Who's Afraid of MR Wolfe? Page 13

  She retreated back into the relative safety of thinking about lost love. Was Sam right? Familiarity and habit had been the only glue keeping them together?

  Ellie decided to stop thinking about it any longer or she’d spiral off into the deep, brain-frying question of ‘What is love?’ She had no ready answer; all she knew was that if Sam turned up at her door now and begged to come back, she wouldn’t have him. What would be the point? Whatever they’d had was over; there was no way of reheating it.

  Ellie flinched as she felt Jubbitt Junior’s hand on her knee. Yeuch, was that the hand that had been in his pocket?

  ‘Oh look, Eleanor my dear,’ he said as though he had discovered a rare and exotic animal, ‘I think that we can put another colon here.’

  Ellie smiled politely, imagining in great detail what she would like to do with Mr Jubbitt Junior’s colon should she ever get her hands on it.

  It was already eight o’clock when Ellie got back to the agency, and reception was deserted. Ellie didn’t mind. There was something about the place at this time of night that was inherently exciting to her, more so than when it was full of people. It was almost as if she were part of some special little group within the agency that made it tick – people who worked late to produce the raw material by which the agency stood or fell.

  Either that or she was a deluded workaholic.

  She walked over to Rachel’s desk to see if there were any messages, smiling at the make-up bag carefully positioned out of view. Then the lift doors opened and out came Jack in a dinner suit.

  ‘Bit posh for the pub, isn’t it?’ she said, trying not to stare.

  Jack did a mock yawn. ‘Trade do at the Dorchester.’

  In his dinner suit he didn’t look like the customary penguin, more like some dangerous panther that had been partially tamed but could turn nasty at any minute. He didn’t smell nasty, though. The smell of him curled its way into her consciousness and she couldn’t place what it was. No doubt, in her breathy way, Rachel would say, ‘Essence of Man’.

  ‘Working the night shift on the Jubbitt thing?’ he asked.

  ‘I toil at night so that the world can rest easy that not a piece of punctuation will be out of place.’

  Jack laughed. ‘I heard yesterday went well, though. You got some good voices. You happy?’

  ‘Yes, it was really good. I learned a lot. So now, once I’ve got this brochure out of the way and Jubbitt Junior’s handprints off my thighs, I’ll be ecstatic.’

  Jack went very still. ‘Jubbitt Junior’s what?’ he said, barely moving his mouth.

  ‘His handprints … He’s a bit of a hands-on client, if you know what I mean.’

  Jack stared at her and for the briefest of moments she saw his gaze travel down her body and then back to her face. His look was deep, unfathomable, and Ellie felt she had done something wrong. Then he gave her a curt nod and walked away.

  ‘Bye, then,’ she said to his retreating back, and went off to tackle the Octopus Man’s amends.

  The next morning Ellie looked at Jubbitt Junior standing in front of her in the meeting room and wondered what fresh hell he was about to subject her to. Her eyes were still tired from the marathon session she’d put in last night to deal with all the changes he had flagged up yesterday and she’d had the amended brochure biked over to him first thing. All he needed to do was check he was happy with it, sign it and have it biked back. If he didn’t approve it today the printers would go ballistic.

  So what was so important that he had turned up at the agency? Perhaps he’d decided he wanted copperplate writing instead of type, or maybe he’d like the whole ruddy thing printed on parchment and not paper.

  He was acting very strangely. He’d leaped to his feet when she’d walked in, and there was a crumpled look about him. Sweat beaded on his top lip and his forehead, and he was executing a strange little movement from one foot to the other.

  He looked as she imagined Mr Collins did in Pride and Prejudice just before he proposed to Lizzy Bennet. It was a thought that made Ellie take a couple of surreptitious steps backwards.

  ‘Um, Eleanor, I mean, Miss Somerset, I have approved the copy amends.’ He pointed towards a large folder on the glass-topped table. ‘You must have worked very hard yesterday after we met, very hard indeed. I wanted to say how pleased I am with it. We’re all very pleased with it.’ Jubbitt Junior plaited his fingers as he talked.

  It couldn’t be that simple. If he fell on one knee and asked her to marry him, she was going to have to kick him in the groin, despite having promised herself she was never going to get anywhere near Jubbitt Junior’s groin.

  She saw him lick his lips nervously.

  ‘I also wanted to say, Eleanor, that I have always been a very tactile person and it may be that sometimes I am tactile in the … ahem … wrong situation.’ Jubbitt Junior’s blinking was reaching worrying proportions. He stumbled on, ‘If this … um … tactile approach should have occurred in any of our meetings’ – more blinking – ‘I’m not saying it has, of course, but if it has, I unreservedly, without any further preamble, straight to the point, want to say I’m sorry.’

  Good grief, the dirty devil was apologising. Ellie was unable to comprehend why he should realise right now that he’d been a lecherous old goat. Even more perplexing was the way he was looking at her as if pleading with her to say something.

  She should leap down his throat and tell him exactly what she thought of his fondling ways, but he already looked scared half to death. All those things she had rehearsed to say to him dissolved. Next Christmas she was definitely asking for a harder heart.

  ‘Well,’ she started hesitantly, ‘I have found that maybe you don’t respect people’s personal space as much as you should.’ She waited for him to deny it, but he looked more terrified. ‘And with you being one of our clients, it has made it very difficult for me to say anything to you about it.’

  Jubbitt Junior’s words came out in a torrent. ‘Right. Yes, well, good point, Eleanor. A lesson learned by me there, Eleanor. Yes. Say no more. A lesson learned. Thank you.’

  Ellie could hear his laboured breathing and actually started to become concerned about him having a heart attack or a stroke.

  She was going to say something else, but he abruptly stopped dancing from one foot to the other and made a huge detour round her to get to the door.

  ‘I’m glad that’s clarified,’ he said hurriedly, and gave her a grotesque little half-bow, half-curtsey before wrenching open the door and leaping out into the corridor.

  Most odd. Ellie collected the folder from the table and walked quickly to reception. Rachel was looking up under her eyelashes at a courier who was dressed in an extremely tight pair of cycling shorts and a vest.

  ‘Sorry to bother you, Rachel,’ Ellie said, interrupting the cyclist and trying to keep her eyes from straying to his crotch. ‘Did Jubbitt Junior simply turn up this morning?’

  ‘No, Jack asked me to call him in. He was in with the creep for about half an hour before you.’

  Ellie decided to take the stairs back up to her office. She needed time to think about this. Jack had stepped in and had words with Jubbitt about his inappropriate behaviour, that much was obvious. Why was she surprised? Probably because Gavin had never lifted a finger to help her. She’d spent so long working for a self-obsessed oaf she’d forgotten what a good boss was meant to do for his staff.

  After all, hadn’t Jack brained that guy who had been rude to Mrs MacEndry?

  So if Jack was only doing his job, why did it make her feel as if she’d had a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders?

  She ran up the last few stairs and decided not to beat herself up about it. If someone did something for her, why shouldn’t she feel pleased?

  ‘What are you grinning about?’ Lesley asked when she walked into the office.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ she said, and wondered if not telling the truth was the same as telling a lie.

  CHAPTER 15

/>   The producer counted out, ‘One, two and three,’ with his fingers and then the sweet sound of the singer’s voice filled the studio: ‘With Sure & Soft you’ve got everything covered.’

  Penny was a pale girl with washed-out blonde hair almost hidden by the headphones, but boy, did she have a voice. She was the singer they were using for the last lines of the song and her voice was so good that Ellie and Lesley had decided to fade out the music right before she started to sing. It gave more emphasis to the product name and they were convinced that the sound of Penny’s voice singing out on its own would really stick in people’s brains.

  The producer asked Penny to sing the lines again a couple of times and then shouted across to Ellie, Lesley and Dave, ‘I think that last one was the best. You three happy?’ They all nodded. ‘Well, in that case, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you. Our work here is done.’

  There was an outbreak of cheering from the musicians, who had finished recording some time before but had hung around drinking the free coffee and snaffling all the biscuits. The saxophone player, a guy with a straggly goatee, said loudly, ‘Hallelujah! There’s a ton of dust in my mouth needs watering.’ There was general laughter and a move to pack up and leave.

  Recording studios had always seemed like glamorous little worlds to Ellie, even though the people who inhabited them were usually dressed more casually than she was. And some were definitely borderline geeks. She supposed the glamour bit came from all those decks and switches and microphones. And every now and then you could catch a glimpse of a famous face coming in to do a voiceover for an ad or a documentary.

  On top of that was the thrill Ellie got from knowing that somebody would read out her words here in this room and soon they would be heard by people all over the country. Ignored possibly, but still out there on the airwaves.

  Ellie was relieved that it had been a glitch-free day. The producer and Dave had overseen everything; all she and Lesley needed to do was ensure that the spirit of what they wanted had come through.

  ‘You going to the pub?’ the sound engineer asked them.

  ‘Just for a quick one,’ Ellie replied. ‘I’ve promised someone I’ll meet them for dinner tonight.’

  Lesley gave her a funny look but didn’t say anything until they were out of the building and some way down the street. Ellie guessed that, like her, Lesley was a little disorientated after being in the studio for so long. It was easy to lose track of everything when you were in there concentrating so hard, particularly as there were no windows anywhere to remind you of the outside world. To come out into the street and find that life was carrying on as normal and it was nearly dusk took a few minutes to absorb. Ellie hoped that Lesley wouldn’t pick her up on her comment about dinner, but soon she felt Lesley’s hand on her arm pulling her to one side.

  ‘Who are you meeting?’

  ‘Edith.’

  Lesley flicked her eyes skyward and clicked her tongue. ‘Well, why didn’t you say that? You made it sound like a date. It really wiped the smile off Dave’s face.’

  ‘Dave?’ Ellie said, trying to sound as if she didn’t know what Lesley was getting at, even though the way the guy had been behaving all day had confirmed her earlier suspicions that he liked her. Every time she’d moved, he’d been right behind her.

  ‘Look,’ Lesley said, ‘I know you won’t have noticed this, not having dated since Magna Carta was signed, but Dave really fancies you. Play your cards right and I think he’s going to ask you out.’

  ‘Really?’ Ellie realised she’d overplayed the innocent bit when she saw Lesley’s eyes narrow.

  ‘Hang on … you wanted him to think you had a date.’

  Ellie started walking again. ‘Yeah, well.’

  ‘What’s the problem? He’s really keen.’

  ‘I don’t know, Lesley. I—’

  ‘What are you afraid of? That you’ll have a bad time?’ Lesley gave her a playful pinch on the arm. ‘Or that you’ll have too good a time? Afraid he’ll dislodge Sam the Slug out of your brain for a few hours?’

  Ellie stopped and faced Lesley. There was no shutting her up when she got her teeth into something. ‘I don’t feel ready for—’

  ‘For what? Look, we’re not talking about finding a replacement for Sam. All you need is someone to give you a quick re-bore.’

  Ellie grimaced. ‘Oh, Lesley, lovely poetic thought.’

  ‘Never mind my poetic thoughts. Come on, put him right about your dinner date and get his phone number, eh?’

  They had reached the pub, and as Lesley went to open the door, Penny and the keyboard player came back out. He had his hand on her backside and she had one of hers on his thigh.

  ‘That was quick,’ Ellie said. ‘Must be off for a bit of organ practice.’

  Lesley sniggered and pushed her in through the pub doors.

  Half an hour later Ellie was on the bus to meet Edith with Dave’s phone number on a beermat in her handbag. He hadn’t seemed to mind when she’d told him that she had recently come out of a long-term relationship and wasn’t sure she was ready for anything else yet.

  ‘Well, when you are, make sure it’s me you ring first,’ was all he’d said.

  His goodbye kiss had had a lot of heat in it and it was only Ellie extricating herself from it as tactfully as possible that had stopped it bursting into something much hotter.

  When Ellie got to the restaurant, Edith was already sitting at the table, a large gin and tonic in front of her. She seemed preoccupied and Ellie suspected that she was up to something. The restaurant was all starched tablecloths and even starchier waiting staff; the waiter who greeted Ellie had done a little camp shudder at the sight of her jeans.

  Somewhere there was a string quartet sawing its way through Lloyd Webber hits.

  When Ellie saw the prices on the menu, her suspicions that Edith was buttering her up grew stronger.

  ‘Edith, it’s mind-blowingly expensive here. I’m only going to have a first course and a pudding.’

  Edith waved her objections away and, as if to prove some kind of point, ordered an expensive bottle of wine.

  Over on the other side of the restaurant, a couple of diners were smirking at Edith’s outfit and probably trying to work out which short transvestite in London was currently missing a velvet catsuit with sequinned belt. Edith gave them one of her dowager stares and they looked away hurriedly and became engrossed in the wine list.

  The first part of the meal passed without event. As the large white plates bearing tiny portions arrived, Ellie and Edith chatted about nothing in particular and whispered about the people at the next table, who had not said one word to each other since they had been seated. Even so, Ellie knew that Edith’s mind was elsewhere, and after the puddings had been placed in front of them, Edith put down her spoon and fork.

  ‘Ellie darling, I have not been entirely honest about why I invited you for dinner tonight.’ Edith’s tongue darted out and made a nervous pass over her lips.

  ‘Well, I was curious, Edith. I mean, you’re always generous, but this is way beyond that. Come on, spill the beans.’

  Edith’s fingers were now playing with the buttons down the front of her catsuit. She gave a delicate cough. ‘Well, Ellie, I know, of course, that your flat is up for sale and I couldn’t help noticing when I was staying with you recently that you have lots of details of other flats. From estate agents. Lots.’ She gave Ellie a concerned look.

  ‘Too many, Edith. I’m getting bogged down trying to decide which ones to go and see. But with Sam …’ Ellie still couldn’t bring herself to say ‘gone’.

  ‘Yes, I understand, dear. On one salary you can’t afford the flat you’re in.’

  ‘Not just the flat, Edith. I can’t afford the area either. I’m looking much further out. It will cost me more to get to and from work, but … Anyway, there are a couple of flats in Harrow on the Hill that sound good.’

  ‘Harrow on the Hill!’ Edith made it sound like Hades.

  ‘They
’re still slightly outside my budget, but what with the knickers thing, I was thinking of asking for a pay rise soon.’

  Thinking about it, but not fully intending to do anything. That would mean going in to see Jack, whom she’d been avoiding since the Jubbitt Junior incident. It had been much easier to see Jack as a testosterone-driven power freak than a decent person who protected his staff. And she still couldn’t quite understand that deep look he had given her when she had first told him about Jubbitt Junior’s wandering hands. It had made her feel at the time as though she was at fault; now it made her feel unsettled, like … Well, she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t name that emotion, like she couldn’t name the word that would describe Jack perfectly. Just when she needed words, they seemed to be failing her. Jack was making her feel like a dictionary slowly being wiped of its contents.

  Ellie realised she had been daydreaming when she heard the tail end of Edith saying, ‘And I did notice, Ellie, that many of those flats only have one bedroom …’

  Ellie had a light-bulb moment. ‘Don’t worry, Edith – I’m going to get a sofa bed. When you want to stay, you can have my bed and I’ll sleep on that.’ She reached across and gave Edith’s arm a squeeze. ‘Nothing will change. It will just be a bit further for you to travel. I can always come and collect you, keep you company on the bus.’

  Edith picked up her spoon and pushed her chocolate mousse à la Bavarois around the bowl. She had her lips pursed and Ellie noticed how she had managed to overrun the edges of them quite dramatically with her lipstick. Edith put down her spoon again.

  ‘This flat business, Ellie. There is an alternative you might like to consider. My house is very large, too large for one … I wondered … why not come and live with me?’

  Ellie’s mouth formed itself into a little ‘no’ shape. There wasn’t any way she could live with Edith. The thought was a kind one, but completely mad. Every time she visited Edith’s house she came away depressed. With its swirly carpets and epileptic-fit-inducing wallpapers, it was a homage to all that was wrong with 1970s décor. The kitchen was a nightmare of old and unreliable appliances, and the garden was completely overgrown.