Never Mind The Botox: Rachel (34 page)

‘Amazing really,’ said Shali.

‘Totally,’ agreed Natalie. ‘My projects are never this interesting.’

Rachel had decided not to tell any of the other partners about Carl’s relationship with Audrey. He’d protected her when she’d taken too long to speak up about Lloyd and she knew for certain that it was over between him and Audrey. There seemed little point now. He’d been a bit of idiot, but then so had she! AJ and Rosa had also promised not to say anything and she was pretty sure that she could trust them. Plus, it was hardly in their interests to upset her. With a bit of luck she’d be a director soon.

‘Carl was pretty pleased with how it went, though, in the end,’ said Rachel.

‘I went to see him yesterday about the summer party investigation,’ said Shali.

‘Oh my God, did you! How did it go?’ Rachel asked.

‘Well, apart from being the most embarrassing twenty minutes of my life, not too bad all things considered,’ said Shali. ‘I think he knew that he couldn’t give me too much of a big lecture. But even so, being asked not to shag guests at work events was still pretty awful. I just mumbled a load of stuff about it being out of character and that it wouldn’t happen again and he seemed to believe me.’

Natalie and Rachel exchanged amused glances.

‘What! It won’t,’ said Shali.

‘No, no, of course not,’ said Natalie, shaking her head and winking at Rachel.

‘Not until the next time, anyway,’ said Rachel.

Shali laughed. ‘Shut up, you two! Anyway, I’ve got a written warning for “inappropriate behaviour” that will go on my HR file. But Carl says that should be the end of it, provided I keep my head down.’

‘Oh I’m sure you’ll be very good at that,’ said Rachel, giving Natalie a knowing look.

Natalie snorted with laughter and spat her mouthful of wine across the table.

The three of them giggled hysterically as Natalie mopped up the wine.

‘Anyway, enough about me,’ said Shali, catching her breath. ‘We’re meant to be cheering Rachel up. How’s it going without Harry?’

‘Pretty crap actually,’ said Rachel. ‘Still, no point moaning on about it. I’m better off without him.’

‘And we don’t want to listen to you moaning about it either,’ said Natalie.

‘Here, here,’ said Shali.

The three of them clinked their oversized glasses of red wine together.

‘He was very good looking, though,’ said Shali.

Natalie glared at her. ‘Not helpful.’

‘I was just saying!’

‘Well don’t. Rachel doesn’t need our opinions on him. She’s made her own mind up,’ said Natalie.

‘Yup. I’ve decided he’s a shallow, immature prick,’ said Rachel.

‘Yes, I’m afraid he is,’ said Natalie, nodding.

‘Listen to you! I thought Rachel didn’t need our opinions, you hypocrite,’ said Shali, laughing.

‘I was just agreeing with her. That’s not the same thing,’ said Natalie.

‘Yes it is,’ said Shali.

‘Look, it’s okay, guys,’ said Rachel. ‘The world is still turning. It’s not that big a deal. I’ll get a bit of a break now that Beau Street is pretty much done. Bit of a rest and I’ll be fine.’

‘Ooh, I’ve got a good idea,’ said Natalie. ‘Sue Martin is organising the office sailing race this weekend. She asked me if I wanted to go as a couple of people couldn’t make it due to jobs over-running, but I’ve got a wedding this weekend so had to say no. You should go instead! It sounded brilliant fun.’

‘I don’t know the first thing about sailing,’ said Rachel.

‘That doesn’t matter. Beginners are welcome. There are about six boats in the race, I think. They race round the Solent somewhere for the afternoon and then there’s a big barbecue and disco in the evening. It would be good for you − you know, get out of London, meet a few new people,’ said Natalie.

‘I don’t know, sounds a bit energetic to me. I thought I might go shopping on Saturday,’ said Rachel.

‘Well, think about it,’ said Natalie. ‘I’ll forward you her email. I’m sure they still need a couple more people.’

‘What are you doing Saturday night?’ Rachel asked Shali, thinking that some post shopping company might be good.

‘My sister is up, I’m afraid, and we’re having dinner with Mum and Dad,’ said Shali.

‘Oh, okay, no problem,’ said Rachel. Maybe she would just go home too. After all, she could do with the rest.

‘Look, it’s the department’s quarterly drinks next month. Why don’t we all go to that? Make a bit of a night of it, you know, maybe go to a club after or something. It’s been ages since we have had a really good girls’ night out,’ said Natalie.

‘I’d be up for that,’ said Rachel.

‘Me too,’ said Shali. ‘In the meantime, I think we need another bottle. This one seems to have mysteriously evaporated.’

The next day, Rachel was sitting in the office rather regretting the previous night’s red-wine-athon. She hadn’t actually got home that late, but the combination of the heavy food and forgetting, as usual, to drink enough water had left her feeling jaded and sluggish. As she sat staring at her blurry computer screen trying to decide what work to pretend to do next, she spotted Sue Martin on the other side of the office. Sue was one of those people who bounded about all day as if they’d been injected with caffeine but were, in fact, just annoyingly fit and healthy. She was girl-next-door pretty, with a super practical short bob that she often had tied up into a mini ponytail and, unlike most people, she didn’t end up with bits of hair falling out of it or fuzzy short bits sticking out round her face. Her hair was far too healthy for that. Her skin looked fresh and glowing, and she was wearing hardly any make-up. That morning she made Rachel feel rather bedraggled and slovenly in comparison.

Rachel clicked open the forwarded email from Natalie about the sailing weekend. Maybe Shali and Natalie were right; she did need a bit of break. ‘A weekend of exciting competition, fun and fresh air’ it promised. Rachel took out her compact mirror, attempted to dab away the alcohol shine on her face and then walked over to where Sue was standing chatting with a couple of other people.

‘Hi, Sue, not interrupting, am I?’ Rachel asked.

‘Hi, Rachel. Not at all, we were just gossiping. How are you? I haven’t seen you in the office for a bit,’ said Sue, smiling widely at Rachel.

‘Fine, thanks. I’ve been working out of the office most of the time for the last few weeks. Anyway look, Natalie mentioned to me that you might need a couple more people to make up the numbers for the sailing race this weekend,’ said Rachel.

‘Yes we do. Why, can you come? That would be brilliant!’

‘I’m a total beginner, though. I can’t even row, let alone sail,’ said Rachel.

‘That’s okay, loads of people are beginners. Each of the boats is being skippered by someone from the sailing company that we’ve chartered the boats from. You just need to be able to pull a rope, that’s all,’ said Sue.

‘I think I can just about manage that,’ said Rachel, grinning.

‘Fantastic. I’ll email you all the details − where you need to be, what you need to bring, all that sort of thing. We’re meeting at ten o’clock on Saturday morning at the marina. The directions will be in the email. Is that okay?’ Sue asked.

‘Great, I’ll be there,’ said Rachel.

She felt quite excited when she got back to her desk. Sue’s enthusiasm was infectious. It did sound fun and she felt better now that she had some concrete plans for the weekend and no time to wallow about feeling sorry for herself.

Rachel spent the next hour going through a rather long backlog of emails, including several from IT reminding her that she needed to bring her computer down to the third floor for an urgent security upgrade. Time for a coffee anyway. She would take her computer down and then head out for a coffee afterwards.

It didn’t take long for Rachel to find where she was meant to go on the third floor. Large signs directing her to the IT helpdesk were posted on every available wall space and when she arrived there were at least ten people in front of her. Rachel stood impatiently in the queue. How long could it take to hand a computer in? But as she watched, Rachel realised that the update was being installed while you waited. In front of her two other employees, one guy and one girl, computers in hand, were chatting.

‘So what time do we need to be there again?’ asked the girl.

‘Ten o’clock at the marina,’ said the guy.

Rachel studied them a bit more closely. They must be going on the sailing weekend too. They were both pretty sporty looking types, a bit younger than her but not much. Both had low intensity golden suntans that Rachel assumed came from living an outdoor lifestyle.

‘Don’t forget to bring flares, will you,’ said the guy, nodding seriously at his female companion.

‘No, don’t worry. I’ve already packed them,’ she replied.

‘Good, I did the grab bags last night. I think they should fit quite easily in the starboard lockers,’ said the guy.

‘Oh I’m sure they will. What’s the weather forecast, do you know?’

‘Five gusting six, I think. That should keep us on our toes.’

Flares, grab bags, starboard locker? What were they talking about? It was all very confusing. Rachel hoped that her instructions were at least going to be written in a language she understood. But before she got any more clues, the pair changed the subject and starting discussing a TV programme on sharks that one of them had seen the previous night. Rachel shuffled slowly down with the queue, mulling it over. She knew what flares were. That was easy. She’d seen those white naval uniforms with the flared trousers loads of times on the TV. Starboard she was pretty sure meant either left or right, but she wasn’t sure which. She would have to look it up, along with the other things they’d been talking about. At least then she could try to look like she had a vague idea what was going on.

Once her computer had been injected with a suitable amount of safety software, instead of going out for a coffee Rachel headed back up to her desk. She opened up her instructions and looked at the list of things to bring. No mention of flares, just ‘suitable sailing clothing’. She wondered why the list wasn’t more specific. That guy in the queue had made it pretty clear how important it was to wear flares. Maybe it was part of sailing etiquette, one of the things you were just expected to know.

Next she went online and looked up the definition of a grab bag. It read ‘a bag or holdall that can be grabbed quickly in case of a sailing emergency’. That sounded pretty straightforward. And starboard was right, port was left. Rachel was pretty sure she would remember that. Her dad had always insisted that the bottle of port they had after Christmas lunch was passed to the left.

Feeling pleased with her research, Rachel shut down her computer and headed out for a coffee. As she sat cradling her drink in the coffee shop, thinking about the weekend ahead, she realised that she only had one pair of flares and they were jeans. She was pretty sure that people didn’t sail in jeans. Rachel looked at her watch. She was having lunch with Rowan at one o’clock. If she popped to the shops now, she could just go straight on to meet him afterwards.

Ten minutes later, Rachel was in a cab heading for Oxford Street. There were plenty of white trousers about in the shops to choose from and Rachel soon found a pair. They were made of heavy cotton and had a flat panelled front with four navy buttons doing up the vents at each side. They were perfect! Rachel also found a navy striped, off-the-shoulder, bat-wing t-shirt. It was maybe a bit low-cut for sailing, but it went so perfectly with the trousers she decided she just had to have it. She also managed to pick up a new dress and a pair of shoes that would be perfect for the girls’ night out.

Rowan was already at the restaurant when Rachel arrived laden with bags. They’d opted for a low key brasserie style restaurant down a small back street off Baker Street with small chrome tables set quite close together.

‘Been busy then?’ Rowan asked, watching with amusement as Rachel tried to stuff her bags into the tiny space between her chair and the wall.

‘Oh, you know how it is, just a quick power shop before lunch. Anyway, how are you?’

‘Yeah, good thanks. Working a bit too hard, but otherwise fine,’ said Rowan.

‘Makes a change,’ said Rachel, surveying the long list of complicated looking salads on the menu.

‘Wine?’ Rowan asked.

‘No, I think I’ll have a beer actually. Bit too much wine last night,’ said Rachel, grinning.

‘Maybe you should have water then,’ said Rowan.

‘Good idea, with my beer,’ said Rachel.

Rowan laughed at her. ‘God, what are you like,’ he said.

‘Thirsty,’ said Rachel. ‘How’s Laura? Things going okay?’

Rowan smiled. ‘I’ve got some news actually,’ he said.

‘What sort of news?’ said Rachel, looking slightly alarmed.

‘Laura’s pregnant again,’ said Rowan.

‘What? Oh my God, that’s fantastic.’ Rachel hesitated. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is. We’re both over the moon. You mustn’t say anything, though. It’s still very early days. We only found out this weekend,’ said Rowan.

‘No, of course not,’ said Rachel. ‘Wow, that was quick work. Naomi’s not even one yet!’