This is a Love Story (7 page)

that must have been. I flinched at the thought of her in some dirty, sexy embrace with him, and slammed my right fist down on the

table. The anger was rising thick and fast in my chest, clawing at my throat and suffocating me.

‘Just stop, will you? I’ve met someone else. Just take your stuff – all of it – and go. Post your key back through the door when

you’re finished, yeah? Oh, and the Radiohead album is mine.’ I got to my feet quickly and stormed out of the house, ignoring the

shouts behind me and slamming the door so hard I was worried the glass would crack. I noticed that my hands were shaking.

Adrenaline was pumping so hard round my body I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Of course I hadn’t really met someone else – well, no one that I could call my girlfriend. Yes, I had met Sienna, and granted, I had

fallen pretty hard, but it would have been a little psychotic of me to make out that she felt the same, because I was pretty sure she

didn’t. But it seemed like the best thing to say at the time.

I hoped Amelia would be angry at me, just like I was with her. It was the best way to move on.

The sun was out this morning and the birds were singing; spring was tracing its gentle fingers through my world, changing

everything around me. My anger about Amelia started to peel away as I walked, like a snake shedding its skin. I took deep breaths

and felt the cool air fill my chest. I wanted to get rid of all this stuff, leave it behind me and start afresh. Alone. Maybe I could just

start again. Me, a carefree, single guy. A kind of fresh start.

The train journey was quick, smooth and incident-free. I needed today to be simple. I had a meeting with Anthony at 1 p.m.,

which had been worrying me a little. He hadn’t said what it was about when he called first thing this morning, but he’d sounded

pretty pissed off. Maybe I was due a telling-off. To be fair, I had been moping around with a face like a wet weekend.

A few weeks ago I had drafted some new ideas in terms of graphical direction for our magazines, something to really give us an

edge. I felt it was time to pull these out of the hat, and if we were due for crisis talks, I was hopeful about proving to him that I was

serious about my career. I would tell him I’d let things slip, but I was on the turn, surfing the wave, and everything would be just

fine.

I was off to a gaming fair in America the next day and I was determined to redeem myself then, even though it would involve me,

Tom and the company credit card. It was a huge distraction but I had to resist the pranks and binge drinking, I told myself. Suddenly

my head was filled with images of Tom and me passed out and spooning in some luxurious hotel room after a few too many beers. I

shuddered.

I was feeling pretty sick with nerves in the build-up to the meeting, but then something strange happened that completely diverted

my attention from the fact that I might be about to be fired.

Just after midday, some homeless guy started kicking off outside in a big way. No one in the office knew why. He was yelling

something about a photo. He was probably drunk, and he ended up throwing beer cans at the windows on our floor, managing to

crack one of Ant’s, who was predictably furious about the whole thing. We were all told to stay upstairs while security was called.

Of course, everyone in the office was delighted. They were huddled in groups, chattering away by the windows and watching as

this lunatic rampaged around the car park like an angry bear. I stayed in my office.

It was pretty short-lived entertainment, however, and by quarter to one the whole thing had died down. Everyone was saying they

had seen Sienna outside, calming him down and sorting things out. I don’t know why she had been dragged into it all. It’s a waste of

time, to be honest, you can never really help people like that. I think it’s best to just stay out of it. I could tell already that she was

one of those good, kind people, and if she carried on getting involved we’d end up with all the homeless and dejected people in

Balham sleeping in our cars.

The hand on the big rectangular clock was just about to hit one, so I gathered my papers and made my way to Anthony’s office. I

was nervous, a feeling that had been becoming all too familiar recently.

As I walked towards his office I spotted Sienna, walking slowly towards me with a shy smile painted across her features. She

looked flustered and her eyes were a little pink, like she might have been crying. But she was still beautiful.

Her movements slowed right down, just like in the films. She was wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a retro cardigan with frills

on the sleeves. Her long brown hair was sleek and shiny, tumbling over her shoulders. Yet again, she was holding a cup of tea. I

wondered if there was one permanently fused to her hand.

Our paths drew closer and closer until we both stood awkwardly outside Anthony’s mezzanine floor. ‘Do you want to get past?’ I

said, comically extending a gentlemanly arm to let her through.

She looked puzzled. ‘Er, no. I’m going to see Ant. Why are you . . .?’ she responded, a look of total confusion in her eyes.

‘Oh, but I’m due to see him at one,’ I told her, wondering if I’d got the time wrong. Then a cold wave of realisation washed over

me.

She looked at her watch and shook it next to her ear, biting her bottom lip.

We stood there for a few moments, obviously unsure of what we should do next. Then she broke the silence.

‘I think I’m in real trouble, Nick, about what happened earlier in the car park. Shit. Bollocks,’ she said, looking as if she was

about to cry.

I was really confused now. She couldn’t have caused the whole thing, could she? If she had, then yes, she was right. Ant would

probably send her packing, to be honest. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly.

I opened my mouth to speak but I was interrupted. ‘Right, you two, come on in,’ said Anthony, his booming voice reverberating

down the small flight of stairs leading to his den.

He ushered us in with a pair of chubby hands in an animated, impatient fashion, a look of distinct irritation all over his face. Then

we stood there for a moment like confused pigeons, legs twitching.

‘Well, come on, then!’ he sighed in exasperation. He seemed really angry now. If Sienna was in some kind of trouble about this

homeless guy, then why was I being dragged into it? Why was I in this room? It had nothing to do with me. And anyway, the

meeting had been called early this morning, before the car park debacle. Maybe she had got into other skirmishes with this guy when

I was away and this was the start of a disciplinary that I would have to be involved in. I did technically have middle management

status . . .

Shit. That would be a disaster. Having to professionally punish the girl you fancy. Thanks a lot. My mind started wading through

the awful possibilities. What if I eventually had to fire her? That wouldn’t exactly be a great precursor to ‘So, how about a date?’

Two chairs were positioned opposite Ant’s leather throne, which was so large that I often feared he would one day get lost in it.

And Anthony was not a small man. Big in size, big in voice, big in presence. His ears were big, his mouth was big, and even his

bones were big, I was sure. At 6 foot 6, he towered over most people he met, and regularly made people jump when he walked into

a room (which I had to admit, I found very funny).

Although Ant and I got on well, he could still inspire a certain terror in me. He reminded me of Mr Blake, an incredibly scary

teacher at my school. While we had run circles around the others, chewing gum in class and answering back, Blake used to frighten

the hell out of us.

As well as being chubby, which was his most significant feature, Ant’s head was adorned with a big pile of brown curls that

never seemed to be under any kind of control. He had dark, beady eyes and a round snub nose. But despite his booming demeanour,

he had a nervous element to his personality. He found lengthy eye contact difficult and he tended to fiddle with things around him a

lot, often pulling at the curls on the back of his head when he was thinking.

I didn’t trust him entirely, but like everyone else I found myself slithering around him like a snake, in case he used his power

against me in a moment of rage.

That was another thing: Anthony was angry. We regularly heard banging from his office on the main production floor as he

slammed his fist on the desk, and shouted at some poor minion on the phone. We would just cringe and keep typing.

He plonked himself down in front of us, small beads of sweat gathering on his forehead from the sheer effort of the treacherous

four-metre walk from his door. I was surprised he hadn’t asked for sponsorship. Over his shoulder you could see a huge fissure in

the window overlooking the car park.

Feeling slightly concerned that Sienna might see them, I tucked my ideas behind the clipboard I was holding. I didn’t want her to

think I was a brown-nosing loser panicking about getting fired (which is, incidentally, exactly what I was).

‘Right, you two,’ Anthony said again, moving a brightly coloured A4 photo frame out of the way and leaning back to reveal an

oversized and very satisfied-looking tummy. One of the buttons had come undone, showing a flash of pale skin covered in coarse

dark hair. Gross.

‘We have obviously had some drama this afternoon,’ he went on, turning towards the cavernous crack in the glass behind him,

then looking back at Sienna with a frown. Yes, this was definitely what the meeting was all about.

She sank down into her chair, looking very guilty. I started to feel the panic rising as I imagined having to fill out procedure sheets

and hold a meeting with her in a month’s time to find out if she had learned her lesson, or whatever the course of action in these

cases might be.

Ant started to speak again. ‘But aside from that, which seems to be sorted out now, we have another problem. Tom called in sick

this morning and he won’t be able to make the trip to America.’ He rubbed his chin with one hand.

I leaned back in my chair and looked down the stairs to Tom’s desk. Of course – his chair had been empty all morning. I’d just

assumed he was at a meeting. I was a bit pissed off that it might mean the trip was cancelled.

But wait. If Sienna had been called in, this must mean . . . Oh, please, say it means what I think it must mean . . .

‘Sienna, I know you’re relatively new, but I think you’ve settled in well so I want you to work with Nick on this one,’ he

announced. Sienna blushed a little and smiled at me as she put her cup of tea on Ant’s chunky wooden desk.

‘Sienna, I want you to create a series of articles for a ten-page supplement for Digimax on the annual gaming fair in Florida. Nick

will be the man behind the illustrations and photographs. How does that sound?’

Silence filled the room as both our original assumptions were blown out of the water and replaced with something utterly

wonderful. I wanted to break this silence like a small child. I wanted to punch the air with delight, leap onto my chair and ruffle my

boss’s hair with joy. The man who I’d previously viewed as a fat obstacle to my happiness was now worthy of carving into a statue

and worshipping. He had gone from nagging me, making girls cry, and keeping us in late, to setting me up on a work trip with one

of the fittest girls I’d ever seen . . . I wanted to run over to Sienna, pick her up and jump onto the plane with her now. My head was

suddenly swamped with images of us waking up in a hotel bed together in one of those ‘whoops’ movie moments, where everything

is sexy and turns out to be OK, and not shit, like reality.

Sienna looked flattered. Overcome. Delighted, even. But still, neither of us managed to actually speak.

Maybe I could take her on a date on the trip. The possibilities flooded my mind and I immediately told myself off because it was

against my new ‘colleagues + relationships = bad’ rule.

‘You two aren’t in the mood for talking today, are you?’ Ant chuckled, pulling out a can of Diet Coke from his mini fridge. The

cool snapping sound of the ring pull cut sharply through the awkward chasm of quiet.

‘Sorry, that’s great news. Thanks ever so much. And I want to talk to you afterwards about what happened earlier . . . I can

explain it all,’ said Sienna, looking really nervous now. I noticed her feet shuffle inwards and her hands flex on her lap. Her body

language radiated fear.

‘Look, just forget about it. I don’t know what happened, but we don’t have time to worry about it right now. Pop into my office

before you leave for the day. I do want you to go on this trip – I think it would be great experience for you,’ he said, warming up a

little after his brusque opening.

She turned her face towards mine and bit her lip. Damn, she was sexy.

‘Is that OK, Nick?’ asked Ant, leaning over the desk and waking me from my daydream as he pushed his sloppy jowls in my

direction.

‘Yes, yes, of course. It’ll be great to work with Sienna on this,’ I replied, trying to sound as cool as possible when actually I

wanted to kiss him on the cheek and give him a ‘best friends forever’ bracelet.

Ant turned to Sienna. ‘So, we need to book you some flights. You’ll be leaving tomorrow morning and it’s a three-day thing. All

right?’

There was barely time for the poor girl to think, even if it wasn’t all right.

‘Yes,’ she replied quickly. ‘Actually, Ant, I need to just ring home and check, you know . . . that everything will be OK,’ she