Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [187]
Jack and Lisa looked at the four unsolicited applications for fashion editor and decided to interview all of them.
‘And if they’re pants, we’ll run an ad,’ Lisa said. ‘Can I ask you something? How do I find a solicitor?’
Jack thought for a moment. ‘We have a legal firm on retainer. Why don’t you go and see them? If they can’t do your, um, stuff, they’ll recommend someone who can.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And I’ll do whatever I can to help you,’ Jack promised.
Lisa eyed him suspiciously. There was no getting away from it. She liked him. He was continuing with the warm, supportive relationship he’d been offering since the day she’d cried in his office over not going to the shows. It wasn’t his fault she’d chosen to over-interpret it.
On Tuesday afternoon Ashling’s phone rang. She snatched it up. Be Marcus, she prayed. Be Marcus.
But her heart sank when she heard a woman’s voice. Her mother. ‘Ashling love, we were wondering how your launch went and I rang you at work. They said you were out. What’s wrong, are you sick?’
‘No.’
‘What then?’
‘I’m…’ Ashling hovered over the taboo word, then gave in, feeling both fear and relief. ‘I’m depressed.’
Monica knew immediately that this was not a simple case of ‘I’m depressed because I forgot to record Friends last night.’ Ashling had taken great care never, ever to use the word depression with regard to herself. This was serious. History repeating itself.
‘My boyfriend got off with Clodagh,’ Ashling explained weakly.
‘Clodagh Nugent?’ Monica sounded furious.
‘She’s been Clodagh Kelly for the past ten years. But anyway, it’s more than just that.’
Monica considered anxiously. ‘How bad are you?’
‘I’m in bed. It’s my fifth day. I have no immediate plans to leave.’
‘Eating?’
‘Nope.’
‘Washing?’
‘Nope.’
‘Suicidal thoughts?’
‘Not yet.’ Goody, she had that to look forward to.
‘I’ll get the train up tomorrow morning, love, and I’ll mind you for a while.’
Monica waited to be told to fuck off, as usual. But instead all she got was a weary, ‘Fine.’ Fear clutched its cold hand around her heart. Ashling must be very bad indeed.
‘Don’t worry, love, we’re going to get help for you. I won’t let you go through what I went through,’ Monica promised vehemently. ‘Nowadays things are different.’
‘Less of a stigma,’ Ashling said through unresponsive lips.
‘Better drugs,’ Monica retorted.
Joy and Ted were trying to tempt Ashling with a fresh consignment of chocolate and magazines on Tuesday evening when her doorbell rang. They all froze.
For the first time in days, Ashling’s listless face became illuminated. ‘It might be Marcus!’
‘I’ll go and tell him to fuck off.’ Joy was already moving to the door.
‘No!’ Ashling said fiercely. ‘No. I want to talk to him.’
Within seconds Joy was back. ‘It’s not Marcus…’ she hissed.
Ashling immediately eddied back into the mire.
‘It’s Divine Jack.’
This bizarre visit jolted Ashling a little from her torpor. What did he want? To sack her for missing work?
‘Wash yourself, for Christ’s sake!’ Joy urged. ‘You smell dodgy.’
‘I can’t,’ Ashling said heavily. So heavily that Joy knew she was wasting her time. As a compromise she insisted that Ashling put on a clean pair of pyjamas, comb her hair and brush her teeth. Then Joy considered two bottles of perfume. ‘Happy or Oui? Happy,’ she decided. ‘Let’s try the power of suggestion.’ She drenched Ashling in a haze of Happy then pushed her, as though she was a wind-up toy, in the direction of the living-room. ‘Off you go.’
Jack was on her blue sofa, his hands hanging between his knees. It was the weirdest sight. Depressed as she was, that thought burrowed through her stupor. He belonged to the world of work, yet here he was, making her flat look even smaller than it already was.
His dark suit, messy hair and askew tie gave him the aspect of a careworn and distracted man. She hovered in the doorway, watching him exchange thoughts with her maple laminate floor. Then he cocked his head to one side, saw her and