The Truce (London Suits 1)
“Shitshitshit,” she said under her breath, panic written all over her face, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“I’d better go,” she squeaked out, avoiding my gaze. “Argh!”
I watched in amusement as she flew across my flat, almost skidding into the door in her haste to leave. She pulled on her shoes and shot out of the door, throwing a breathless “bye” over her shoulder.
Lying back on the sofa with a groan, I glanced at my watch. 6:10 a.m. Too early to get up. I closed my eyes.
A ringing woke me.
I swiped my phone to answer the call, grabbing my glass of water and taking a large gulp to lubricate my throat. “Hello?”
“Hey, mate, how are things?” Ethan asked carefully.
“Could be better, to be honest,” I sighed. Although I’d been bracing myself for the news of Martha’s passing for a while, it had been a shock when the news had come. How can you ever prepare for the death of a loved one? How do you come to terms with the fact that you’ll never hear their voice again? Never pick up the phone to call them, or drop in for a visit just to see their face? I felt as if a piece of me had been ripped away, leaving me raw and bleeding.
“Listen, take today off work as well. Take some time to clear your head. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait, what about all my outstanding work? And—oh, shit, it was the Delny meeting yesterday.” I groaned, rubbing my forehead.
“Don’t worry about that, mate. Olivia took care of it. She smashed it, in fact.” His voice warmed. “I’m proud of what you guys have achieved in such a short time.” He continued speaking. “I’ve planned a meeting with Olivia to go through the changes I think you should make, and I’ll email you the minutes and my notes later so you can keep up to date.”
Gratitude filled me. “Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” he said gruffly. “See you tomorrow.”
As I ended the call, I saw I had messages from Alex and Avery, offering their condolences. I sent them both a quick thanks, then scrolled to Payne’s name. She was saved in my contacts as “Pain.” I felt a sudden stab of guilt. She’d been amazing yesterday. I’d been lost in sorrow, and she’d turned up and offered herself as my lifeline. She’d seen me at my lowest point and hadn’t flinched; instead she’d provided me with comfort, despite the awful way I’d treated her in the past. She hadn’t offered me empty platitudes. She’d been exactly what I needed.
I edited her name, changing it to “Payne,” then sent a message.
Me: Thanks for yesterday. It meant a lot to me.
She replied about ten minutes later, no doubt having just got to work.
Payne: Any time. I mean it. Sorry I rushed out, felt a bit awkward TBH. One minute we’re enemies, the next we’re sleeping together.
I laughed to myself.
Me: Sleeping together? ;)
Payne: Ha ha. You know what I meant!!!
Me: I’m messing with you. Look, I don’t see you as an enemy. Far from it. Friends?
Payne: I’d like that.
Me: Good. Glad we’ve cleared
that up.
Payne: Better go, got a meeting with Ethan in 5 mins. Message me any time tho.
Me: Thanks Payne. Appreciate it.
I plugged my phone in to charge and had a shower, feeling a little more human than before. I made the call to Martha’s son, Graham, that I’d been putting off. He was living in Dubai but had arranged a flight back to the UK as soon as he’d received the news of her passing. I offered my condolences, and he said he’d contact me as soon as funeral arrangements had been made with the nursing home. I’d met him once or twice in the past, but he’d already moved to Dubai when I first got to know Martha.
Sadness overwhelmed me again. Martha had been ninety-two when she passed, only a month away from her ninety-third birthday. She’d had a long life, a good life from everything I knew about her, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t miss her badly. She was the closest thing to a real family I’d known.
After wandering around my flat aimlessly, I went for a long run to try to clear my head, my feet pounding the paths near my house as dance music blared through my headphones. Memories of Martha played through my mind on a never-ending loop.