Page 85 of The Work Husband

‘But not in the Harrods’ fitting room,’ Jasper observed coldly.

‘No, but’ – I leaned across the desk towards my boss, willing him not to doubt my sincerity – ‘Jamie borrowed my phone, one time when we were here in the office. The pictures of Zahra were on there. Jamie could easily have AirDropped them to his own phone and then shared them with the al-Badawis. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Jasper, and that’s the only possible explanation.’

Jasper’s eyes, cold as a snake’s, moved from me to Jamie and then back again. Just like a snake, I realised – deciding which of the two terrified mice it was going to devour.

Tell him, I thought. Tell him what Ava told you about Jamie. Surely even Jasper can’t overlook that?

But then I realised there was no evidence of that either. No way of bringing Jamie to justice without involving Ava herself. And even if Ava was willing to relive her trauma by describing what had happened to her to Jasper, or to the police, or to a judge and jury – which I very much doubted she would be – there was no way I could make that decision on her behalf.

If Jamie’s assault on her had been a trump card for me, I wasn’t going to be able to play it.

‘What we have here,’ Jasper was saying, ‘is a clear case of he-said-she-said. Part of me is minded to get rid of the pair of you. But I have a business to run. Still, there has been gross misconduct here, and I cannot let it lie. I have considered this matter carefully and concluded that one of you has to go. The other will be kept under strict supervision on a final warning while I recruit a new team member.’

‘It obviously has to be Georgia,’ Jamie said. ‘I’ve been here longer than she has. And I’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘That,’ Jasper said, ‘is for me to decide. And length of tenure is neither here nor there. Now, I have concluded that⁠—’

He stopped. A musical chime had sounded from Jamie’s pocket.

Don’t read your text message now, you dolt, I thought.

But when I looked at Jamie, I saw he was smiling.

‘Excuse me one second, Jasper,’ he said. ‘This might be important.’

Jamie pulled out his phone. Jasper looked like he might implode with rage.

As Jamie swiped his screen in a leisurely fashion, then tapped out a few words on the keyboard, his smile widened.

He had a plan, I realised. All along, he knew this was going to happen. I’d been fighting my corner for nothing – but that didn’t matter. Fighting had been the right thing to do, and the practice was going to come in handy.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket. ‘Apologies, Jasper. That was my mate Tuppers. We were at school together. He’s been going through a bit of a rough time because his old man kicked the bucket last week.’

‘While I’m certainly very sorry for your friend’s loss,’ Jasper said, ‘I fail to see what this could possibly have to do with⁠—’

‘You might know him as Peregrine Montague,’ Jamie carried on as if Jasper hadn’t spoken. ‘Perry to friends. Tuppers is a nickname because his old nanny used to bring baked goods to school for him in plastic boxes. Tupperware, you know – hence Tuppers? But of course he’s the Duke of Altminster now.’

I could see where this was going. Jasper’s face had softened into something like yearning.

‘Tuppers is going to have his work cut out for him now he’s inherited the estate – seventy thousand acres up in Cheshire,’ Jamie went on. ‘He’ll need all sorts organising, starting with the funeral, and a reliable concierge service like Devereaux Partners would make all the difference to him. But of course he’d want a contact with whom he already had a strong personal relationship. So if I’m not going to be around…’ He shrugged and gave a disarming smile.

I pushed back my chair and stood up. ‘Jasper,’ I said. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I know I did nothing wrong. I know Jamie was responsible for what happened. But I’m not going to sit through some sort of kangaroo court where the result gets decided on the basis of who went to school with whom. I’m handing in my resignation. At least, I will just as soon as I’ve got back to my desk and typed it out. I can work my notice, or I can pack my things and leave today.’

I knew what Jasper’s decision would be before he opened his mouth. Five minutes later, I was setting up an email autoreply to inform anyone who tried to get in touch with me that I was no longer working at Devereaux Partners and that they should contact Jamie Baldwin in my absence.

I found an empty photocopy paper box and packed my things into it. I didn’t have much – just a hairbrush, some odds and ends of cosmetics, a pair of high-heeled shoes and a photo of Sam and Milton, which I found I could barely look at. Then I prepared to shut my computer down for the last time.

But before I quit my email application, a new message landed in my inbox.

I’ll have to reply to this, I thought. I can’t leave without saying goodbye to her.

Dear Georgia,

I wanted to thank you so much again for last week. I know it was Okan’s idea, but it was the most magical day of my life, and it could never have happened without you. I am so happy I feel like I’ll never stop smiling.

Anyway, I’m reaching out to you because Okan and I had an idea. I’m going to be starting my PhD soon, and we’ll be planning our wedding, and then there’s all the social stuff we’ll have on with Okan’s dad’s charities and everything, plus we’ll be travelling between London, Istanbul and Riyadh. It’s a lot!

And I figured, what I really need is someone who can help me organise my life a bit. Someone who’s super efficient, who I trust completely and, above all, who’s fun to work with. And the obvious person was you.