It May Rain

Chapter Seven

Friday, the best day of the week. Only a few more hours until the weekend where I get a respite from the growing icy atmosphere that's developing at work.

Jacko still has the hump with me about 'phone time' and he's been purposefully looking my way whenever he walks through the room.

Chantelle has been giving me a wide berth, much wider than usual. I came across her in the toilets earlier this morning, exchanged the standard pleasantries, but she practically spat them back in my face before waltzing out of the room. She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

I've no idea why an unanswered email has her so rattled, but I'd say that's more of a her problem than a me problem. Yes I know it wasn't ideal to leave a colleague waiting like that, but we all make mistakes, and she could have just given me a gentle nudge rather than blabbing about it to Jacko. And at the end of the day we both have to work with each other, and all her over the top behaviour has done is create a wedge between us.

For the life of me, I can't understand why she takes her job so seriously. Judging by her designer clothes and remarks about how everything is below her standard in the office, it's obvious she has expensive tastes, and her modest intern salary can barely be covering her expenses. This intern role can't be a lifetime ambition of hers, can it?

Just like the other day, I'm in need of a treat to perk me up, so now it's lunchtime I've decided to stroll over to the coffee shop and spend my lunch hour there.

I've brought my book so I settle into a corner armchair along with a tuna baguette and a latte. I have an hour all to myself, an hour when none of my colleagues have to cross my mind, an hour away from the tireless office politics and an hour where I can lose myself into a world of pure imagination.

"They're out of mince pies unfortunately, but I brought you something else instead."

I slowly peel my eyes away from my book. I know that voice.

"Hugo, fancy seeing you here..." I murmur sarcastically.

"Is this seat free?"

He points to the armchair opposite mine. Before I have time to answer his question he takes a seat in it anyway.

"I'm actually trying to have a quiet lunch break."

I go back to my book, hoping he takes the hint that I'm not in the mood for company.

"Yeah, I feel the same way too. I could really do with some quiet time. It's been a really full on week." He places a paper bag on the table. "Here, I got you something that's guaranteed to taste much better than that chocolate orange monstrosity you got last time."

"What is it?" I ask without looking up.

"Just a chocolate chip cookie. Nothing special, but it's a guaranteed crowd-pleaser."

"Thanks, I'll try it later."

We sit in blissful silence for a while, until he breaks it.

"So how have you been since I last saw you?"

"Orate thanks."

"I like the way you do that," he smirks.

"Do what?"

"Say things in your northern accent. It's really cute. It's so refreshingly different from the London accent."

I look up at him properly for the first time since he turned up. He's got a smouldering smile etched on his face, his kind eyes are gazing at me longingly.

Not once has anyone ever described my accent in an endearing way. I feel my cheeks begin to burn so I quickly hold my book up to cover my face.

"Here you go my love, one chicken chorizo panini to go."

The barista comes over and hands Hugo his order in a paper bag.

"Actually I've changed my mind. Could I get it to eat in?"

***

"Honestly, I don't think I've ever had such a disastrous Christmas!"

Hugo is describing the events of Christmas day to me on our walk back to the office. Apparently the turkey and half the vegetables got burnt, so they ended up ordering takeaway.

"Yeah, it sounds like a total nightmare. It's lucky there was a takeaway open."

"Ah, well in London there's always someone somewhere offering their services, day or night, Christmas or not. It's the beauty of living in the capital city. I imagine things are a bit different where you're from?"

"Yeah, you could say. There'd be no chance of getting a takeaway on Christmas day there."

"I never asked. How was your Christmas? I take it you went back home to see your family?"

"Kind of. I actually just met up with my dad in Manchester and we went to a restaurant for Christmas dinner. I didn't get to see my mum this time around."

"That's a shame. Are your parents divorced too? Mine are and it's such a hassle trying to divide my time equally between them."

"They...yes, they're separated. Not divorced yet, though. They only separated this summer so they're still going through that process."

I haven't told anyone in London about the real reason I moved here, and I don't particularly fancy getting into the nitty gritty details with him either.

"So how is it going covering Susan's work?" I quickly add to change the subject.

"It's a challenge, I won't lie. I'm not covering everything completely, just the stuff that needs to be done in person like stock checks, because I think Helen from head office is able to do the rest virtually. But there's so much to do! They really work you hard over in this office don't they?"

"Yes, they do indeed."

As soon as we reach the factory car park, Chantelle spots us. She's outside the building having a cigarette whilst talking on the phone, but displays her excellent multitasking skills as she still manages to give me a dirty look.

"I'll meet you inside. I'm just going to see how Chantelle's doing."

I should have seen that coming, she is his latest conquest after all.

"Cool," I utter, then carry on walking towards the entrance.

"We're just friends by the way."

I stop in my tracks and turn my head over my shoulder.

"What are you talking about?"

"Me and Chantelle. We're nothing more than just friends."

"Great, good for you," I reply flatly.

And then I start walking again.