Deranged Marriage
pick you up from your office at six.’ Again, I was stunned. He sounded upbeat and assertive. The last time I’d seen him he was convinced his life was over, now he seemed ready to re-start. I just wasn’t sure where I came in. Joe stood by the door, looking gorgeous and impatient.
    ‘OK, I’ll see you there.’ I gave him my office address, hung up and forgot about him.
    *
    The village that Joe grew up in was incredibly pretty. It didn’t tally with him. Joe who drove a black Porsche and always wore black or grey grew up in a flowery haven. It seemed incongruous.
    His parents greeted me as if they’d known me for years. I got the impression that his mum was quite relieved that Joe seemed to be ‘settling down’. He was only thirty-one but she made a few references to his age as if he was older and a confirmed bachelor. Luckily, she didn’t mention grandchildren. I didn’t get to meet his sister, whom I had heard lots about, but had apparently disappeared to her boyfriend’s for New Year’s Eve and hadn’t come back. She was only twenty and her brother and his new girlfriend weren’t of much interest to her. Or not as much interest as the new man in her life. His mother told me all about Hannah, so I felt as if I’d met her. She didn’t have Joe’s ambition or talent, her mum said, which seemed a bit harsh, and she hadn’t shown any interest in leaving home as Joe had done. I think Joe was her shining star, and every time she raved about an achievement of his (from his first swimming badge to his degree), she sparkled, and Joe got more and more embarrassed. I think he was more upset about his ‘cool’ image being thrown out by his doting mother than anything, which was highly amusing.
    After a huge, perfect hangover lunch, Joe and his father cleared up while his mum showed me his baby photos. She was hilarious, really mumsy, whereas his father was fairly quiet, but liked to tell old jokes which made Joe cringe. We all went for a short walk after lunch, where his mother pointed out all the local places of interest: Joe’s school, Joe’s cub hut (really he was a cub), and Joe’s first girlfriend’s house. Then we headed back to London.
    As we drove back I felt as if Joe was more than ever a part of my life. We went back to his flat, where we opened some wine and debated whether we should be gluttonous and have a take-away.
    ‘I’m not sure I should, I might get fat,’ I pointed out.
    ‘Then I’d have to dump you.’
    ‘How shallow,’ I pouted.
    ‘Well I have an image to uphold and you being a fat bird could seriously damage that.’
    ‘I am not a bird.’
    ‘No, you’re lovely.’
    ‘Are we getting really sad?’
    ‘I think so. I can’t stop looking at you.’
    ‘I can’t stop feeling warm.’
    ‘Holly, I love you, I really love you.’ It was time for another kiss. Which again was the cue for my mobile to ring. I not only ignored it, but switched it off.
     

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    ‘Why do you hum when you’re happy?’ Freddie asked.
    ‘Because I’m happy.’
    ‘It’s extremely irritating.’
    ‘Thanks. Freddie can you update me on the latest Zoom proposal? Then I want a meeting with everyone to go over the state of all our accounts. New Year and all that, let’s start it efficiently. I think we’re on top of everything but I need to make sure.’
    ‘My God, happy but still bossy.’
    ‘Freddie, I hate to remind you that I am your boss. Can you rally the troops for after lunch, I’ll get Dixie to sort out a room.’
    I went to check my e-mail. I had a number of e-mails from clients, to which I responded, and about twenty from George. It was confounding. I’d spoken to him the previous day. I had agreed to see him that evening. I was flummoxed by the nature of his communications:
     
    From: [email protected]
    To: Holly Miller
    Subject: Your phone
    Why didn’t you answer your phone last night?
     
    From: [email protected]
    To: Holly Miller
    Subject: Response
    I would

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