Then I hear Victoria. “Oh wow, you have a real tan!”
Then I see sparkling Sal, sparkling again. “Ava, you look so well.”
Then I clock my desk and stop dead in my tracks. Balloons…everywhere. With babies on them. There’s a pack of nappies on my desk, too, and a how-to guide on becoming a mother. But the worse thing of all, and I pick them up to check I’m seeing right, are the gigantic maternity jeans laying across the back of my chair, or covering my chair completely, more to the point. As if my morning wasn’t depressing enough, with my dress not fitting and the lack of a Jesse wake-up call, I’ve now been reminded that I’m going to look like a whale. He really has told everyone. I’m going to kill him.
“I knew it!” Tom scurries over to my desk. “I knew you were pregnant. But twins! Oh wow, this is so exciting! Will you name one after me?”
I discard the maternity wear and flop into my chair. I’ve been here two minutes and I’ve already had enough. Double babies means double excitement, as well as double weight gain and double anxiety. “No, Tom.”
He gasps dramatically. “What’s wrong with Tom?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “I just won’t be naming any of my babies it.” He snorts his disgust and stomps off, without even wishing me congratulations.
“Congratulations, Ava.” Sally bends down and hugs me. I knew I could rely on Sal. “Coffee?”
“Please. Three sugars.” I return her hug, getting Sal’s great tits thrust in my face from my seated position. “How are you, Sal?”
“Amazing!” she gushes, dancing off to the kitchen. I quickly conclude that Sal’s love life must be back on track.
“Where’s Patrick?” I ask no one in particular because there’s no one standing at my baby-infested desk anymore. Tom is sulking across the office, obviously ignoring me, and Victoria is daydreaming, staring at me. “Hello.” I wave my hand at her.
“Oh, sorry! I was just wondering what shade you would call that.”
“What?”
“Your tan. I’d say deep bronze.” She scribbles something down, and I know it says deep bronze. “So, babies now?”
I take instant defense to her tone. “Yes.” My short, snappy answer pulls her head quickly from her writing pad and the long blond locks get flicked over her shoulder as she smiles. If it’s fake, then she’s doing a great job. “Congratulations, Ava.”
“Thank you.” I smile, doing a terrible job. “And thanks for all this.” I gesture to the balloons wafting around my head.
“Oh, that was Tom.” She returns to her computer.
“Thanks, Tom!” I throw a pencil across the office, catching him a treat on the side of his head, knocking his glasses off kilter. He gasps in shock. “Sorry!” I press my lips together to suppress my laugh.
“Workplace bullying!” he squawks, and I lose the battle to keep quiet. I start jerking in my chair as Sally places my coffee in front of me on a frown, and then turns to see what I’m laughing at. She starts chuckling, too.
“Where’s Patrick, Sal?” I ask, having not gotten any answer from Victoria.
“He’ll be in at noon,” she answers. “He’s not been around much.”
“No?”
She shakes her head, but says no more and returns to the pile of invoices at the filing cabinet.
“Ava,” Tom begins, straightening out his fashion specs. “You need to call that Ruth. She hounded the office phone yesterday.”
My laughing abates fast. “What did she say?” I ask casually, riffling through my bag for my phone when it occurs to me that I’ve still not turned it on. It’s been off since Thursday morning when Jesse impounded it.
“Not much.” He straightens his aqua tie. “Everything’s fine with the works. I kept your appointment with her on Thursday, but she wasn’t impressed to see me.”
I shrink into my chair on a wince as my phone comes to life in my hand and immediately starts alerting me of dozens of missed calls, texts, and e-mails. I filter through, responding to Kate’s Welcome home! text, and my mum’s Call me when you’re settled text, before counting the missed calls from Ruth. There are eleven, but despite the bombardment of calls from her, it’s the two missed calls from Mikael that start my heart pumping fast. I can’t avoid this any longer and for the first time, I sit and think hard about who could be responsible for drugging me and trying to run me off the road. And then there are the dead flowers. They were from a woman; I don’t doubt it for a moment, which leads me to the same conclusion: Mikael couldn’t possibly be responsible. He’s a businessman, and a respected one at that. But what about the CCTV footage from the awful night when my drink was spiked? It was Mikael, I’m certain. Maybe the incidents aren’t connected at all. My money is on Coral, the ex-lover, or perhaps Sarah. The flowers came after Sarah’s apology, though. So did the car chase. Is she playing games still? I drop my phone to the desk. My brain aches.