‘What?’
‘Get mine up.’ Bernice leaned over and took the mouse from me, making a couple of clicks until her own schedule displayed on my screen in another window. ‘Now, when’s he free?’
I pulled the email I’d printed off towards me and glanced between the two. Bernice had a space tomorrow that would fit in with Michael.
‘There you go. Problem solved.’
I hesitated.
‘What is it?’
I looked up at her. ‘I feel like I’m fobbing him off on you! I’ve just told you he’s a right royal pain and now I’m dumping him on you.’ For all my thoughts last night about pushing O’Farrell to Bernice, I’d never really intended to lumber her.
‘Do you really want to deal with him?’
‘Oh God, no!’
Bernice laughed.
‘Sorry. That was a bit too emphatic, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s all right. I don’t mind dealing with him. It’s only a short-term thing anyway, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. It needs to be done by Christmas so we’ll be shot of him then.’
‘It’s settled then. Do you want me to contact him?’
‘No. I told him I’d call. I’ll give him a ring now and advise him he’s booked in for twelve tomorrow.’
‘I can hardly wait,’ Bernice teased. ‘I’m totally intrigued now.’
‘I still feel bad.’
‘Don’t. I volunteered and you can’t change your morning appointment tomorrow. That’s your final one with Mrs Clarke. She’d be devastated to not finish up with you.’
Bernice was right. This particular client had come a long way, physically and emotionally during the process, and the truth was I’d be upset to have to miss it too.
‘Thanks Bernice. You’re a lifesaver. It may be for the best anyway. You’ll probably be able to bring out his better side. I’m pretty sure he has one. There was a tiny glimpse of it when he was on the phone to his sister, but it only appears for a few seconds at a time. With me, anyway. But you have that cutesy persona thing going on. It’ll be perfect.’
‘I can certainly try.’
‘And bonus points if you can avoid calling him an arsehole within a few minutes of meeting him.’
Bernice was looking at me, her carefully painted Cupid’s bow mouth forming a perfect ‘O’.
‘You did not.’
I cleared my throat. ‘Yep, I kind of did.’
Bernice continued staring.
‘Could you please stop looking at me like that. I feel bad enough already. I just thought I should fill you in because I wouldn’t put it past Mr O’Farrell to bring it up and I didn’t want you blindsided.’
‘But you’re always so…controlled with clients.’
‘As I say. Probably for the best that you’re doing it.’
‘Wow. I really can’t wait to meet him now. If he rattled your cage, he must be something.’
‘Oh, he’s something all right. And just so you have all the background info, he’d kept me waiting in the snow for nearly an hour before finally showing up, made absolutely no apology and just proceeded to tell me how much he didn’t want our services. My patience was worn pretty thin by then.’
‘Understandably. It’s no problem. I can handle him.’
‘Thanks Bernice. I really appreciate this. I really didn’t want my falling out with him to affect my friendship with Janey. So this is the best of both worlds – he gets help and I don’t upset my friend because I beat her brother to death with an egg whisk.’
‘Is it actually possible beat someone to death with an egg whisk?’
‘You haven’t met him. It’d certainly be worth a try.’
Bernice grinned.
‘I’ll call him now and put it in your diary for tomorrow. The ones after that, perhaps you can discuss with him, once you see how you’ve progressed after the first session? I’ve typed up the notes I took last night, so I’ll email them over to you.’
‘Great, thanks.’
I quickly sent her the email before I forgot, then dialled Michael’s number. After three rings it went to voicemail and his lilting voice told me he was unable to come to the phone and asked for a message to be left. So polite. So attractive. So unlike the owner of the voice.
‘Mr O’Farrell, it’s Kate Stone from Stone Organisation. Thank you for your email. Having looked at our schedule, there is a space tomorrow at twelve, which coincides with one of the times you sent me. In the circumstances, I’ve blocked that out and unless I hear differently, your first session will be at noon tomorrow. Thank you.’
I hung up and then quickly fired off a text to Janey telling her that we’d be starting on her brother’s house properly tomorrow so she could relax and that it was all in hand.
A moment later a reply pinged back.
Brilliant! Thanks so much for letting me know. Can’t thank you enough for fitting him in. I know you’re rammed. Big kiss xx
I smiled and texted back.
No problem. Happy to be able to help xx
I checked the clock and scooped up some files from my desk.
‘Right. Better scoot. You OK for this afternoon?’
Bernice looked up from her screen. ‘Yep. Kenny Jakes has emailed to see if we can fit in another session as his mother is coming down for the holidays and he wants it perfect. I had a spare couple of hours so I’m going to go to him before Mrs Calder.’
‘OK. Great. Call me if you need anything.’
‘Will do. Have fun!’
I waved and snagged my umbrella from the hook before stepping out onto the rainy London street.
***
I’d just got back from my last appointment with Mrs Clarke in Wimbledon and had my head down answering emails when Bernice came into the tiny office.
‘Hi,’ I said, distractedly. Then pulled my head up again. ‘Wait a minute. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Michael O’Farrell’s?’
‘I am. And I was. But he doesn’t want me there.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I got there and he opened the door. I get what you mean about the whole gorgeous thing now, by the way. Big, masculine, kind of rough around the edges, and, wow, those eyes – ’
‘Bernice?’
‘Oh. Yes. Sorry. Well, I said who I was, and what I was there for. He asked where you were, so I told him you had an appointment elsewhere this morning. Then he thanked me for coming, apologised that my time had been wasted and offered to pay for a cab to take me wherever I wanted to go. All terribly polite.’
‘That was it?’
‘Yep. Bit odd I have to say. He definitely knew I was coming. I heard you leave the message.’
I was doing my best to stay calm but after everything I’d said to him, after everything Janey had said to him, he was still pulling the same stunt! I searched for his details and stabbed the number into my phone. He answered on the second ring.
‘Michael O’Farrell.’ The languid,