She inspects the sandwich again, eyeing up the next place for a bite, but I'm not prepared to wait.
'Just leave the bloody sandwich,' I grumble. 'Get on with your story.'
'Okay, so all the girls were after him, including me. Hardly anybody had any luck.'
You did though, my brain fires out.
'He had a couple of girlfriends. Nothing major. He was more focussed on his studies than anything else. He worked hard and he was incredibly bright, and still very sweet. I think that was what was so charming about him.'
'So what changed?'
She places the half-eaten sandwich back down onto the place. Suddenly, she's serious.
'When he was eighteen, he went up to Cambridge. Clive got in at the same time. They shared a flat. Dan was doing really well until the Fosters were killed. That was in his third year. He went off the rails, drank too much, did no work. Eventually, he was thrown out.'
'Thrown out?'
'Oh, he didn't tell you that?' An eyebrow curves upwards. 'He raided his bank account and disappeared off the face of the Earth. We didn't see him for two years. Nobody knew where he was and he's never talked about it. All I know is that when he came back he was a totally different man: self-controlled, shut off from emotion, pretty much the man you met. He took over at the company, learned the ropes and transformed it into a huge success. And in the meantime, he had no desire for relationships, no wish to connect with anyone.' She pauses, fixing me with her hazel eyes, waiting for the right moment to drop her bomb. 'Until he met you.'
She gives a broad smile and I'm floored.
'But why me?'
'There's a saying, isn't there? You don't choose love; love chooses you.' She winks and then returns to the serious face. 'He's lived behind a mask for years, and you've pulled it back. He's changing into himself again, and I like that. Long may it continue.'
While she draws in a breath and lets it go, I drum my fingers on the table. The ache is back, and it's weakening my resolve. Lily Babbage has turned up on my doorstep, nicked my dinner and dangled a juicy piece of bait in front of me. And now, whether I like it or not, I seriously want to bite. Oh yes, Fortress Scotton is in deep trouble.
'I'm finished with him.' I whisper, my words nothing more than brittle shells, easily broken. 'I told you … '
She holds up a graceful hand.
'And I told you, appearances can be deceptive. Try to look beneath the surface, try to think about where he's coming from. Go and see him. Hear him out.' She pauses, dragging out the seconds for emphasis. 'And give him another chance.'
I stare at skinny Lily and she stares right back at me.
'And drop your own mask,' she adds. 'The one you're wearing right now. It's not good for you.' She rubs her hands together and glances at the remnants of my meal. 'Fish finger sandwiches and Pinot Grigio. I'll have to try that little combo at home.' She stands up, smooths down her outfit and rearranges the sunglasses on top of her head. 'I look forward to meeting again, Maya.' She picks up her handbag. 'And we will meet again because you're not over him at all. In fact, I think you need him.'
With that, she takes her skinny backside out of the kitchen. I listen out for the click of the front door before I pick up my glass and take another glug of wine. Her final words are still echoing round my head and I do my best to brush them away. In the history of jumping to conclusions, that little leap has to be a record breaker. The woman barely knows me. How dare she tell me how I'm feeling? On top of Lucy's pronouncement that I'm up to my eyeballs in self-deception, I've just about had enough. It's time to gather the forces, assess the damage and plan the way ahead.
I stare at my half-finished glass of wine, my thoughts slipping further into a muddle, the ache returning to my chest. And before I know it, I'm no longer focussed on the glass because, already half-forgotten, the dream reassembles itself in my mind. And now I'm thinking of thick branches, broad trunks and movements in the shadows … and the name I called.
Chapter Three
I don't know how long I spend staring at two half-eaten fish finger sandwiches. It could be five minutes. It could be an hour. Exhaustion seems to have washed right through me, wiping out everything in its path, including time, leaving nothing but a thick murk of confusion in its wake. I need more sleep. That'll sort me out. But before that, a little more wine. I've just about lifted the glass to my mouth when the doorbell rings again. This time, it can only be Clive and like Lily, he'll be batting for Team Dan. I should get up now and beat a hasty retreat to my bedroom, but they'll only catch me on the way. Listening to the thud of the door, the murmur of conversation and a lull that can only indicate a quick snog in the hallway, I grit my teeth and wait for the next onslaught. It's not long in coming.
'Mind if I sit with you for a minute?'
In an attempt to look cool and unruffled, I lean back, glance at Clive and wave towards the empty chair. 'Why not?'
'Lucy's changing her outfit … doing her make-up … all that stuff.' He circles a finger around his face, as if to indicate where 'all that stuff' should go, and takes a seat. 'How are you doing?' he asks briskly.
'Fine.'
'Seriously?'
'Seriously. I'm eating fish finger sandwiches and drinking cheap wine. What's not fine about that?'
He half-smiles, half-frowns, and then the next attack begins.
'Look … '
I cut it short. 'Don't bother. Lucy's already had a go and Lily Stupid Surname's tried her best. I'm not changing my mind.'
Clive's eyebrows seem to wiggle, and then his lips twitch: a sure fire sign of guilt.
'Fair enough,' he mutters.
'And that's the end of it,' I mutter back, riled by the fact that the world and its dog seem determined to break down my defences today. It's nothing less than a bombardment. But is it an organised manoeuvre? And is Dan behind it all? Sensing a flutter between my legs and another in my stomach, I press my thighs firmly together. I wouldn't put it past him.
'This is him, isn't it?' I demand. 'He's sending you in one at a time.'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Dan. This is his plan of attack.'
'There is no plan of attack.' He sits back. 'Nobody's sent any of us. Whatever Lucy's said, that's her business. As for Lily Stupid Surname, well she was at Dan's earlier. She's worried about him. She asked me where you lived and I told her. I'm sorry if she put you out. Nobody asked her to come round here. And as for me, I'm just the idiot who's going out with your flatmate. I can't stop seeing Lucy just because you and Dan aren't together. And I'm sorry if it bothers you, but that's a fact you're going to have to deal with.'
Clamping his lips together, he widens his eyes, as if to say 'so there' … and I feel like a fool. I've been put firmly in my place by an accountant. Hardly knowing what to say next, I venture a quick 'sorry' and then set about staring at the fridge, the window, the toaster, anything to avoid making eye contact.
'I'm not going to harangue you about this.' He stands up and straightens his suit. 'You'll make up your own mind.'
Of course I will. In fact, I already have.
'Now, do you need Lucy's company tonight, or would you like me to take her off your hands?'
'Please take her off my hands,' I reply quickly. 'And the sooner, the better.' Because just like Marlene Dietrich, I want to be alone.
Right on cue, Lucy skitters into the kitchen, sporting another trademark flowery dress and a heavily made-up face.
'Did you bring the bag, Clivey?'
'Shit.' He scratches his forehead.
'What do you mean shit?'
'I forgot. Sorry. I left it on the counter in his kitchen.'
Plonking her hands on her hips, Lucy scowls at him.
'Clive, you need to go back and get it for her.'
'I haven't got time to go down to Lambeth and then come back up here. The traffic's appalling. I'll bring it over tomorrow.'
'She needs it today.' She turns to me. 'Maya, you need it today, don't you?'
'I can cope without it.'
'No, you can't. What about your pills?'
I wince. Does she really have to mention that in front of Clive?
'I've only got two more to take. Besides, I don't need them any more.'
'You might do.' She gives me a knowing look. 'Clive, she needs her pills. You don't want her up the duff, do you?'
Before I can hold it back, a full-blown shout erupts from my mouth. 'I don't bloody care about the bloody pill!' Swigging back another mouthful of wine, I decide that while it was certainly enjoyable, another full-blown shout just isn't the way ahead. Instead, I take the deepest breath possible and resolve to keep calm.
'Ah,' Lucy drawls. 'That's why you're being the bitch from hell.' She mouths the word 'period' at Clive. He blushes slightly in return. 'So, what about your mobile? You need your mobile.'
'I can wait for it.'
'No you can't.'
'Oh, just go and get on with your bloody life, Lucy.'
Refilling the wine glass, I look up just in time to see her mouth the word 'menstruation.' Clive blushes again.