show on the road and in return just being practically hate-vibed out of it, by people whose jobs I’m only trying to protect.’
‘How do you mean?’ he asked, listening intently.
Another deep-soul searching sigh from her.
‘Well … it’s like this. If people need a bit of time off, I tend to just jump down their throats and remind them that if they can’t hack the job, there’s scores behind them who could and who are only gagging to be given the chance. My catchphrase in work, is that I never ask anyone to do anything I’m not doing myself. And it’s true, I don’t. But instead of respecting me for driving myself and all around me so hard, they all seem to hate and despise me for it. No matter what I do. But if I don’t, we won’t reach our targets, and then even more people’s jobs are on the line. So there you go; catch twenty-two. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. No matter what I do, they’ll still all hate me.’
She didn’t even tell him the worst of it; that was something to be kept locked deep into a secret file marked ‘humiliation’, never to be discussed. The dozens of petty slights she suffered on a daily basis; the way other women instantly stopped talking and left the room whenever she went into the ladies, how on the rare occasions when she would go into the staff canteen, anyone around her would instantly shuffle guiltily back to their desks, like she even begrudged them meal breaks. Hearing about all the birthday parties and weddings and nights out that she was never asked along to.
Not that she’d even have had the time to go, but sometimes she thought it would just be nice to be asked, that was all.
‘Never too late to change,’ he told her softly, instinctively reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. It felt right though and she didn’t pull away.
‘Never too late to go a bit easier on everyone around you, maybe even cut them a bit of slack every now and then,’ he added. ‘So maybe try being a bit more tolerant and social with people, give them the time of day a bit more. Go on, give it a chance,’ he suggested, looking at her keenly. ‘You might well be astonished at the turnaround. Remember the people around you are the greatest asset you have.’
He didn’t think it appropriate to bring it up, but he remembered all too clearly overhearing the brusque, almost dismissive way she’d spoken to her culture editor on the phone that day while he was at the barber’s a while back and knew how very little it would take on her part to tone it down a notch. Be less attritional, not be quite so demanding on all around her.
And she could do it, he knew she could. There was a soft, caring heart in there, just waiting to get out; he could see it, even if no one else could. She nodded gratefully as their starter arrived and Jake sensed she wanted to get off the subject, so, ever the gentleman, he obliged.
‘Anyway, this isn’t a night to talk about work’ he reminded her. ‘You know what I’d love to hear about instead?’
What?’ she smiled.
‘I’d love you to tell me all about your family instead.’
And for once, miraculously, she didn’t clam up.
‘Well, not much to tell you really. I told you my sister’s in town at the moment …’ she broke off though, not saying why, or for how long.
‘What does she do?’ Jake asked her innocently.
But Eloise neatly evaded the question and instead, started telling him a bit about her mother who lived in Marbella.
‘And every time I see her, which isn’t nearly often enough, I swear to God, the woman is blonder, more suntanned and even more glam than the time before. Don’t get me wrong, life in the sun suits her down to a T, but … I just wish I could make more time in my life for her.’
‘You must miss her.’
‘Course I do.’
‘So, then do something about it! Come on, you must have years of stored-up holidays due to you from work, so instead of just wondering about her, take time off and go and see her. Hop on a flight with that sister of yours and just go. You’ve only the one mammy in this world.’
But all she did was roll her eyes heavenwards.
‘Jake,’ she drily reminded him, ‘need I point out that holidays are for retired people and not for the likes of me?’
‘One day you’ll change your mind,’ he told her firmly. ‘One day you’ll have all the quality time you want to travel and see people you care about and – perish the thought – actually start to enjoy your life for a change.’
She looked wistfully out the window at that, as though miles away, that heart-shaped look she got in her black eyes whenever she was thinking about something, or someone, else.
She was holding something back on him, and something important too; Jake would have staked his life on it.
Another guy, maybe? Someone from her past who’d broken her heart to shards? No, somehow he didn’t think so. It just didn’t ring true for her. Eloise wasn’t the ‘crawl under a duvet with a large jar of Nutella and a bottle of Chardonnay to drown your troubles’ kind of gal.
So what, he found himself dying to know, was she thinking right now? What was suddenly making her come over all wistful and far-away?
Jake would have been very surprised, if he’d only had the guts to ask. Because as it happened, she was thinking about him. About how long it was since she’d been taken out, wined and dined, treated like a proper lady. All day long, she was surrounded by upper-class college graduates, all from impeccable backgrounds, with degrees and masters hanging out of their earlobes and they were nothing but rude, bitchy, bullying and on several occasions per day, downright vicious behind her back. And yet here she was, sitting across a table from a convicted criminal from the roughest part of the city, a man who never behaved like anything other than a perfect gentleman towards her.
Could he even see how moved she’d been at the beautiful flowers he’d given her? Ridiculously expensive, she knew, and he could ill afford it, but somehow he felt she was worth it. Jake, she thought, taking another sip of wine, was lovely. That was the only word to describe him. Just lovely.
Then her phone rang and of course it was the Post. Who else?
‘Let it go to voicemail,’ he told her sternly. ‘For God’s sake, just give yourself an hour off to eat and then get back to whoever it is. You’re surely allowed have a meal break? Jeez, even in prison we get those.’
She looked up at him, thought for a second as though weighing it up, then gave him a happy grin, clicked her phone off and began to eat hungrily.
Chapter Nine
Good news. Lily, thanks be to God, Allah, Buddha, Santa – anyone up there who listened to me – has ended her obsession with going up to total strangers in parks and on buses and asking them if they’re her dad. Course the odd time she’ll still crawl into my bed early in the morning for a cuddle and a little chat, then completely out of left field, in her early morning croaky voice she’ll ask me, ‘have you found my daddy yet, Mama? You’ll find him weally soon, won’t you?’
And
