‘Amy?’ boomed a voice from the office beside the boardroom. ‘A word.’ My next awkwardness was well over six foot tall and looming in the doorway there. Adrian Espley was an imposing man, with a near-military-grade haircut and the build of a person who had enjoyed rugby in a long forgotten youth, before the Guinness had taken over.
Phil’s smile never faltered. Be cool, she mouthed, as I waddled past her. There wasn’t enough of a distance to deploy the power-walk, damn it.
‘Close the door behind you,’ Adrian instructed, holding a huge hand out towards the chair beside me. I did as he asked, pulling on the hem of my fitted waistcoat before sitting down in the hot seat. ‘I’m not going to dance around, Amy. I’m not happy about this … situation.’
My face suddenly felt awkward and rubbery.
‘I don’t want to know who’s done what, all I give a toss about is will it cause me any problems?’ My hands felt clammy in my lap.
Be cool. ‘Of course not, Adrian.’ That was what he wanted to hear, after all. Adrian cleared his throat, a sound I’d come to recognise as his acceptance of a satisfactory outcome.
‘Excellent. Right, leave what you’re on and get Phil to run you through the Bywater file. New client, just bought a nice place out near Briddleton. Got it for a song, too – the vendors ran out of money before they had to sell up. Managed a nice job on the conversion, very nice, but it’s basically a sexy shell, nothing going on inside.’ I thought of the comparisons I could draw. ‘He’s got a fairly healthy budget and the mill would look fantastic in our residential portfolio. I want you to win us this contract, Amy. Get your teeth into it.’
Good. Work was good. I could feel myself relaxing. ‘Where are we at with it?’
‘He’s emailed over a few photos, and a set of AutoCAD plans that the previous architects drew up. He’s bringing everything else he’s got into the office this morning.’ Yes. This was what I needed. ‘Right then, I think we’re done here. Phil’ll get you up to speed.’
And like that, equilibrium resumed in Adrian’s company.
Phil was getting one of the architects up to speed on her drawings when I made it out of Adrian’s office. I began picking over the papers on her desk. ‘Hannah? Have you seen anything for a Mr Bywater? There should be a file?’
Hannah looked sheepishly over her shoulder at me. I sighed quietly. ‘Hannah, this morning’s awkward enough. I know how the jungle drums work around here, don’t worry about it, okay?’ Hannah nodded as I took a cursory glance back down the studio.
‘She’s not in today,’ Hannah whispered. ‘I heard Dana telling Marcy that Sadie phoned in sick again.’
A slap of papers hit the end of the desk. ‘Rohan Bywater. Has Adrian talked you through it, or was he too busy checking the balance of his applecart?’ Phil stood leaning with one hand flat on the desk, the other on her hip. ‘He’s due in this morning, you want me to do the meet-and-greet or—’
‘No, I’ve got it.’
Phil straightened up. ‘Is anyone booked into the boardroom? I could talk you through the file, more room to spread out.’
Adrian thudded from his office, shoving balled fists through the sleeves of his jacket. ‘Site meeting. I’m on the mobile,’ he declared, clumping out of the studio.
‘I’ll get the coffees,’ Phil said, following Adrian out as far as the kitchen. Phil had suggested the boardroom for privacy, not space. I gathered the file and walked through into the boardroom, fighting off the images of James’s naked groin in each of the chairs there. To distract myself, I laid out the photos of the Bywater property on the conference table. I still had my snout in the paperwork when the boardroom door clicked closed.
‘I’ve been leaving you messages,’ he said, placing the drinks he’d hijacked from Phil down on the long glass table. ‘I’ve been going crazy, Amy. Please, let me talk.’
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Funnily enough, that was what I’d thought the last time I’d seen him.
‘I can’t say anything in my defence, I know, but … it was a stupid mistake. A stupid, one-off mistake.’
‘One-off?’ I croaked. ‘You expect me to believe that?’ I choked on my words, an instant trembling firing up in my chest. Already, the conversation wasn’t going as I’d imagined it.
‘It was never meant to happen, I wish it never had. Please believe me, Amy, I love you. I need to make this right with you. Mum’s so excited about flying in—’
‘Forget the party, James!’ I yelped.
His expression changed. The blue of his eyes growing cooler. ‘So what? That’s it now? Just like that? You’re going to throw everything away? Everything, Amy?’
My head began to thump. Me throw it away? ‘You slept with another woman! You watched me go out, like a big idiot, celebrating our plans, and you – what? Bumped into her here? It was you she was on the phone to, wasn’t it?’ The thumping was intensifying.
James’s voice lowered. ‘I only agreed to meet her because she was going to tell you. She was going to do as much damage as she could. I couldn’t let that happen.’ I’d played this conversation through my head all week. Pointless preparation. ‘I swear, it had only been one time … I told her it was a mistake, and then—’
‘And then what?’ I snapped. ‘You met her to call it all off?’
‘Yes!’ James exclaimed, circumnavigating the table.
‘And what? You accidentally fell into her?’
James darted towards me. I stepped back to accommodate it. ‘Amy, shit! I know what I’ve done is as bad as it gets, but please! Let me fix this, we can get over this if you just … let us. Please, don’t throw away our life together. We’re so close to getting what we want, Amy.’
‘What we want, or what I want, James?’ The tingling was there again, threatening to render me useless and emotional. He stepped closer.
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want our life, Amy. You know that.’
I could feel the burn, reaching the edges of my eyes. ‘But you betrayed me, James. You slept with her, and now everything’s falling apart. They’ll never give us our child now—’
‘Amy, Anna doesn’t need to know about this. Not unless you tell her. I don’t want to tell her, I want to make it right.’
Don’t cry here. Do not cry here, I warned myself. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew that James was playing to my weak spot, but knowing it didn’t make the words any less seductive. I grabbed onto the only thing that would keep me steady. The ugly truth.
‘How did it start?’ I asked, taking a sharp breath. He tried to take my hand but I hadn’t offered it. ‘Where?’
‘Amy, please. We don’t need to do this.’
‘When, and where, James? Has she been in my house?’
Outside, the studio had grown very quiet. A phone rang out, the sound rising above the diminishing volume of the voices around it. He moved over to the glass wall and closed the blinds. I remained where I stood, tense and unyielding.
He pushed both hands through his hair. His was that shade of blond that didn’t quite make it through childhood without acquiring a duller, muddier undertone. ‘Shit, Amy,’ he huffed, looking to his feet. He knew I’d hear it eventually. He approached the table again and idly moved one of the mill photos around under his finger.
‘She started coming on to me a while ago. I laughed it off, ignored her. And then she turned up at the gym.’
‘The gym?’