‹ Prequel: Black Sheep
The Other Woman
Chapter Fifteen
My heels clicked as I walked through reception. My Cafe Nero coffee still piping hot in my paper cup. My phone buzzed a new text. And another and another. Ignoring it, I walked straight into the lift that was being held open for me by a familiar blonde Australian.
“Hi,” he mumbled, starting to circle around notes on his ipad.
“Someone sounds chipper.” I sarcastically smiled, leaning back against the wall of the lift, sipping my coffee. He didn’t reply. My phone buzzed text after text, message after message. I ignored them all, expecting them to be of a ginger haired prince I had attempted to cut out of my life.
“Have you not seen it?” Max spat at me. He passed me his ipad which had an article from the daily mail. The headline said ‘Just Like His Father’. I scrolled down the page to see ‘The Duke of Sussex has taken on a mistress just months after his wedding, like his father did forty years ago’. I felt sick. I didn’t read anymore. I didn’t need to. I held Max’s ipad out to him. “No wonder you didn’t want to go on a second date.” I saw his face drop and his heart break right in front of my eyes. How on earth could I get out of this one?
“Well, you know none of that’s true.” I tested the water. The lift door pinged open on our floor. He snatched his ipad out of my hand and left, his grey coat wafting his aftershave behind him. I would have given anything for the lift to close there with me in it and not let me out until it had all blown over, but my growing claustrophobia pushed me out of the silver mirrored lift and out into the real world.
I walked through the office past each row of desk. Many heads were turned towards their respective computer screens but one group of faces snapped up to me as soon as they caught a glimpse of straight hair: it was Hillary and her gaggling flock of news reporters. I could see her perfectly sprayed hair wobble at the turn of her head, followed by the flicks of hair from Araminta, Margot and Hattie. Their hair was almost identical to each others’; in a style that aimed at Kate’s but missed the bar and looked more ‘caught in a gale’ than ‘windswept’. Their faces snapped back to the circle they had made themselves, claiming a patch of the office for their own. I made it to my desk with a sigh and sat down, logging on and preparing for the morning’s briefing.
…
“Have I missed it yet?” The apartment door flew open.
“Missed what?” I was organising some logistics for a new project Sentebale were planning on starting.
“The rugby!” Harry had taken his tie off in the car and was slipping off his suit jacket as he closed the front door behind him. I rolled my eyes and switched off Radio 2 and let Harry change the channel to watch what was left of the rugby match. “Thank God for that!” He saw the timer on the top of the screen read that the second half of the match had only just begun. He kicked off his shoes and slumped down on the sofa, crossing his feet on top of the coffee table.
“Do you mind?” I had spent all morning cleaning the apartment. He was too engrossed in the game to even listen to me. His eyes darting across the screen as the ball was kicked forward and passed pack.
….
“I think we need a chat.” Roger said from behind me. His voice was cold and straight to the point. I nodded, following him into his office. I sat as he closed the door behind us. “What’s this about then?” On his desk were copies of each national newspaper that covered the story in various different ways. The Independent were asking if it were right I was labeled as a ‘mistress’ while the Daily Star were more interested in what dirty goings on could have happened.
“I,” I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I know it’s difficult.” Roger sipped at his coffee while we sat in silence. “I’m not concerned that this will affect us; we won’t run the story anyway. I’m more worried about you.”
“About me?” I was almost offended that Roger thought I needed looking after.
“This isn’t just you spotted with someone, but Rebecca,” I know I was in trouble when he used my name, just like my mum did, “you’re seeing a married man.” I remembered everything that I had learned when I was Harry. The number one rule: aggressively deny everything.
“Roger, I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but do you really trust the papers over me?” He looked confused “Because I don’t see any actual evidence that I have slept with anyone, especially my ex-boyfriend.”
“But the pictures?” He was confused.
“Well what can you see in the pictures?” He looked like I had handed him the axe to take my head off with.
“The two of you in the pub together. The pub in your village.” He raised his eyebrows.
“And?” I crossed my leg over the other and settled into the chair, waiting for his response.
“The two of you were on a date.” I could tell he was losing his battle.
“We were actually discussing charity endeavours.” Roger spat, laughing. Had I tried too hard to deny it? “Sentebale are starting in Botswana and I said I would love to go.” He nodded, finally accepting my argument.
“Look, I couldn’t care less but they’re baying for your blood.”
“And ‘they’ are?”
“I can’t disclose that.”
“Is it Hillary’s team?” I knew it as soon as I had seen their faces that morning.
“I can’t disclose that information.” He mumbled, looking at some notes in front of him. He looked up and quickly nodded at me. I took a steadying breath. I didn’t have a temper but I was close to losing it. “I need to do something. And after the accident,”
“You can’t sack me for having an accident at work.”
“You weren’t at work, that was on your own time. And you went against my orders.” He started raising his voice.
“Your orders? Who do you think you are?” I spat, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Your boss!” He spat. I’m sure I heard people stop typing outside.
“You do not control my life Roger.”
“Maybe someone should!” He shouted, standing to open the door for me.
“What decade do we live in?” Roger was confused. “Because right now I feel like I’m living in the 50s.” I’m sure the whole office had heard me. “I’m being punished for something I haven’t even done! As a woman I’m given the shove at the slightest possibility that I had sex with someone that is married.” I walked towards the door, raising my voice to make sure everyone heard. “When really Roger, we both know about yours and Hillary’s affair.” I had know about it for months, but as the ‘quiet one’ in the office, I waited until I needed to use such information.
“We’ll send your P45 in the post.” Seething, I walked to my desk, picked up my bag and coat and straight out of the office with my head held as high as I could.
“Hi,” he mumbled, starting to circle around notes on his ipad.
“Someone sounds chipper.” I sarcastically smiled, leaning back against the wall of the lift, sipping my coffee. He didn’t reply. My phone buzzed text after text, message after message. I ignored them all, expecting them to be of a ginger haired prince I had attempted to cut out of my life.
“Have you not seen it?” Max spat at me. He passed me his ipad which had an article from the daily mail. The headline said ‘Just Like His Father’. I scrolled down the page to see ‘The Duke of Sussex has taken on a mistress just months after his wedding, like his father did forty years ago’. I felt sick. I didn’t read anymore. I didn’t need to. I held Max’s ipad out to him. “No wonder you didn’t want to go on a second date.” I saw his face drop and his heart break right in front of my eyes. How on earth could I get out of this one?
“Well, you know none of that’s true.” I tested the water. The lift door pinged open on our floor. He snatched his ipad out of my hand and left, his grey coat wafting his aftershave behind him. I would have given anything for the lift to close there with me in it and not let me out until it had all blown over, but my growing claustrophobia pushed me out of the silver mirrored lift and out into the real world.
I walked through the office past each row of desk. Many heads were turned towards their respective computer screens but one group of faces snapped up to me as soon as they caught a glimpse of straight hair: it was Hillary and her gaggling flock of news reporters. I could see her perfectly sprayed hair wobble at the turn of her head, followed by the flicks of hair from Araminta, Margot and Hattie. Their hair was almost identical to each others’; in a style that aimed at Kate’s but missed the bar and looked more ‘caught in a gale’ than ‘windswept’. Their faces snapped back to the circle they had made themselves, claiming a patch of the office for their own. I made it to my desk with a sigh and sat down, logging on and preparing for the morning’s briefing.
…
“Have I missed it yet?” The apartment door flew open.
“Missed what?” I was organising some logistics for a new project Sentebale were planning on starting.
“The rugby!” Harry had taken his tie off in the car and was slipping off his suit jacket as he closed the front door behind him. I rolled my eyes and switched off Radio 2 and let Harry change the channel to watch what was left of the rugby match. “Thank God for that!” He saw the timer on the top of the screen read that the second half of the match had only just begun. He kicked off his shoes and slumped down on the sofa, crossing his feet on top of the coffee table.
“Do you mind?” I had spent all morning cleaning the apartment. He was too engrossed in the game to even listen to me. His eyes darting across the screen as the ball was kicked forward and passed pack.
….
“I think we need a chat.” Roger said from behind me. His voice was cold and straight to the point. I nodded, following him into his office. I sat as he closed the door behind us. “What’s this about then?” On his desk were copies of each national newspaper that covered the story in various different ways. The Independent were asking if it were right I was labeled as a ‘mistress’ while the Daily Star were more interested in what dirty goings on could have happened.
“I,” I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I know it’s difficult.” Roger sipped at his coffee while we sat in silence. “I’m not concerned that this will affect us; we won’t run the story anyway. I’m more worried about you.”
“About me?” I was almost offended that Roger thought I needed looking after.
“This isn’t just you spotted with someone, but Rebecca,” I know I was in trouble when he used my name, just like my mum did, “you’re seeing a married man.” I remembered everything that I had learned when I was Harry. The number one rule: aggressively deny everything.
“Roger, I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but do you really trust the papers over me?” He looked confused “Because I don’t see any actual evidence that I have slept with anyone, especially my ex-boyfriend.”
“But the pictures?” He was confused.
“Well what can you see in the pictures?” He looked like I had handed him the axe to take my head off with.
“The two of you in the pub together. The pub in your village.” He raised his eyebrows.
“And?” I crossed my leg over the other and settled into the chair, waiting for his response.
“The two of you were on a date.” I could tell he was losing his battle.
“We were actually discussing charity endeavours.” Roger spat, laughing. Had I tried too hard to deny it? “Sentebale are starting in Botswana and I said I would love to go.” He nodded, finally accepting my argument.
“Look, I couldn’t care less but they’re baying for your blood.”
“And ‘they’ are?”
“I can’t disclose that.”
“Is it Hillary’s team?” I knew it as soon as I had seen their faces that morning.
“I can’t disclose that information.” He mumbled, looking at some notes in front of him. He looked up and quickly nodded at me. I took a steadying breath. I didn’t have a temper but I was close to losing it. “I need to do something. And after the accident,”
“You can’t sack me for having an accident at work.”
“You weren’t at work, that was on your own time. And you went against my orders.” He started raising his voice.
“Your orders? Who do you think you are?” I spat, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Your boss!” He spat. I’m sure I heard people stop typing outside.
“You do not control my life Roger.”
“Maybe someone should!” He shouted, standing to open the door for me.
“What decade do we live in?” Roger was confused. “Because right now I feel like I’m living in the 50s.” I’m sure the whole office had heard me. “I’m being punished for something I haven’t even done! As a woman I’m given the shove at the slightest possibility that I had sex with someone that is married.” I walked towards the door, raising my voice to make sure everyone heard. “When really Roger, we both know about yours and Hillary’s affair.” I had know about it for months, but as the ‘quiet one’ in the office, I waited until I needed to use such information.
“We’ll send your P45 in the post.” Seething, I walked to my desk, picked up my bag and coat and straight out of the office with my head held as high as I could.