Page 41 of Little Miss Fortune

Relax, Fuko, it’s actually much worse than you think

The walk back to the office felt more like flying. I asked Toby how much money he ended up coughing up on the lager. His answer of ‘about £300’ shouldn’t have made me laugh as much as it did. My laughter was more apologetic than mocking, which Toby Lewis understood, and he joined in with the cackling.

‘Why did you write on your shirt?’ I ask, wiping tears from my eyes.

‘They didn’t have paper.’

‘Why did you not use your phone?’

‘So many things were happening. People were shouting numbers as I was on hold, plus we needed a visual representation of how far we’ve come.’

‘Why did you not use their board?’

‘Oh, and what, ruin their specials for today? That would’ve been bloody rude. I have made myself dislikeable to you. I don’t need the list of my enemies to increase.’

‘You’ve redeemed yourself to me.’ I step into the lift.

‘Good,’ he says back, quietly, as if he was surprised that it had escaped his thoughts. ‘Plus, the shirt can come with me. The board couldn’t.’

‘It’s a shame you got it dirty again after you scrubbed it clean.’

He stares at it for a second, then says, ‘Maybe it was meant to happen.’

When the doors of the lift open, Fawzia throws her arms around me and squeezes me tightly when we tell her the news. She and Toby have a very desynced air-handshake—when her arm is up, his is down; when he tries to catch up, she slows down. We are now an hour overtime and still need to contact all the vendors.

‘Khalas, you guys have done so much. Go home, please. We will do the rest. Fuko, I will tell Steven all about your performance. Thank you so much, again, you two. Enjoy your date, Toby.’ Fawzia waves us away.

Toby does need to get to the opera. I let him go ahead as I turn to the bathroom. The automatic air freshener puffs out a pathetic gust of lemon scent as I wash my hands. The mirror has some droplets on it. My own reflection turns sour right in front of me. My chest tightens in an ache with every breath.

I promised to not ignore him, to be mates again. But... maybe it’s best not to be around him for now. Not to go on any fun adventures, not to do any work tasks together. This isn’t something I should be feeling after a work outing with a colleague that’s dating my best mate. Maybe I am lonely. Maybe I should have called Malik.

His card is in my wallet; the paper is burning through the leather. I take it out and push the door that leads back to the office corridor. A body slams into me on exiting.

‘Fuko, are you all right?’ Toby’s hands lift me up for the third time today. His eyes drop to the card in my hand, and he adds quietly, ‘Ah, are you going to call?’

I don’t know what to say. It feels as if he’s caught me red-handed. It shouldn’t feel like this. The card slides back into my wallet. I shouldn’t be this weird around him. ‘Why are you back?’ I change the subject like a coward.

‘Forgot my shirt.’

‘Of course, they don’t let people into theatres without those, I’ve heard,’ I say and he chuckles. Don’t laugh, please. Just ignore me. Just leave me alone.

I call the lift, and we step into it. The numbers dance in a slow waltz as intrusive thoughts rush through my mind:

3. Should I call Malik?

2. What will Toby say to Sashka today?

1… Am I making a mistake?

The lights go off. The lift stops. The red emergency light switches on as if it’s punishment for my bad thought.

‘Um... Hello?’ Toby presses the button that informs the control room of our stuckness.

Nothing back, silence. I check my phone. No signal. I hold down the Emergency button, and a crackling voice pours in. ‘Sorry, guys, the lights are off everywhere. We are waiting for them to turn on. Cyberattack, it seems.’

The two of us grunt.

‘I wonder if Hugh’s mate from Richmond Council can sort this out,’ Toby asks.