Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [78]
Like a sleepwalker, Katherine took off her coat. Maybe he’d stayed with one of the lads, she told herself. It didn’t have to be Angie, small and skinny though she was.
As she switched on her computer, she had a powerful, unexpected flash of dislike for her desk. What was wrong with it? Irritably, she looked at it, trying to identify what was lacking. Then she realized: Joe wasn’t sitting on it.
All morning, as she pretended to busy herself with spreadsheets, Katherine perfected the art of looking without seeming to, discreetly checking for any signs of rapport between Joe and Angie. Neither of them approached the other but, as Katherine well knew, that meant nothing. Often when people slept with each other they ignored each other the next time they met. In fact, the more they ignored each other the more likely it was that they’d had sex.
Both Joe and Angie were at their desks, busily keying stuff into their computers, but Katherine found no comfort in this – they were probably sending each other erotic e-mails.
Katherine noticed something else disquieting. If you took away Joe Roth’s boyish, puppy-like friendliness, what were you left with? A grim, sexy man, that’s what. Rough, stubbly and in yesterday’s clothes, Katherine had never seen him looking so good.
She kept half an ear on the office banter, mostly to hear if they called Angie a name other than Angie. Something vulgar, which would mean that someone had slept with her. But nothing doing. Just a running commentary on how sick and hungover they all felt. How they were never going to drink again. How they couldn’t remember a thing past ten o’clock. How Darren had puked in a doorway. How they’d been asked to leave Burger King.
She was back to feeling bleak and weird, never in the heart of life, always hovering on the edges.
‘Excuse me, Icequeen.’ Katherine’s head shot up to find Angie standing in front of her. For a brief mad second she thought Angie was there to tell her that she hadn’t slept with Joe Roth. But just a moment…
‘What did you call me?’
‘Icequeen,’ Angie said, nicely.
At Katherine’s expression, Angie faltered. ‘Isn’t that your name?’ She was now confused. ‘But that’s what everyone calls you. I thought it was Irish. I’ve a cousin called Quiveen…’
‘My name is Katherine, and your colleagues and mine call me the Ice Queen because I happen to respect myself enough not to sleep with people I work with,’ Katherine snapped.
‘Oh, fu –’ Angie looked mortally embarrassed – and slightly ashamed. Ashamed because she hadn’t respected herself enough not to sleep with a person she worked with?
‘Now I understand – the Ice Queen. I’m sorry! I just wanted to give you my tax-free allowance for the payroll.’ She flung her tax code on the table. ‘So that I won’t be put on emergency tax.’ Then she legged it.
Katherine looked at the piece of paper in front of her. It would be so easy to make a mistake and put Angie on one of the most vicious tax codes in existence, so that her net take-home pay would be a negative figure of several thousand. Of course, it would have to be fixed the following month, but wouldn’t it be worth it just to see the look on her face?
I’m a professional, she reminded herself, and the madness stopped. It had been a lovely fantasy, but that’s all it was. With an inaudible sigh she started work again. She’d be OK. It might take a few days for it all to calm down, but she’d be OK.
28
Tara had a good week. Well, she had an abstemious week. Only a couple of slips. Fish and chips for lunch on Wednesday and Friday afternoon buns. (Who was she to fly in the face of tradition?) But the great thing was that her breaking out had been contained. It hadn’t unleashed an unstoppable tide of gluttony. Not only that but she’d managed to knit twenty-eight rows of Thomas’s jumper and get to the gym four times.
Even though there was no obvious reduction in her size, Thomas seemed pleased with her for trying so hard and he’d been uncommonly affectionate.
On Wednesday night he’d said, ‘C’mere, you old baggage,’ and held her hand as they watched