundhog Day of waking at five, running in Central Park, then showering and being driven to work before seven. He’d be in meetings, conferences, lunches, and presentations until the evening when he would respond to emails, write reports, and catch up on correspondence until late, barely getting home before midnight.
Yet, despite the hard work, and the lack of sleep, there was a part of Richard Larsen that loved his new life—the excitement of the chase and the jubilation when a deal was struck. This, coupled with the knowledge that he was rebuilding Maxwell Enterprises, got him through the endless days and restless nights.
His telephone buzzed, and he walked back to his desk and pushed the button.
“Yes, Lisa?”