Lessons in Love

Ray looked back over his shoulder at her and smiled again, all big blue eyes and bonhomie. Jane still couldn’t quite call it one way or the other.

‘Let’s just sort out that coffee and then we can get you started. Oh, by the way, I’ve had our guys draw up your contract and there are a few other things for you to sign. There are different levels of access online. Jayne’s got most clearance obviously—presumably she set you up with a username and password?’

Jane nodded.

Ray paused. ‘Good. How are you fixed for supper?’

She stared at him. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I thought we might pop out after work today for an early supper. I booked us a table at Carters—thought it would be nice to celebrate your launch.’

‘Well…’ Jane began.

‘Nothing too late—say six thirty?’

Jane didn’t know quite how to respond. Which Ray took as a yes.

‘Good. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of food, Jayne is supposed to be going to a dinner later in the week—Thursday, I think. You don’t mind going, do you? I think she’s expected to do a little presentation. I’ve got the script here somewhere. It’s just a trade thing.’

Jane hesitated but was determined not to look rattled or outgunned. ‘Oh—OK…I’ve done presentations before at the library. But I’m not sure that I can…’

‘It’ll be fine. I’ll email the speech over to you with the details. I wouldn’t labour the point about Jayne not being there.’ He paused. ‘I’m sure she’s already told you that she’s a little wary about letting people know she’s taking a sabbatical so unless someone asks directly…’ He smiled. ‘Although I suppose technically you are Jane Mills.’

‘Will you be there?’ asked Jane.

‘If I can, but it looks like I’m probably double-booked. It’ll be fine though. They’ll send a car for you.’ He smiled again. ‘So here we are—your first day with us.’

Jane nodded; her first day as a junior officer, she thought ruefully looking at the screen Ray had opened up on the computer. Data input, checking names and addresses was a bit like stuffing envelopes, and that, along with the proofreading, was the kind of thing you’d give someone on work experience from the local comprehensive. She felt she couldn’t say anything, however. After all, how would it look if she moaned about the first job he gave her?

Something didn’t feel right but she wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was that she was feeling overwhelmed. Or maybe it was just first-day nerves; maybe she was up herself; maybe Ray was being genuinely kind—maybe. He poured her a coffee from the machine.

‘There we go. Milk’s in the fridge. That’s the thing that looks like a cupboard under the coffee machine, and sugar is in the drawer there. Do you mind if I smoke?’ As he passed her the cup his hand seemed to linger for just an instant too long on hers. Had she imagined it? Jane suppressed a shiver.

‘No, you’re fine,’ she said.

Ray’s smile held. ‘Not cold are you, m’dear?’

‘No, just a bit nervous, that’s all. First-day nerves—you know.’

‘Well, don’t be nervous. We run a very happy ship here. Jayne’s always seen to that. I don’t know how well you know her but she is the most amazing woman.’

Jane added a little milk to her coffee, not quite sure what he was expecting her to say.

As if reading her mind he continued, ‘I know what I’ve asked you to do looks like pretty menial stuff but as far as I’m concerned your being hired has come out of the blue—not that I mind; oh, no, with Jayne I’ve had to learn to be flexible—but if I’d known Jayne was bringing someone in we could have devised a more coherent strategy. So, this will out Jayne’s business until we work out exactly what to do with you. To be perfectly honest I don’t really know how she fills her time on a day-to-day basis, so if you start with something that really needs doing, we’re both going to have to make the rest of it up as we go along.’

He lifted his coffee cup in salute. ‘To the new Jane Mills.’

Jane tried out another smile and Ray beamed back.

Maybe she was being oversensitive, worried that the job was too good to be true. Maybe it was going to be all right after all.

‘To the other Jayne Mills,’ she said.

Meanwhile, the other Jayne Mills set her handbag down on one of the unforgiving airport seats and stared up at the departure board to check the flight times. She felt strangely nervous. Although she’d been flying round the world for the best part of twenty-five years, this flight felt special. She smiled. Twenty-five years—it seemed impossible. Then she had never imagined herself ever being this old.

The airport clock rolled over another minute. Another fifteen minutes and they would start boarding. Jane tucked the boarding pass into her jacket pocket and then glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see Andy loping towards her through the crowd, in his famous baggy blue shorts, a rucksack slung casually across broad shoulders, long blond hair flapping like unruly wings. Catching herself, Jayne smiled and let the ghost fade away. There was no Andy, no long blond hair, just an appraising and appreciative look from a good-looking guy in a suit from behind a copy of the Telegraph.

She smiled back while reminding herself that this wasn’t about the past, it was about the future. Her future. A bright shiny new future. This was about looking at where she had been to try to make sense of where she wanted to go next, and where better place to start than in Kos?

Kos—Jayne let the word linger in her mind and then very slowly roll over her tongue. It was a word heavy with memories of newly baked bread, and honey and olives and creamy feta cheese. Kos, so very ordinary now, but so unfamiliar then. Hardly a great adventure, hardly exotic in the twenty-first century, but all those years ago it had seemed so very far away, and so very foreign. Now it was just another short-haul flight, barely a hop across a globe that she had crossed and recrossed God knew how many times since. But then it had seemed a million miles away for a hick from the sticks.

So, while Greece might not appear the bravest of starts to an outsider, it had been the first step on her journey all those years ago, so what better place to start again now?

In a homage to travels past she had booked into economy class, and having toyed with the idea of taking pot luck on arrival, in the end had succumbed and booked into a little hotel in Kefalos old town, at the far end of the island of Kos, a steep climb away from the night life and the bars.

The taxi dropped her off at her hotel in late afternoon, and once she had booked in Jayne dropped her things in her room, and made her way back down the hill, down steep flights of steps to the beach, past the little church with its white walls, pale blue dome and roof, surrounded by trees and a field of what looked like cotton. Everywhere was remarkably green, despite the heat, the steep hillsides covered in low bushes and shrubs that followed the sharp rocky contours of the bay. She had forgotten how breathtaking the view was.

Below the old town of Kefalos, new bars and tourist restaurants lined the beach like a string of bright beads, colourful flotsam and jetsam stranded at the high-water mark, and windsurfers and sailing dinghies cut back and forth across the glittering water on the edges of the sun-warmed wind.

Once she got onto the coarse gritty sand Jayne slipped off her sandals and walked along the water’s edge, down past the sleeping cafés and shady restaurants, down past the boat-hire shops towards a little island caught in the curled arm of the bay. Although the sun was well past its zenith it was still wonderfully warm, the waves reflecting the sunlight like the shards of a broken mirror.

The beach was completely empty except for a handful of locals swimming and windsurfing on the wind-ruffled sea where the harbour met the beach.

Jayne stretched, relishing the sensation of the warm breeze on her face, dropped her towel onto the sand and, slipping off her sandals and thin cotton dress, stepped naked into the welcoming water. Not that anyone saw or cared.

It felt like a cool caress over her body and was the perfect antidote to the long wait at the airport, the flight and the taxi ride from Kos town to her hotel. Jayne sighed and shimmied beneath the waves, the chill making her shiver, and then very slowly she rolled over onto her back, looking up into the cloudless azure blue sky. Kos. Still here after all these years. It felt as if her soul was slowly uncurling. She smiled, with an odd sense of coming home. It had been a good choice.

* * *

In Buckbourne, Ray helped himself to another olive from the little dish on the table and smiled. The restaurant was quiet.

‘So, why don’t you tell me some more about yourself?’ he asked. ‘What sort of things do you enjoy?’

Jane blinked as he carried on topping up her wine glass. She didn’t make a habit of drinking straight after work and this was her second, but after a day spent crosschecking names and addresses and postcodes for customers with special interests, unusual delivery instructions and various complaints, she hadn’t refused when Ray suggested they share a bottle and a toast to her first day with the company. The first glass had slipped down nicely, and—with Jane having had only a sandwich for lunch—had gone straight to her head.

‘Jayne tells me that you worked in the library before joining us. What brought you to the area? Is your partner local?’

The glasses seemed big and Jane was almost certain Ray hadn’t topped his up.

‘No, actually I don’t have one,’ Jane heard herself saying. It felt like he was asking way too many questions anyway. ‘Not at the moment.’

‘Really? I find that very hard to believe,’ said Ray, beckoning the waiter over. Since they had arrived the menus had sat unopened between them on the table.

‘Actually I’ve just come out of a relationship,’ Jane said, not meeting his eye.

‘Really? Ah, well, may I offer my condolences. But you know what they say about getting back in the saddle. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a replacement,’ Ray said brightly.

Jane stared at him. He made Steve sound like a washing machine.

‘Now, what do you fancy? The seafood here is absolutely superb.’ He barely paused for breath. The waiter stood by the table, with his pen hovering over a pad, and Ray’s next remarks were aimed squarely at him.

‘How about we start with the goat’s cheese soufflé—for two—and then we’ll have the paella. And I think we’ll have another bottle of white with that—the Chenin Blanc and salad, maybe the green salad with poached nectarines that sounds rather nice, don’t you think?’

It was entirely a rhetorical question. Jane stared across the table at him; she hadn’t even had a chance to look at the menu, let alone choose. Meanwhile, the waiter was busy scribbling down the order, and far from feeling flattered or protected or in safe hands, Jane felt annoyed—or at least she would have been if it hadn’t been for the wine. Before she could protest the waiter had vanished off towards the kitchen.

‘Now,’ said Ray leaning a little closer, ‘where were we? Oh, I know, you were going to tell me all about what brought you to Buckbourne.’

‘Was I?’ snapped Jane.

Ray laughed. ‘I can see why Jayne thought you’d fit in,’ he said.

Jane stared at him, wondering what the hell he was going on about.

The meal was delicious but he seemed odd. For a start Ray appeared to be totally enthralled by her every word. He insisted she have a liqueur after dinner, and although Jane declined she had a strange feeling that there was booze in the coffee. This was hardly the nice shiny start she had anticipated. Looked like getting drunk during the day was getting to be a habit.

‘How about I call you a cab?’ Ray said while he was settling the bill. ‘Unless of course you’d prefer to come back to the office and have some coffee? You look like you could use some.’

Jane hesitated for a moment or two as Ray waved the waiter over to take his card.

Chapter Five

Jane very, very slowly opened her eyes, struggling to get her bearings. It was almost dark and she had the most terrible hangover. Even her eyelashes ached. Although as she looked around the room it occurred to her that that might very well be the least of her worries. Oh my God, moaned a voice in her head, when she found she was naked in a strange bed in a strange room with the headache from hell.

Oh my God, oh my God, screamed her conscience, never one to hold back on melodrama when the occasion warranted it. Surely to goodness she hadn’t gone back to the office with Ray? Surely, even given her patchy track record vis-à-vis men she hadn’t ended up stark naked and blind drunk in the boss’s bed on her first day in a new job? Surely not.

Jane scurried through her memories, trying desperately to recall exactly what had happened. She could remember the wine, remember eating supper, remember coffee, although that was slightly fuzzier, remembered thinking she felt sick—hopefully she hadn’t been. And then? And then…nothing.

Surely she couldn’t have slept all night? She ought to get up. She ought to get up, get dressed and go home.

Jane looked around for her clothes and spotted her suit and blouse hanging neatly over the back of a chair under which were tucked her shoes. Did seducers hang up your clothes? And where the hell was her underwear? Was it clean? Did it match? While her brain busied itself panicking over trivia she heard footfalls on the stairs.

‘Oh my God,’ whimpered her conscience. ‘Oh my God…’ It took Jane a second or two to realise it wasn’t her conscience but her whimpering aloud.

She fought the temptation to hide under the duvet, while across the room the door swung slowly open.

‘So you’re awake then?’ said Gary. He was carrying a tray on which a glass of something opaque and white hissed and bubbled. Beside that stood a pot of tea. ‘You still drunk?’

Jane was torn between resenting his tone and wanting to hug him. Gary didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Drink this and have a shower. I’ll get you something to eat. There’s a robe, and everything else you’ll need is in the bathroom.’

‘How did I end up here?’

‘Because there is a God,’ said Gary grimly, plumping the pillows behind her as if Jane was an invalid. ‘That and the cab driver dropping you off. You were completely off your face. Oh, and before you ask, you undressed yourself. I just tidied up behind you. Has anyone ever told you you’re a messy cow?’

‘I thought I’d gone home with Ray,’ Jane said, concentration elsewhere.

Gary glanced down at her. ‘I must be a terrible disappointment.’

‘God, no—no, not at all. I just can’t believe I got that drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything like that in my life before. I don’t know how I’m going to face him.’ And then she paused as a thought blossomed, closely watched by Gary. ‘You know, I think he got me drunk.’

‘You don’t say?’ said Gary, in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

Jane stared at him. ‘Why didn’t Jayne warn me?’

Gary shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe she thought you two would be perfect for each other.’

Once Gary had gone, Jane very gingerly eased herself out of bed, head pounding, put on the bathrobe and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was all over everywhere, her skin looked awful and her eyes looked worse. Much worse. She considered the row of expensive unguents and creams lined up on the dressing table for a few seconds and then padded silently into the bathroom, turned the shower on full, hung the robe on the door and stepped under the warm bubbling torrent. It hurt. She stood for a long time in the shower, willing it to wash her hangover away.

‘You drowned yet?’ called a familiar voice after ten minutes or so.

Jane swung round, instantly regretting moving so fast. Jayne’s elegant en suite had been built as a wet room, with a big daisy-head shower and a bluey green obscure glass block wall snaking across the room, separating the shower area from the rest of the bathroom. Gary, looking rather like a benign bat through the distortion of the glass, was on the far side clutching the huge fluffy white robe.

‘No, but I wish I had. Have you never heard of invasion of privacy? Do you know you’re worse than my mother?’ she said, reaching around the glass partition and taking the robe.

‘Pity you didn’t take more notice of her then, accepting drinks from strange men. Anything could have happened.’

‘Rather naïvely I didn’t think Ray was a stranger,’ Jane snapped right back, slipping the robe on and tying it tight. It was warm as well as being thick and velvety.

‘In my experience they don’t come much stranger than Ray Jacobson.’

‘Now you tell me,’ she said, padding out through the bubbly water. ‘He’s Jayne’s right-hand man. She said so.’

Gary rolled his eyes heavenwards. ‘Um, yes—Jayne’s got a blind spot when it comes to certain people, Ray being one of them.’

‘I’ve got to work with him.’

‘You should work from here. That way I can keep an eye on you.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. Have you told Jayne about Ray?’

‘She thinks it’s just sibling rivalry. They’ve been together for so long that they finish each other’s sentences. Years. Too many years for her to have any sense of perspective.’

‘Romantically?’

‘Good God no, he likes his meat young and tender.’ As he spoke Gary lifted an eyebrow.

‘That is disgusting.’

‘He doesn’t seem to think so. His last serious girlfriend was nineteen.’

‘Yuck. Because…?’ said Jane, taking the towel Gary handed her for drying her hair.

‘Because any woman over thirty-five can see straight through him. He’s all slime, style and no substance.’

‘And you’re telling me this because?

Gary shrugged. ‘Because Jayne won’t listen to me. And besides, he’s more likely to jump you.’

Jane groaned. ‘Oh, please, don’t. I’m feeling delicate enough as it is.’

‘Although actually you’re probably a little long in the tooth for him,’ Gary continued, looking her up and down.

Jane glowered at him, or at least would have done if it hadn’t made her headache worse.

‘Then why did he get me drunk?’

‘He probably pulls the wings off flies as well. Food is in fifteen minutes,’ said Gary, on his way out of the door.

‘I’ve already eaten.’

He pulled a face.

‘What?’ asked Jane, gently towelling around her hangover.

‘You don’t remember being sick?’

Jane groaned. ‘Oh, no, don’t.’

When she had finished getting dressed Jane headed downstairs. As she crossed the landing she hesitated. Jayne’s office door was ajar.

Jane opened the door wider still, stepped inside and looked around. The room was awash with mellow starlight.

Although she had seen it the previous week it felt different now—calmer, more peaceful. So this was where Jayne worked; this was where Jane could work and live if she wanted to. She switched on a lamp, the room instantly warmed by its soft golden glow, and then gently ran her fingertips over the broad slate desktop. The room was painted the softest cream, with a natural coir carpet and matching linen full-length curtains, pulled back wide to reveal as much of the view out over the park as possible.

Beyond the picture windows in the moonlight, the herd of deer were gathering around the lakeside, the rippling water backed by a stand of trees picked out in silhouette against the skyline. It was an image that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a painting.

Around the room there were cupboards to waist height along one wall, neatly arranged with books and stationery, and box files neatly labelled. Above them hung a Tabitha Salmon painting of gondolas on the lagoon in Venice and a whole gallery of photographs.

Along the other two sides of the room on the slate desktops stood plants, books and catalogues, and Jayne’s Apple Mac. The final wall, with its two large picture windows, was empty, although the deep windowsills were upholstered and had a scatter of gold, blue and red cushions picking up the colours in the painting. Jane looked around, drinking it all in. Working here just had to be better than driving into town every day by about a million miles.

She switched on the lamps above Jayne’s workstation. On the pin board above the desk, between a couple of postcards and some theatre tickets, was a faded black-and-white photo with curled edges; it was of a good-looking guy with shoulder-length blond hair and a smile that lit up his face like a spotlight. It was impossible not to smile back. Without thinking Jane reached out and took the photo down. On the back someone had written, ‘Andy Turner, Beach-Bum of the Year 1982’. Jane’s smile broadened. So this was the man Jayne had run away from. Hard to see why. He was beautiful in a rugged way, and had the kindest eyes.

‘So there you are,’ said Gary, making Jane jump. ‘What do you think then?’ he said, indicating the room.

‘It’s beautiful.’

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