‘Blonde, stunning, very well dressed.’
My heart catches up with my mind and commences to sprint. ‘Around forty?’
‘Late thirties, early forties. Do you know her?’
‘Yeah, I know her.’ My palm finds my forehead and my elbow rests on the table. Sophia.
‘Rude cow,’ Sylvie spits indignantly, and I huff my agreement, but what the hell is she doing tracking me down?
‘What did you tell her?’
‘Not much, just that you no longer work at the bistro. Who is she?’
I take a deep breath and sink back into my chair, injured at Sylvie’s reminder that I no longer have a job. ‘No one important.’
Sylvie laughs through her exertion – an insulted, disbelieving laugh. ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘Anyway, just thought you should know. I’m at the station so my reception is gonna die any moment. Swing by next week. It would be nice to see you.’
‘I will,’ I agree, though there is no mistaking the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. Stupidly, I don’t want to see my replacement handling the coffee machine with precision or delivering the shop’s famous tuna melts.
‘Take care, Livy,’ Sylvie says softly, and then cuts the call before I can give my assurance that I will. That reply wouldn’t have been any more convincing than the previous agreement to swing by sometime.
I go to dial Miller but freeze when an unknown number illuminates my screen. I stare at my phone in my hand for a long, long while, trying to fathom the deep-seated sense of anxiety riddling me, telling me not to answer.
Of course, I ignore it and go right ahead and connect the call. ‘Hello.’ I sound timid and nervous. I am, yet I don’t want whoever’s on the other end of this call to know that, so when I get no response, I repeat myself, this time clearing my throat and forcing confidence into my tone. ‘Hello?’ There’s nothing, no reply, no sound in the background. I draw breath to speak again, but I catch a familiar sound and end up holding the air that I’ve just inhaled. I hear words. A familiar voice with a foreign accent, all husky and low.
‘Miller, darling, you know how I feel about you.’
I swallow my breath and battle to prevent myself choking on it.
‘I know, Sophia.’ Miller’s reply is soft and accepting. It makes me feel nauseous.
‘Then why have you been avoiding me?’ she asks, equally as gentle. My mind is quickly building up the scene on the other end of this line. And I really don’t like what I’m picturing.
‘I needed a time-out.’
‘From me?’
My bum lifts from the chair until I’m standing, waiting for Miller’s response to that. I hear him sigh, and I definitely hear the chink of glass on glass. He’s pouring a drink. ‘From everything.’
‘The other women, I accept. But do not run away from me, Miller. I’m different, yes?’
‘Yes,’ he agrees without hesitation. None whatsoever. My body develops the shakes, my heart is pounding in my chest, and my racing mind is making me dizzy.
‘I missed you.’
‘And I you, Sophia.’
The bile shoots from my stomach to my throat and an invisible grip wraps around my neck, choking me. I cut the call, not needing to hear any more. I suddenly can’t breathe, overcome by fury. And yet, I’m perfectly calm as I pop my head around the lounge door to find Ted at the window, his suited body relaxed in his standing pose. He’s pretty much been in the same position since we got home.
‘I’m going to soak in the bath,’ I tell his back, and he looks over his shoulder, smiling at me warmly.
‘Will do you good,’ he says, returning to face the window.
I leave him on watch and go upstairs to get dressed. I’m trying to think straight, trying to recall Miller’s words to Sophia, Sophia’s words to me, Miller’s words to me about Sophia. It’s all gone, leaving a mammoth void in my mind to conjure up plenty of other thoughts – none of which I like. I knew she was different, someone to be more wary of. I slip on some skinny jeans and a satin camisole. I avoid my Converse, stepping into my black stilettos instead. A ruffle of my hair to bring out the waves and a dusting of powder finishes me off. Then I grab my purse, creep down the stairs, and wait for my moment to slip out the door unnoticed. My moment comes in the form of a call on Ted’s mobile. He turns his back to the window and starts to pace around the lounge, talking quietly. Letting myself quietly out the door, I set off with absolutely no urgency. The anger is dominating me. So why on earth do I feel so calm?