Getting Even (20 page)

“Ah, Rob!” He was by the stretch mats waiting, dressed in his uniform of trainers, navy tracksuit bottoms, and a white vest.

“Ivy, hi.”

Mwah. Mwah.
“So, what today?”

“Actually, before I forget, I wonder if you could do me a favor?”

Ivy never agreed to favors before finding out what they were. “What?”

“Are you going to see Dan today?”

“I expect so. Why?”

Rob reached into his trouser pocket. “He left this.” Ivy recognized it at once as the watch Orianna had given him for his birthday. “Oh?”

“I'm not seeing him till next week, so I wondered if you'd return it.”

“Sure.” Ivy didn't hesitate. “I'll wear it, that's simplest.” She pulled it around her slender wrist.

“Great.”

Careless of Dan, thought Ivy. He should take more care of his possessions. “He left it in the changing room I suppose?”

“In the staff room.”

How odd, Ivy reflected. “What was he doing taking it off there?”

“I gave him a fitness assessment. So I weighed him and stuff.”

Ivy looked at him sideways, the same persuasive gesture she'd used on Cassie. “Yeeess…?” To her delight, Rob blushed. God, it was so easy to make some people color up! She had a true gift for it. “What on earth would make Dan take off his watch to have a
fitness
assessment?”

“Don't ask me.” Rob shrugged.

“Are you sure that was the only reason?” Ivy gave him a nudge. Goodness, she thought. Did I really hit on something with my suggestions of Dan's bisexuality after all? What fun!

“Quite sure.” Then he gushed, “Though it was weird. He took all his clothes off for me to weigh him!”

“
All
his clothes?”

“Well, he kept on his shorts, but otherwise, yeah.”

“
No!
” Ivy clapped her hands. “How scandalous!”

“Do you think?”

“Of course. He must have been coming on to you, I reckon.”

“Honestly?”

She could detect hope in his voice. “Take it from me.”

“I'm not so sure…”

Nor was Ivy, in truth. She liked to weigh herself when she came out of the shower—it gave a more accurate reading—but this wasn't about honesty. “It seems a mite suspicious.”

“Mm.”

“Who asked for the assessment?”

“He did.”

“He must have known that would mean you two got to be alone.”

“I suppose…”

“I'll give it to him later.” She coaxed one last time, “But, really, nothing happened?”

Rob blushed some more. How quaint, thought Ivy, he has a major crush. “No.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I believe you,” said Ivy. “But thousands wouldn't.”

*   *   *

Dan phoned the gym the moment he got out of Tottenham Court Road station. Orianna had gone ahead to pick up a coffee.

It seemed to take ages for anyone to answer and his heart was thumping by the time a girl picked up the phone.

“Who am I speaking to?” he asked.

“Jane.”

“Ah, Jane.” He always said hi to her. She seemed efficient, good. “It's Dan Cohen. I wondered, has a watch been handed in at all?”

“What's it like?”

“It's a Paul Smith one.”

“With a purple strap?”

“Yes.”

“One of the instructors found it in the staff room last night.”

“Oh, thank God!” Dan could feel his heart slow in relief. “Can I come and collect it?”

“Actually, I've already given it to Rob.”

Dan stopped outside Green's offices. “Ah.”

“He said he'd give it to you.”

“But I'm not seeing him till next week.” Oh help, he thought, heartbeat quickening again. Maybe Rob's going to use it as a ruse to meet up.

“I'm sure he'll call you. Hang on a sec, I'll check his appointments…” There was a pause. “He's booked up all morning, but if I catch him, I'll tell him you called.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want his mobile number? I doubt he'll answer when he's training but you could leave him a message.”

“I've got it,” said Dan, and called Rob straight away. As he stood waiting for Rob to pick up, several colleagues passed him on the steps to the office. I'd better hurry, he thought. Rob's voice mail clicked on—that was a blessing—he could avoid a conversation. He was about to begin speaking, when Earl nudged him to say hello. Thrown, he blurted his message, “Er, Rob, hi mate, it's Dan here. Give me a call, please?” Then he leaped up the stairs into work, happy that his watch was in safe hands.

 

23. I have a thing for you

When Ivy arrived at Green, Cassie was not around, but evidently she was already in the agency; her stuff lay strewn on the sofa by their desks.

Perhaps she's nipped to the ladies' room, thought Ivy. She was poised to get on with her copy, when she did a double take.

A zip-up rectangle of shiny red leather, with a pert little handle, like a schoolgirl's lunch box lay open on the cushions, its jaws wide, hungry: a patent invitation.

Ivy stood on tiptoe and checked left, right, over the partition walls.

Then she pushed up the sleeve of her jumper, unbuckled Dan's watch from her wrist, and swiftly dropped it into Cassie's handbag, between her mobile and purse. She stood back and examined her handiwork. No; not obvious enough. She glanced about again and pulled the strap out a little, so it protruded from the top of the bag. The bright red leather offset the purple strap brilliantly.

Now what?

Few thought faster than Ivy when opportunity called.

First, she located Cassie. Sure enough, she found her in the loo, combing her hair. Little surprise; Cassie spent a lot of time grooming since she'd started seeing Leon—she couldn't go half an hour without checking her appearance.

“Ah, Cassie, there you are.” Ivy stepped alongside her in front of the mirror.

“Ivy, hi. How are you?”

“I'm OK, thanks, I suppose…” She halted, adopted a pained expression, and sighed. “Though, I wonder if you could do me a favor?”

“Sure,” said Cassie.

How amenable she is, Ivy observed, agreeing to a request without knowing its nature. “Only I've got
terrible
period pains.”

“You poor thing.”

Ivy clutched her abdomen. “I'll live.” She leaned against the sink, as if she could scarcely keep herself upright. “It's one of those things,” she said bravely. “Some months are worse than others. If I didn't have to get those damn headlines done, I'd have come in later…” Menstruation was such a handy excuse. Even in this day and age, most people were too embarrassed to question symptoms.

Cassie peered at her. “You don't look great.”

Cheeky cow! “I don't feel great.”

“You're
ever
so pale.”

“I was wondering…”

“Did you want me to get you something?”

“Ooh, yes, if you don't mind.”

“Hang on—I might have some aspirin in my bag.”

Blast—that wouldn't do at all. “Oh no,” Ivy said rapidly. “Not painkillers. I avoid drugs whenever possible—they're not good for you.” She calculated at the speed of light. “I was hoping you might get me some Rescue Remedy. It's much more natural—made from flowers—I swear by it.” Did she hell. She wasn't even sure what it was for, though she seemed to remember Ursula saying it helped her calm down.

“Right.” But Cassie appeared worried. “Where can I buy that?”

“I think they have it at the pharmacy on Broadwick Street,” said Ivy.

“Not at Boots?”

Boots was nearer. “No, I'm pretty sure they don't.”

“Oh.”

“The shop's called Zest.” Ivy flinched in pain. “It's on the corner, with a bright front. You'll find the herbal remedies at the back.”

“I haven't got any money…”

“I do.” Ivy let go of her stomach to hand Cassie the fiver she'd been clutching. “That should be plenty.”

“OK.” Cassie took the bill and put away her comb. “I'll just get my jacket.”

“No!” Ivy snapped, and hastily added, “I wouldn't bother—it makes it obvious you're going out of the office.”

“I suppose.” Cassie didn't think to argue that getting medicine for a colleague might qualify as a good reason. “All right then, I'll see you in a minute.”

More like ten, thought Ivy, and returned to her desk.

*   *   *

Orianna was about to tuck into a breakfast muffin when she had a call on her internal line. Her swish new phone declared who was calling.

“Ivy, hi.”

“Am I interrupting? It won't take a sec.”

“What is it?”

Ivy sighed. “It's just I'm having some problems with the headlines for those travel offers, Orianna, and I wondered if you could spare me a moment of your wonderful brain—it's the kind of thing you're so fantastic at.”

Orianna was surprised, yet flattered—it wasn't often Ivy asked for help. “Sure, do you want to come by?”

“Can you come to me? Cassie's nipped out, but they're all up on my screen and the printer's jammed.”

Funny, thought Orianna, the printer looks to be working from here—she could see Leon waiting for his run-outs to emerge as they spoke.

Ivy added, “It's some problem with my machine. The guys from tech support are coming to fix it but I need to e-mail these off as soon as possible.”

“Ah, right.” Orianna got to her feet and headed over.

Ivy was sitting at her desk. “Hi.” She smiled.

“Hi.”

Orianna was about to plop herself down on her old chair at Cassie's desk when Ivy said, “Oh, Cassie will be back in a tick, but feel free to clear a space on the sofa.”

Orianna duly turned to take a seat. But just as she was lifting Cassie's jacket to make room, something caught her eye.

She looked at it more closely, heart thumping.

There was a watch, very like Dan's, protruding from a handbag. The bag wasn't Ivy's—Orianna recognized the large Louis Vuitton purse on the floor as the one Ivy always took to the gym—so it must belong to Cassie.

She picked up the watch, examined it. She scrutinized the face.
Paul Smith,
jeered the logo. She started to tremble. She had her back to Ivy, but she could feel her cheeks burning up, her hands going clammy. She could tell Ivy was watching her, eyes boring into her.

Sure enough: “Something the matter?”

“Nothing,” said Orianna quickly. She slipped the watch into Cassie's bag again—and sat down on the sofa, struggling to remain calm.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well.” Ivy was chirpy. “These are the lines I was thinking of. What d'you reckon? They're for holiday discounts. There's this one: ‘One hundred percent Ireland for ten percent less.' And this one: ‘Going Dutch—Holland at half price.' Or how about, ‘A top-dollar US trip for next to nothing'?” She read out several more, but Orianna couldn't think straight, let alone listen.

It's not as if Paul Smith is a common make of watch, she thought. There can't possibly be two of the same in such a small agency. But what on earth is Dan's watch doing in Cassie's handbag? Cassie doesn't go to the gym.

Orianna could make no sense of it at all.

With a lurch, she remembered that the night before, when she'd asked Dan about the watch, he'd gone scarlet. Why had he blushed like that? Was he guilty? What was he hiding? Had he recollected where he must have left it, and concocted some cock-and-bull story, knowing it was with Cassie? It seemed ludicrous, but why else would it be here, in her bag?

She recalled Ivy saying Dan had been hanging around Cassie's desk a lot; and thought how similar Cassie was to Lara, physically. Dan had failed to tell her the exact truth about the Image Focus Christmas party, which meant he was quite capable of deception when it was called for … Then there was his reputation before he met her, the gossip about G-A-Y and his friendship with Rob …

That Orianna had pushed these anxieties aside for weeks meant they all came rushing in at once. What other explanation would there possibly be for Dan taking his watch off? He must have undressed because he'd been
having sex
with Cassie.

Suddenly, Orianna was overcome by violent nausea. She felt giddy and hot; her vision clouded by wavering bright orange lights, and the world seemed weirdly disconnected, as if she were in a bubble. She struggled to get up, but as she did so, the blood rushed from her head; she felt even more peculiar, her feet slipped from under her, her knees buckled …

*   *   *

Ivy leaped to break Orianna's fall. She laid her on the floor, and while she was out cold, extracted the watch from Cassie's bag and slipped it in her own desk drawer. Then, still moving fast, she pulled a copy of
Grazia
from the bookshelf and knelt down. She was fanning Orianna when Cassie returned moments later.

“What's happened?”

“Orianna's fainted.”

“Fainted!”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I'm not sure what brought it on.”

“Should I get someone?” Cassie was most concerned, even panicked.

“No, no.” Tenderly Ivy lifted Orianna's head onto her knee. “She'll be fine, honestly. I've seen this happen to her before.”

“Gosh, really?”

Ivy knew it was hard to imagine someone as robustly built as Orianna frequently fainting, but if anyone could convince Cassie, she could. “I bet she hasn't eaten any breakfast.” Orianna skip a meal? A likely story.

“You should rub her temples.”

“Don't tell me what to do!” barked Ivy.