The Most Difficult Thing. Charlotte Philby

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ would want to go into the details of his being fired with a relative stranger, yet I could not help feeling disappointed at his lack of confidence.

      Sighing gently, he placed a half-eaten slice of Margherita back on the box, taking a swig of his drink. ‘Well, if you really want to know, I’ve been sacked.’

      He continued chewing, his eyes locking on mine, and I held my body straight.

      ‘Are you serious?’

      ‘Deadly.’

      ‘When?’

      A half-smile appeared on his face.

      ‘The day before I met you guys, believe it or not. That’s why I was … You know, shit-faced, on my own … That’s not my usual style, I’ll have you know. I had come in for a meeting with the editor, trying to get my job back, but what can I say, the man’s a prick. Still, he ran my story the same day though, didn’t he? Not too moral to miss out on a final scoop …’

      He shrugged again, taking another bite of pizza.

      ‘What happened?’

      He paused then, as if he had changed his mind. For an alarming moment I thought he was going to stand, but he simply lifted an arm to his cheek for a moment before carrying on.

      ‘That story, the one about the undercover charity investigation? One of the protestors I embedded myself with is claiming we were in a relationship.’

      There was an authority to his delivery that dampened the shock.

      ‘OK.’

      ‘Well, it might have been, except it turns out she was fifteen at the time.’

      His words hung in the air.

      ‘The time of what?’

      ‘There’s a photo, she says it shows us “being intimate”. I mean, Jesus, it’s nothing. I’ve seen it, we’re just talking. But she says it was more than that. Her parents, they threatened the paper, said if I wasn’t disciplined, they’d take the case to court. It would be my word against theirs, but apparently that doesn’t mean anything. With things the way they are in the industry, there isn’t the kind of cash needed to defend a law case. And, like I said, the editor’s an arse. He had been looking for an excuse to get rid of me …’

      Harry’s face lifted suddenly, turning, his eyes narrowing. ‘Shit, I don’t know why I told you that. I’m sorry. It’s intense, I know. I just … Something about you, I just felt I could … I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put that on you, we hardly know each other.’

      His face was parallel with mine, something passing between us.

      ‘It’s bullshit, you should know that. I mean, Jesus …’

      I nodded, my hand instinctively moving towards his, ‘I do.’

      As he opened his mouth to speak again, a key jangled loudly against the front door. Lurching back, his legs swung forward off the sofa as Meg’s face appeared.

      There was a moment of doubt and then she spoke, her features recomposing themselves.

      ‘Hi!’ Her eyes briefly flicked between the two of us, and then she smiled. She did not ask aloud what Harry was doing there. At the time I didn’t either.

      Harry had suggested it, all of us meeting up again the following week. We had been saying an awkward goodbye that evening in the flat, he, Meg and me. By then, my hangover had been usurped by an urgent fizzing in my gut.

      ‘I’ll be working near here in the afternoon if you fancy a drink afterwards?’ Harry had looked at me and then, out of politeness, at Meg.

      ‘Bring your friend David too if he’s around …’

      If he spotted my disappointment at the mass invite, he didn’t show it.

      David was already there when I arrived at the pub, as planned, the following Friday. It was the first time I had seen him since the incident at the club and he was holding his hands under the table when I arrived. Standing up, he presented me with a large, purple, gold-embossed bag, the plush cardboard soft and soothing as it swept against my fingers.

      ‘I just wanted to apologise for what happened. I—’

      ‘David, what …’

      His face fixed on mine as I tugged at the ribbon that had been pulled tight in a perfect bow, protecting whatever was inside, unable to keep the smile from lifting the corners of my mouth.

      The material was a light grey wool, which hung just above my knees, with a soft shearling lining. From the label, it must have cost more than the rest of my wardrobe combined.

      ‘It’s – well, it’s perfect, but …’ He must have seen the flicker of uncertainty in my face as he stood, casually, wary of applying too much pressure.

      ‘It’s no big deal. If it’s not right the receipt’s in the bag. I just thought … Meg’s taking forever, shall we order? I’m starving.’

      It was then that I looked up and noticed Harry and Meg, already seated at the bar on the other side of the pub, Meg facing away from us. At that moment, Harry looked up and our eyes met, his gaze followed a second later by Meg. I could have sworn it was disappointment I saw in her eyes, but then her face lifted into a smile and she jumped off the stool, striding towards us, her eyebrows rising as if to say, ‘Where the hell have you been?’

       CHAPTER 7

       Anna

      The air was heavy and damp that winter, the perfect backdrop to the months of boozy nights that followed in pubs across London, the four of us drinking until the small hours before falling away to our respective beds. But then, as time passed, the initial thrill of our weekly group gatherings was worn away by erratic working hours and office parties, until one night it was just Harry and me sitting across from each other at a table in the corner of the Crown and Goose, where an irate chef passed out plates of food through a minuscule hatch.

      We shared one bottle of wine, and then another, our fingers resting side by side on the round wooden table, oblivious to the comings and goings of the other drinkers as they passed back and forth on their way to the bathroom, the urgent ring of the kitchen bell clattering above our heads.

      By the time we rose to leave, I was surprised to find the bar swollen with people. Stepping out into the street, the twinkling fairy lights entwined along the shop fronts, Harry stopped and pushed me gently back against the wall of the pub. Holding me there for a moment, my neck in his hand, he paused before kissing me, his lips soft but persuasive.

      And that was it, our fate sealed. I had waited for that confirmation of what I had felt for months, and when it came it was as if it had never not been there.

      Meg had gone back to Newcastle for a couple of weeks, so the flat was ours alone, that first night together. I woke the following morning to a feeling of utter contentment, СКАЧАТЬ