She launches into a nervous chatter.
“When I was asked if I wanted a company apartment, I never in a million years thought I would be staying in this luxury. Every day I come in, I still can’t believe there is a doorman to open the door for me. I feel like I’m in a movie.”
“I can’t believe employees get to stay there for free.” She adds.
“They don’t,” I admit, trying for my gaze not to drop down to the V line in her dress. “The apartment’s my own personal one, not the company’s.”
She twirls her hair around her fingers, something I recognise as her nervous twitch.
“I… I never realised it was yours.” She stammers. “That makes sense why it’s so nice. I inconvenienced you. I would never have said yes if I realised that.”
“You could never inconvenience me, Charlie.” I frown, holding her gaze. I shrug. “Besides, Karl’s place is big enough for 10 people.” “How is Jackie?” The words tumble out of her mouth. I give her a double-take. “Did Karl tell you?” “Yes.” She says with a brittle smile.
“It wasn’t planned, obviously, but out of mistakes come good things. We are excited. It’ll be the first Walker baby in the family.”
She jolts backwards with such force I step towards her and grab her wrist.
“Are you ok?”
“She’s pregnant?” She chokes out.
“Yes. I thought you knew that.”
She bites her lip and looks to the floor. “I thought it was just sex.” “That’s generally how you make a baby.” I smile dryly.
“I have to go, Danny.” She tugs her wrist out of my grasp.
“Just a minute.” I raise my voice. “Are you dating that guy with the teeth?”
A flicker of a smile passes her face. “All the guys I date have teeth. I have some standards.”
“You know who I mean,” I growl. “Ken Doll.”
Damn, that was unprofessional. He’s a member of my staff, for christ’s sake.
“You mean Joe?” She asks, taken back. “No, Of course, I’m not dating Joe.”
Good. Then that son of a bitch better back off before I reassign him to a different department.
“But I am dating.” She adds, staring at my feet. “I’m really happy. Maybe I should stay in New York. Nothing is keeping me in London.”
My jaw clenches. “I guess not. Perhaps you should move to the New York office then. I’m sure the team could facilitate that.”
When she looked up, I thought I saw the start of tears pooling in her eyes. “Bye, Danny, take care
of yourself.”
I watch her walk away, and something inside me breaks into a tiny thousand pieces.
Charlie
If I thought I was in pain before, then I was kidding myself. Now I am drowning in pain.
I’ve never felt so low like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. Even Dad leaving us pales in comparison to this.
For the last seven days since I found out about the baby, I keep having this recurring nightmare where I’m in London, and Jackie and Danny are there with their kid. Then I wake up in a cold sweat, and for seconds I relax, realising it was a nightmare only to be jolted back into the crushing reality that it’s all true. Sometimes it starts as a happy dream; I’m the one pregnant with his baby, then the baby morphs into just a sack of air. A few times, I’ve woken myself up sobbing. Huge body-shaking sobs that keep coming in unstoppable waves.
During the day, it’s no better. I don’t let the tears fall, but the dark cloud follows me no matter what I do.
Joe and my designs are going from strength to strength. The project has moved into the alpha stage, and development teams are being selected to start working on the new software in the next few weeks. I have the choice of relocating to New York if I want to. I should be happy. Except the feeling of pleasure has been sucked out of everything. Now I’m just going through the motions of life.
I’ll never get to kiss him again. Or touch him again.
I’ll never get to call him mine.
I’ll never get to carry his baby.
It should have been me.
A yellow taxi cab pulls up outside the flat, and a tall agitated blond girl steps out with two suitcases.
I smile and bounce down the steps. “Julie.”
She does a low whistle. “Fuck me, girl, this is a nice building.”
“It is his; of course it is.” I pull her in for a massive hug. “I’ve missed you.”
“Ooh.” She grimaces. “He must have a guilty conscience if he’s putting you up here. Can we vandalise it when we leave?”
“No.” I roll my eyes, lugging a suitcase up the steps. What the hell does she have in here? “I still work in his company, for now, remember?”
“How was your flight?” I ask, pushing open the revolving door.
“You have a bellboy?” She says too loudly as Tom, our doorman, greets me.
“I don’t think bellboy is the right term.” I frown. “Isn’t that someone who does errands?” “I dunno.” She shrugs. “I thought bellboy was an American butler.” “Tom’s not a butler either, Julie.” I snort as we get in the lift.
“This place is so amazing.”
“You haven’t even seen the apartment yet.” I laugh.
“Apartment is it now, what’s wrong with flats?” she complains as we reach my floor.
I turn the key and push the door open.
“Holy crap.” She screeches, dumping her luggage in the middle of the floor and running circles around the open plan kitchen living room. “This place would cost a bomb to rent, do you know that?
Like thousands a month!”
She runs so fast towards the window I worry she’s going to burst through it. “Holy fucking shit, this view!”
“Yeah, it’s amazing.” I agree. “Except now it’s tainted because it reminds me of him.”
Her lips draw into a thin lip. “We need wine. Wine is your medicine.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried that… I’m at risk of becoming an addict.” I say, lifting a bottle of red from the wine rack. “All I do is drown myself in work and drink away my sorrows.”
“Everything I use in this apartment, every mod-con in this kitchen, the bed, the bath,” I laugh dryly. “I’m thinking about how Jackie will be using it after me when the three of them come to stay here to play happy families.”
“In my mind, there is a family of three sitting beside the fire here in matching Christmas jumpers with easy listening jazz in the background. He likes jazz. Then they return to their beautiful mansion overlooking the Thames, and occasionally they’ll vacation in the Shetlands.”
“You have their lives all figured out.” She stares at me, concerned. “Jesus Charlie, you need to stop torturing yourself.”
I hand her the glass of red and pour my own generous portion.
“It’s good to have you here.” I clink my glass with hers.
“‘I’m glad to be here,” she says. “We are so worried about you at home. Your messages… you just seem sad all the time.”