This is a Love Story (44 page)

‘Nick. You’re his right-hand man. Please tell me, am I going to get fired?’

‘I have to go, there’s someone at the door,’ he said in his joke robot voice that I usually found so funny, but not right now.

‘Nick, I know full well there’s no one at your door, I can see your office right in front of me and if you hang up I’m going to—’

And that was it. I was cut off. Unfinished. Unresolved. Bugger.

I was in a state of anxiety for the rest of the day. My stomach churned. My hands trembled. What would I do if I lost my job?

How would Dad and I cope? These thoughts kept flying around my head until I was finally sitting in front of Ant. He had his feet up

on the desk and was leaning so far back in his chair that I felt an accident was imminent. This was not the body language of an

axeman, I considered, but that was a short-lived comfort.

‘Right then, Sienna. Do you want some tea?’ he asked, putting both arms behind his chubby neck.

Tea. That’s never good. Tea is a drink used to calm people down. Like for example, ‘Here, have a cup of tea – oh, and by the

way, your rabbit died at the hands of a demonic, rabid fox last night.’

A box of tissues was sitting in front of me, a flash of white poking from the top and flaring out invitingly as if to say ‘Go on, it’s

been a while, have a cry, use me.’

‘What’s going on, Ant?’ I questioned, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, which must have been as obvious as daylight.

‘Right, well. This won’t come as a surprise to you, Sienna, because quite frankly your performance here has been’ – oh God, I

thought, he’s seen how preoccupied I’ve been – ‘exceptional,’ he started.

Did I just hear that right?

‘I have a job for you, a new one. We need a new editor for SparkNotes. The current editor has announced her intention to leave

the company to travel. I want you to replace her.’

Me? Sienna? I almost turned around to see if anyone else was in the room. Maybe there had been a horrible case of mistaken

identity. My stomach plunged with excitement and I stared at his forehead for a while.

‘Sienna?’ he nudged, pulling his feet away from the desk now and shuffling forwards in his chair, his elbows on a pile of

paperwork.

‘What, really? Definitely me?’ I muttered before realising I should show a little more confidence in myself.

‘Of course, Si. You’re a star. You probably want to check the details of the job and everything, but I’m sure you know what it

entails.’

Of course I know what it entails. It’s a job I’ve been coveting like Brad Pitt’s bottom ever since I arrived. It means being the editor

of a music magazine read by 500,000 people. Editor at the age of twenty-five, and my own team of journalists. Surely this must be a

mistake. I couldn’t help but wonder if Nick had had something to do with this . . .

‘And of course it involves a pay rise for you, and a car, too,’ he said, pushing a sheet of paper towards me with a figure on it

much higher than I had imagined. ‘I think this will be a great opportunity for you. I really do. I can’t think of anyone more suitable to

run this publication for us,’ he concluded, folding his arms over his belly.

Oh wow. My mind started whizzing through the possibilities. I could do the things I’d always wanted to do – get more social

media going, create branded features, inject some more enthusiasm into the journalists by actually listening to them and inspiring

them . . .

This was incredible, and completely out of the blue. Chloe had said this job would be up for grabs back at the Christmas party, but

I’d never thought it would come to anything. I’d never really imagined it to be a possibility . . .

‘Ant. Thanks so much. I don’t really know what to say!’

‘Say yes, maybe?’ he said, with a nervous grin.

‘Yes, yes! Of course!’ I shrieked.

‘Brilliant. Well done,’ he replied, handing me a wedge of documents.

‘Now get out of here,’ he said, chuckling to himself and picking up the phone.

I scuttled out of the office, unsure about what to do next. All I wanted to do was jump for joy. Start making plans. Start my new

life. Tell my dad. I just couldn’t wait to tell him. I saw my father and me as a team, and I had just scored a home run for us. For us.

Nick must have known. I guess that was what he was hinting at when he mentioned dinner tonight. I scuttled back to my desk,

grabbed a Post-it note and with a thick black biro I wrote five words:

India. Fiji. Uganda. Argentina. Thailand.

Nick

Tonight my life is going to change. I’m going to tell the girl of my dreams that I love her.

I’m not going to rush into it and tell her everything I’ve buried deep for so long over the photocopier in the stationery room.

Timing is key.

I took a razor to my chin and removed the small forest of facial fluff that had grown all over it. Then I got the iron out and ran it

over the garments that had built up in a pile in the corner of my bedroom. This included my red and white striped shirt. The one I’d

worn to Florida that time Sienna and I covered the gaming fair. The night we lost all our cares in a strip of uptown bars. I was going

to wear it tonight.

I’d felt nervous when I woke up this morning. What if Pete was wrong? What if he was playing a prank? What if I told her and

she laughed at me? Oh God, this was terrifying. Aftershave might help, I thought, as I stood in front of the mirror, looking at a

terrified me.

Ross had well and truly calmed me down at the pub last night, but this morning I was back to square one.

‘She loves me, Ross,’ I’d said hurriedly, as soon as Tom realised that he’d got pissed too quickly and had to leave at 9 p.m.,

walking into a bar stool on his way out.

I’d been itching to say something all evening, but I couldn’t in front of Tom. His premature drunkenness was perfectly timed.

‘Who? Your mum?’ asked Ross, starting to chuckle before patting me on the back. Oh, the ‘your mum’ jokes – popular at school,

rife at university, still unavoidable in later life . . .

‘No, well yes, she does, but I’m talking about Sienna,’ I said, rolling my eyes in frustration.

‘What?’ cried my friend, who had only just stopped laughing and was now staring at me in shock. His time at the gym now saw

him looking quite a lot like one of those jumbo Toblerone bars you can buy in airports. I could almost hear the buttons on his top

shrieking in fear before they tore away from the fabric and pinged into shirtless oblivion.

‘Yes. Is it that hard to believe?’ I joked.

‘Well, a little. After five years? Are you sure about this?’

Thanks a lot, Ross. You could be a bit happier for me. Was it really that hard to believe? Maybe all the muscles he’d developed

lately were stopping the blood flowing to his brain properly and rendering him emotionless.

‘Yes. Well, it’s utterly bizarre. She’s friends with this homeless guy called Pete and after work today he was hanging around my

car.’

‘Right . . .’ said Ross dubiously as he played with a ring of water on the table, left by the condensation from his glass.

As I spoke I realised how ridiculous this story sounded. ‘At first I didn’t recognise him. I thought he was going to mug me or

something, so we had a bit of an embarrassing scuffle, but anyway—’

‘You tried to beat up a homeless man?’ He arched one eyebrow questioningly, starting to grin from ear to ear.

‘No, no, no. Well, I guess, almost. For God’s sake, let me finish. I realised it was him and I let him in my car, and he told me,’ I

concluded, throwing both hands in front of me and sitting back in my chair with a look of elation.

‘Sienna has loved you for five years and she told a tramp and not you.’ The eyebrow twitched again as he assessed me. ‘You

need to tell me more.’

So I told him. Everything. The whole conversation. The slops of Coke, the dirty boots on the newly cleaned dashboard, the horn-

beeping joy of it all.

And then he softened. ‘Fucking hell, Nick. This is huge. I’m so, well, happy for you, mate,’ he said with a smile. I could tell he

was confused and I didn’t blame him.

Usually when I met up with Ross it was to discuss something awful or humiliating I’d done, which I think, in a way, gave him

great pleasure. But for once things were going my way and I hadn’t done something that would have my mate pissing himself at my

expense. Now all the stars had aligned for me (for once) and he was unsure of what to say next.

‘So you’ve told her how you feel, right?’ he asked, shoving a handful of peanuts into his mouth.

‘No.’

‘What?’

‘I said no.’

‘You idiot!’

‘Thanks. Why am I an idiot? What have I done now?’

‘So basically, the girl of your dreams loves you, even though it was as obvious as the nose on my face—’

‘You do have a big nose, pal,’ I interrupted him.

‘You’ve loved her for five whole agonising years and yet as soon as you find out she feels the same, you’re sitting in this dingy

pub with me, your fat friend, drinking overpriced, flat beer.’

‘You’re not fat, Ross, you just took the bodybuilding a bit too far.’

He ignored me. ‘So you’re sitting in the pub with your fat friend rather than knocking down her door and sorting this out?’

‘I was waiting for the right . . . moment?’ I said, a cold wave of realisation washing over me.

He looked at me. I looked at him. He had a point. There was almost a minute of silence while we mourned the loss of something.

My common sense.

‘Should I go now?’ I said, suddenly standing up and grabbing hold of my jacket, ready to sweep her off her feet.

‘No, no, no,’ he said, pulling me right back down again.

‘What? You’re confusing me.’

‘It’s nearly ten, Nick, and to be honest you look like a homeless guy yourself. Plus, judging by the look in your eyes I reckon

you’re about 60 per cent drunk, which means you’ll probably ruin the whole thing.’ He took a huge gulp of his pint, keeping an

absolutely straight face.

I’d imagined this moment to be a little different to how it had turned out. I’d thought it would involve lots of smiling, backslapping

and deep man-talk about love that would make us so emotional we’d both have to clear our throats and ‘go for a quick walk

outside’. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or the knowledge that Sienna felt the same, but it seemed as though I was walking on

clouds all the way back home that night.

But my nerves seemed to treble when I saw her walk into the office this morning, and rather than locking them away somewhere

quiet like I should have done, I bounded over to her before she’d even had the chance to sit down. I think I might have freaked her

out.

Lydia almost blew my cover too. I’d bumped into her in the lift earlier. ‘Hey, Lyds,’ I said, folding my newspaper in half and

starting to read the front-page story. Again. I’d attempted to read it a few times this morning but my eyes kept hovering over the first

line. I was too excited to finish the rest, never mind actually open up the paper. Do. Not. Tell. Her. Be strong, Nick. Mouth shut.

Keep quiet.

‘Hey, Nick. You OK?’ she asked, standing next to me, looking lovely and smelling like fruits of the forest. As usual she looked

nice, but there was a lot of boob going on today . . .

‘Oh my God, Sienna loves me,’ I blurted out as the lift started to pull away from reception. Well done. Idiot. It was the rack – it

made me talk.

She turned towards me with her mouth wide open and a look of sheer joy on her face, as if she’d been told she’d won the lottery.

‘I know she does!’ she shrieked, jumping up and down in a pair of treacherously high shoes.

The lift shook a little so I threw out my hand to stop her. Lifts were scary enough as it was. She knew too? I wondered how many

other people knew. And why hadn’t they bloody well told me?

We stood and stared at each other in wonder for a few seconds. ‘She’s liked you for a long time, Nick. I’m so happy for you

both.’ She giggled, elbowing me in the side before the doors opened, then flounced off way too fast.

But wait . . . It had been such a brief conversation that I’d forgotten to say the most important thing, which was ‘Don’t say

anything, I haven’t told her that I know . . .’ So later, after Sienna had arrived and I saw Lydia pull up a chair next to her, I had no

option but to yank her away. I admit I did tug pretty hard on her arm, but it seemed to work. So far so good. Disaster averted.

It was about 11 a.m. when the phone on my desk rang, waking me from a daydream.

‘Right, Nick, I’ve asked Sienna to come and see me at 3 p.m. about this job.’ It was Ant and this was a decision that would

change her life forever.

‘Brilliant! That’s great, Ant. You won’t regret it, you really won’t,’ I said, realising how clichéd this all sounded. But I knew he

wouldn’t regret it. No one had ever given Sienna responsibility and regretted it. She was more capable than the whole office put

together. She was amazing.

‘OK, but keep your mouth shut. I’m not talking to her until 3 p.m., and she might even turn it down,’ he instructed, before rudely

hanging up on me. I didn’t care this time.

I thought about her father and how proud he would be. I knew George quite well now, and I knew that this would bring him great

joy. But someone like George couldn’t go out and do the things other fathers would to show their pride. Chocolates. Balloons.

Flowers. Whatever. I knew this would be a bit of a risk, but I was willing to take it. I picked up the phone and dialled. It rang a few

times and then eventually there was a click on the other end of the line.