she could cope with.
It would be difficult to face him every day, but she would manage. And she would find Lewis a replacement who wouldn’t give him any trouble, a nice, efficient, sensible, mature woman. Married, preferably. Happily married.
Poor Lewis hadn’t had much luck with his secretaries lately. First, an oversexed blonde trying to catch herself a meal-ticket for life, then an undersexed brunette trying to prove she could be a right raver when required.
The right raver felt anything but as she made her way on glass legs up the stairs of the plain red-brick building to her ancient and tiny second-floor flat. Her head was pounding and her stomach on the roll again. She just made it to the bathroom before being sick once more.
After her stomach was well and truly empty, she stripped and stood under the shower for ages, trying to wash the various smells from her body.
Feeling only marginally better but a lot cleaner, she finally emerged, dried herself, dragged on an oversized T-shirt then lay down on top of her bed. After half an hour she abandoned the idea of sleep in the claustrophobic and stuffy room, and rose to throw open the windows then make herself some black coffee. Pain tablets didn’t seem like a good idea on her heaving stomach, despite the throbbing in her temples. An ice-pack helped a little.
By seven, she’d managed a little Vegemite toast, washed down with some more strong black coffee. Afterwards, she tried to pack, but in the end abandoned the idea in favour of television. Watching an episode of Cracker made her feel marginally better, her messed-up life seeming quite normal compared to the twisted, tortured lives in that show.
It also took her mind off things. It was eleven by the time she turned off the television and faced sleep once more. She was lying there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, when she remembered her pill.
Jumping up, she raced into the bathroom. Good God, what if she’d gone to sleep and forgotten it entirely? The thought appalled her.
Olivia swallowed Friday’s pill and returned to bed where, once again, sleep eluded her. She began wondering what Lewis really thought of the way she’d acted. He’d made all the right noises afterwards, being a decent man. But he had to have lost respect for her. Perverse, since in her intoxicated state she’d thought respect was what she was looking for.
Well, she was going to pay for her folly, wasn’t she? She was going to have to leave a job she liked and a boss she admired. People did pay for their sins, didn’t they? You could do the right thing all your life, but make one mistake and your whole world could come crashing down. Not that her world hadn’t already come crashing down before today.
Sighing wearily, she closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind. Sleep did come, eventually, but it didn’t last. She woke shortly after two, sweating, and with stomach cramps. It seemed the consequences of the Christmas party hadn’t done with her yet. One of the prawns or oysters she’d eaten must have been bad.
Crawling from her bed, she struggled along to the toilet where she sat for what seemed like hours. Finally, she made it back into bed where she tossed and turned till her next visit to the bathroom. By morning, she was pale and exhausted. Nothing, however, she vowed staunchly, was going to stop her packing and getting on that train.
The telephone started ringing as she was heading for the door with her bags mid-morning. After a momentary hesitation, Olivia kept on walking, telling herself that she didn’t have the time to talk to anyone. The taxi was waiting for her downstairs.
If it was Nicholas, then he could go hang himself. If it was Lewis ... well, the sooner her boss realised she wasn’t his problem the better. She didn’t want his pity.
And that was all it was. Pity. His heart still belonged to his wife. Any fool could see that. What had happened in his office yesterday had been sex. Nothing more. Everyone knew men could enjoy sex without being emotionally involved.
As did drunken women, it seemed, whispered a snide little voice in her head.
The phone kept ringing all the while she was locking her flat door. What if it was Lewis, thinking he could have more of the same over the Christmas break? What if he hadn’t fully understood that hadn’t been the real Olivia making love to him yesterday? What if, underneath, he’d believed her when she’d said she’d always fancied him?
Oh, dear God...
Shuddering anew, Olivia hurried downstairs and into the waiting taxi.
CHAPTER FOUR
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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