Before We Met(42)

‘Sorry for accosting you like this. I wondered if I could have a quick word?’

‘Of course. Is this about Saturday morning? I’m so, so sorry. I was beating myself up about it all weekend. And thank you so much again for—’

‘Honestly, it’s fine, forgotten about.’ Hannah waved her hand, wiping the slate. For a moment, she hesitated. Asking would mean dragging Mark’s personal life into the office and embarrassing him in front of a member of his staff. Was Neesha discreet? Could she be trusted not to relate this episode to all and sundry upstairs? And what would she think of Hannah? That she was mad, probably, out of control. Suddenly, though, with a burst of liberation, Hannah realised she no longer cared. She didn’t care about Neesha’s opinion of her; didn’t care what she thought of Mark. And so what if he was embarrassed? He should have thought of that before he started lying. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘this is really awkward, but I need to know . . . Has anything been going on lately? With Mark.’

‘Going on?’ Confusion flickered across Neesha’s face, then indignation. She thought she was implying some kind of involvement between them, Hannah realised.

‘No, God, not with you,’ she said quickly. ‘I mean, have you noticed anything unusual with him? Has anything changed? Has he seemed particularly stressed or . . .’

Neesha looked at her for a moment, brow furrowed, then shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. We’ve been busy, as you know. Business has really started picking up again and . . .’

‘Is everything all right on that side of things? He’s not involved in any sort of dispute?’

‘Dispute? What do you mean?’

‘There’s no . . . bad blood with anyone? No trouble with payments? Or legal action?’

‘No, nothing like that, and I think I’d know. Everything’s fine. As I say, we’re busy but that’s the only cause of stress I’m aware of. Of course, I’m just his assistant, I’m not party to any of the—’

‘But you answer his calls? Screen them?’

‘Of course.’

‘Has anyone new started calling? Anyone you don’t think is ringing on DataPro business?’

Neesha stood up straighter and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. ‘Mrs Reilly – Hannah – if you’re worried about something, perhaps you should talk to Mark about it. I’m really not in a position to—’

‘I would talk to him,’ Hannah said wildly, ‘if I had a telephone number I could actually reach him on.’ Neesha looked startled but she carried on regardless. ‘When we spoke on Saturday, you told me he’d said he was taking me to Rome. Maybe he still is and you really have got your wires crossed, but you’re not the only one – David was under that impression, too. I’d like to talk to Mark, find out what’s going on, but conveniently or inconveniently, depending on your point of view, he’s lost his phone.’

There were two or three seconds of stunned silence that were interrupted by more quick footsteps on the path. Neesha waited until the new arrival had stepped through the doorway. ‘I don’t know what I can . . .’

Hannah held eye contact, not letting her look away. ‘Imagine the boot’s on the other foot,’ she said. ‘Imagine this is your husband we’re talking about, that it’s Steven and you’re asking me. How would you feel, Neesha? How would you feel?’

Neesha glanced at the revolving doors as if she was thinking of making a run for it. When she looked back again, her expression had hardened. ‘You shouldn’t do this,’ she said. ‘It’s not fair. You can’t put me in this kind of position.’

Hannah felt a momentary sense of remorse but not enough to deflect her. ‘I’m not trying to put you in any position,’ she said. ‘I’m asking – begging – you to help me. Please.’

‘Look, I can’t lose my job,’ Neesha blurted. ‘I can’t . . . I just can’t. Steven’s been made redundant, he’s been out of work for months. We need my salary.’

So there was something. Hannah’s heart gave a heavy thump.

‘Neesha,’ she said, ‘whatever you tell me stays between us. I promise – I absolutely promise. You have my word. I’ve said nothing about the Rome thing and I wouldn’t, and whatever this is, however bad it is, I promise you Mark will never, ever know you told me.’

‘If I lose my job . . .’

‘You won’t.’ Hannah tried to sound decisive, final.

Neesha gave a short, sharp out-breath. For several seconds she said nothing and the silence of the morning rushed in around them. ‘There is someone who calls,’ she said at last.