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I paused the movie and stared at Eleanor. ‘What did you say?’ It wasn’t like me to be so confrontational, but the rosé was making me bold.
Eleanor shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t have a filter at the best of times, and usually, I let her tactless comments slide. But tonight, I wasn’t in the mood.
‘Nothing. Sorry. Let’s keep watching.’
Feeling exposed, I clicked play on the movie, got up, mumbled something about needing to use the loo, and locked myself in the bathroom. Leaning against the sink, I shut my eyes as the familiar burning pain crept over my heart—the pain of unrequited love.
Then came a soft knock at the door. ‘Anna? Can I come in?’
Isabel, always the soothing peacemaker.
I unlocked the door, and she came in, her round face sympathetic and her hazel eyes questioning.
‘Are you all right?’
I nodded.
‘How long have you been in love with your boss?’
I drew a breath. OK, so I was right. They all knew. Becca must’ve said something to Eleanor. They were on friendly terms and sometimes went to the pub after work, and Eleanor had obviously told the other two. God. I assumed that to them, it was a big joke and I was someone to feel sorry for. Like Harriet in Emma, I was a foolish, wretched rabbit.
I didn’t really want to talk about it, but Isabel sounded genuinely concerned, and I supposed she dealt with much worse in her line of work.
‘Two years, one month, and three days. Pretty much from the day he interviewed me. It was like a lightning bolt zinging from his forehead into mine. And then when he chose me for the job, it felt like it was meant to be.’
‘Oh, Anna.’
I sagged against the sink and hung my head. ‘I just thought love was meant to feel nicer than this. I didn’t count on the anguish and the sleepless nights,’ I whispered. Not to mention the hiding in bushes ...
Isabel came over and grabbed my hand. ‘You should leave and find somewhere else to work. It’s obviously torturing you.’
I shook my head. It was too late. I was too far gone on him.
‘This is her fault. She Who Must Not Be Named,’ said Isabel starchily.
She was talking about my twin sister, Beth, who currently lived in London with my ex-boyfriend.
‘I bet this is a manifestation of what she did.’
‘I don’t see how.’ Though my change of job did happen around the same time so it could be related.
I squeezed Isabel’s hand and turned away to run the cold tap, reluctant to talk about my sister.
Splashing some water on my hot face, I patted it dry with a hand towel. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be OK.’ After all, as my mother was so fond of reminding me growing up, I was the brainy one. I had the smarts to deal with this. However, like my boyfriend being nicked from underneath my nose, this was a situation not typically found on a school curriculum.
‘I know you will,’ said Isabel gently. ‘Meanwhile, we can try to manage the situation. Why don’t you come and do some art therapy on Friday night? I’m running a group session. It might help.’
‘OK, maybe.’
The way I was feeling lately, I was willing to try anything.
***
Later that night, after everyone had left, I downed a glass of milk and scoffed a plate of cheese and crackers. The hastily eaten fish pie was a while ago, and the evening’s angst had given me an appetite. After I’d come out of the bathroom, no one had said anything, but Lily made me a cup of camomile tea and patted me on the arm. Eleanor had also given me a tight hug and said that we should do lunch tomorrow. I wasn’t sure what Isabel had said to them, but I felt marginally better that at least my friends weren’t laughing at me behind my back as I feared.
I removed Mercy’s book from my handbag and grabbed a pad and pen in case I needed to take notes. Settling down on the couch, I turned on my antique lamp and prepared to work. I knew I’d toss and turn in bed, wondering what Jeremy was up to on his date, so I might as well take my mind off it by doing a few hours of research for his book until I was too tired to think. But working on his book made me think of him anyway!
Chapter 4
