Jane said, "Okay," and took a step back towards the door. "I look forward to it."
"Oh, me too." Keith's glance made another dart towards her legs. "Me too."
Once they were outside, Ruth said, "He'll probably suggest a trip to the pub. He
usually does."
"Usually?" Whilst Jane had been to enough parties to satisfy her appetite for the
social whirl, it had been a while since she'd been able to go to a pub. It would be a good way
to get to know people, she decided. After all, she knew hardly anyone in London.
"Yes, Keith organises a trip to the pub whenever a new...person...starts." For a
moment Ruth looked as though she was going to say something else, but she seemed to think
better of it. Instead she pointed out the small library.
Jane followed her, wondering what it was that had gone unsaid.
* * * *
By the end of the day, Jane was exhausted. She had been introduced, informed and
trained until she felt completely wrung out. She sank into her seat and checked her email.
There were messages from her parents and her friend Polly wishing her luck, but nothing else.
She relaxed a little. There was nothing even in the spam box from anyone from the press. It
looked like she was finally old news. She told herself she should stop worrying quite so
much.
Keith knocked on her office door and perched on the edge of her desk before she
could respond. "Since it's nearly home time, I wondered if you fancied coming for a drink."
He cast a quick glance across to Ruth. "You too Ruth, of course."
"I can't tonight, thanks." Ruth's smile didn't show in her eyes. "Prior plans."
"Shame." He turned his attention back to Jane. "So, how about it, Jane?"
All Jane really wanted to do was to go home and close her eyes. But she managed a
smile. "Sure."
"Meet you in the lobby in five minutes. I'll go rally the troops." He winked at her and
hurried off.
Ruth watched him go. "Have fun."
Again, Jane had the feeling there was something Ruth was stopping herself from
saying.
"You don't like him, do you?" She shut down her computer and picked up her
coat.
Ruth made a face. "Small personality clash, that's all." She avoided Jane's eye. "I'm
sure he's okay, really." She clearly didn't want to be drawn into discussing her antipathy
towards someone senior to her.
Jane decided to leave it. After all, she would have ample opportunity to get to know
more about Keith in the pub.
* * * *
Keith and a thin, tall, Scandinavian-looking man were waiting for her.
"This is Eric," said Keith. "He works in the regional office. He's come over to see
how the real office operates." He laughed at his own joke.
Eric rolled his eyes. He reached past Keith and shook Jane's hand, holding on to it so
that, for a moment, she was afraid he was going to raise it to his lips. "It's nice to meet you."
He gave her a wide smile..
They walked to the pub where Jane had checked her reflection in the window that
morning. The olde-worlde feel of the exterior was misleading. There were chrome stools at
the bar, a scattering of low tables and sofas with puffy cushions further back.
Keith bought a round of drinks and ushered her over to a table surrounded by chairs
in fluorescent upholstery. "So Jane," he said. "How're you finding it so far?"
"It's only my first day, but it seems like a nice place to work."
Keith laughed. "I meant, London. Must be a bit different from up North." He said 'Up
North' as though it were a contagious disease.
Jane felt her smile tighten. "Yes," she said. "It's very different. The air's dirtier, for a
start."
Eric guffawed. "That's very good."
Keith stared at her for a moment, then gave an unconvincing laugh. "Right. That's
very funny."
"Keith here thinks that anything outside of London is the third world," said Eric.
Jane smiled politely. She'd only been in this man's company for a few minutes and
already the anti-Northerner digs had started. This could be an interesting evening.
Chapter 2
From: James Edwards
To: Marshall Winfield
Pub time!
Jim
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: James Edwards
I'm just writing up the
notes from the meeting. You go ahead. I'll join you there.
Marsh
##
From: James Edwards
To: Marshall Winfield
No way. You're not
wriggling out of it by pretending you're working. I'll be round in five
minutes.
We can't leave the poor girl to Keith and Eric. They'll schmooze
her to death.
Besides Lou says I can have the night off. It's payback for her
going out and leaving me with the kids last week. I can't waste it!
Jim
##
From: Marshall Winfield
To: James Edwards
Okay. Okay. Fine. I'll
meet you by the lifts in five minutes.
* * * *
Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Keith was sitting next to her and, not very
subtly, looking at her legs. He and Eric had been trading insults and joking, which would have
been entertaining, if Keith hadn't been showing Jane so much non-professional interest. Being
arm-candy for Ashby meant she was used to being ogled at, but she'd never learned to be
comfortable with the experience. She wondered how early she could make her excuses and
leave without looking antisocial.
Ordinarily, she didn't mind being surrounded by men. Before Triphoppers became
famous, she had spent many an evening in the pub with Ashby and the band without feeling
awkward. But then she had been a student and the band had been just a bunch of guys her
boyfriend sang with. She hadn't needed to impress them.
With these men, the situation was different. They were work colleagues and part of
the city set. She could sense undercurrents of professional tension, but didn't know what they
were. She felt as though she was a fresher at university once more, aware that allegiances
formed and impressions made in the first week would dog her for the rest of her time there.
As despondency started to creep over her, she told herself that she shouldn't rush to judge. She
took a sip of her wine.
Keith was good looking enough, but the way he was eyeing her up was irritating. Eric
was telling a joke, watching Jane out of the corner of his eye. She recognised that look too,
from when she was with Ashby. It was that of someone calculating how useful she would be
to them. In her past life, she would have clung to Ashby and played the dumb blonde, but she
couldn't do that here. She had to work with these people. She had to show them that she was
smart, capable and likeable.
Besides, she reminded herself, she wasn't blonde any more.
"Hallo, hallo," A cheery voice made them all look up as a red haired man approached
"I'm Jim, one of the junior partners." He had a friendly face and an infectious smile.
Jane liked him immediately.
"Hi." She wondered if everyone defined themselves by their level of seniority in the
company.
Jim moved aside a little. "This is Marshall. One of the associates."
He was tall and handsome and looked oddly familiar. She hadn't been introduced to
him at the office, she would have remembered. And she didn't know many people in London.
Where had she met him?
"Hello again." Marshall's brown eyes lit up. A dimple appeared in his cheek.
The jogger from that morning! He looked different in a suit and with his hair neatly
combed. She had thought that underneath the sweat and the jogging clothes, he might be quite
attractive. It turned out she'd been right.
"Oh! I didn't recognise you..." She was about to say "with clothes on" but realised
how inappropriate that would sound. She felt her cheeks warm.
Marshall seemed to sense the rest of the sentence and his smile widened.
"Do you know each other?" Keith's eye narrowed as he looked from one to the
other.
"Yes, we ran into each other earlier this morning. Literally." Marshall looked around.
"Can I get anyone a drink?"
"I'll have a pint of the usual," said Jim. "I'll grab us a couple of seats."
Keith moved his stool slightly closer to Jane. Jim dragged a stool over and sat on the
other side of her. "So," he said as he shrugged off his coat. "How was your first day,
Jane?"
"It was good, thanks." Jane waited for any comparisons to life in the North, but none
came.
Marshall returned and sat opposite Jane. By then Keith was talking again. There was
a certain over-the-top quality to the way Keith spoke, as though he was trying to project more
personality than he actually had. Jane tried to listen to him, but found her attention kept being
drawn towards Marshall. He really was very handsome. But then, Ashby had been handsome.
It didn't mean he was a nice person.
When there was a lull in Keith's monologue, Marshall said, "So, Jane, what made you
decide to become a patent agent?"
Jane had been asked the same question at almost every job interview. "I wanted to be
involved with cutting edge science without actually doing any lab work. I figured, what better
way than to become a patent attorney and help people file patents to protect their brilliant
inventions."
"Too right," said Jim. "Leave the research to people who are good at it, I say."
Marshall shot Jim an amused look and turned his attention back to Jane. "You started
off working in the pharmaceutical industry, right?"
Jane wondered if he'd been reading her CV, or whether that information had been
part of the email that Ruth mentioned.
"So why did you decide to leave Manchester and come down here to move into
private practice?"
Jane decided to ignore the first part of the question; it would be impossible to explain
her reasons for leaving Manchester without mentioning Ashby. "I wanted to work on a wider
variety of projects." She made eye contact with Marshall for the first time and immediately
forgot what she was about to say.
There was a brief pause and she realised that everyone watching her. Reluctantly, she
looked away from Marshall's eyes, only to find herself looking at his lips. Hurriedly, she
focused on the safer territory of his eyes again. "How about you? Did you always work in
private practice?"
Before Marsh could answer, Keith said, "Marsh has always been with R and T." He
clapped Marshall on the shoulder. "Started off as a mere trainee."
Marshall raised his eyebrows at Jane and nodded. "What he said."
Jim laughed. "Marsh is one of our bright young things," he said. "Who knows, he
might make it to partner one of these days."
Keith gave a derisive snort.
"I worked as a research chemist for a bit before I came here," said Marshall. "As you
say, the variety appeals."
The arrival of Jim and Marshall changed the tone of the evening. Jim's good humour
was infectious and the conversation moved swiftly away from work to teasing Eric about his
upcoming wedding. Jane noticed that Marshall didn't say a lot. She wondered if that meant he
was shy. Keith had stopped looking at her legs quite so often and was using the time to make
supercilious remarks, mostly aimed at Marshall. Marshall, whilst not openly ignoring Keith,
appeared not to hear any of them.
Jane found the interaction between the two men amusing. After her second glass of
wine, she found she was fighting the urge to giggle. For the first time in a long time, she
relaxed and was surprised to realise she was enjoying herself.
* * * *
It was late by the time Jane returned to the flat. Polly was lying on the sofa
reading.
She looked up from her magazine. "Hiya. How was the pub?" Moving to London had
taken the edge off Polly's accent, but it was still noticeably from Lancashire.
Jane found it comforting to come home to. She shrugged off her coat and sank
gratefully into a chair. "Not bad." She eased her feet out of her shoes. "I seem to be in a
mostly male team."
"Oh aye? Anyone nice?"
"Well, there's Keith, who was definitely eyeing me up. A guy called Eric who was a
bit creepy." Jane counted them off her fingers. "Jim, who's lovely, but married and Marshall,
who's a bit quiet."
"Huh. No one promising then?"
Jane stared thoughtfully at her toes. "Marshall seemed all right."
Polly peered at her. "You're blushing." She leaned forward. "So, this Marshall. Tell
me about him."
"I ran into him earlier in the morning. Or rather, he ran into me. I stepped out without
looking and he was jogging past and ran smack into me."
"And then you met him again in the pub."
"It looks like we might be working together sometimes."
Poly nodded. "Is he fit?"
Jane felt her cheeks warm again. "Well, yes. In a Matthew McConoaughey kind of
way."
"What?" Polly sat up. "Dimples?"
"Only one."
"Oooh. And?"
"And nothing." Jane decided not to mention that she'd got a good look at him in his
running shorts. There were some details best kept away from Polly. "He seems very nice. But
like I said, very quiet."
"Maybe he's shy."
Jane laughed. "Don't get excited Pol. He's a work colleague. He's bound to have a
girlfriend anyway. Most nice men our age do."
"You mean you didn't find out if he was single? Jane, you disappoint me."
"Pol..."
"This is the first guy you've so much as noticed since you got here. I'm allowed to get
a leetle bit excited." She held up a finger and thumb to show how little. "If nothing else, it
shows that you're coming out of the depressed state you'd got yourself into."
"I wasn't depressed, I was angry. I still am." She sighed. "I don't think I'm ready to
meet anyone just yet anyway. I mean, my last relationship was a total car crash, I'm not really
looking forward to going into another one."