Peggy put the photo back in her bag.
“I’d invite you to come up too, but I assume you’ll be busy with the family.”
“Ermm, well . . .” Andrew floundered, trying to think on his feet. It had seemed like a genuine invitation from Peggy, not simply out of politeness. “I’ll have to check,” he said, “but, actually . . . Diane was planning to take the kids down to visit her mum that week. In Eastbourne.”
“And you’re not going too?” Peggy said.
“No, probably not,” Andrew said, willing his brain into gear. “I, um, don’t really get on with Diane’s parents. Bit of a long story.”
“Oh?” Peggy said. She wasn’t going to let him finish there, clearly, but this wasn’t something that had ever made it to Andrew’s master spreadsheet.
“It’s a bit complicated, but basically her mum never approved of us getting together in the first place, because I was always seen as a bit unsuitable. So we’ve never really been able to see eye to eye and it just causes tension whenever we meet.”
Peggy went to say something, then stopped.
“What?” Andrew said, a little too defensively, panicking at the thought that she wasn’t convinced by this story.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just, I can’t imagine you being deemed unsuitable,” she said. “You’re far too . . . nice . . . and . . . you know . . .”
Andrew really didn’t know. He took advantage of Peggy’s being flustered for once and thought about what he should do. The simplest option would be to stay at home and avoid further questions about his family life. But there was just something about the idea of getting to spend a whole week with Peggy—on what felt like an adventure, too—that was too exciting and scary a prospect to miss. If this wasn’t going out of his comfort zone, then what was? He had to go for it.
“Anyway,” he said, as casually as possible, “I’ll have a think about Northumberland. There’s a good chance I can come and it, er, wouldn’t be weird or anything, for me to do that, would it.”
He hadn’t quite thought this last bit through, and it came out halfway between a normal question and a rhetorical one. Peggy seemed like she might be about to answer but luckily someone at a neighboring table knocked an entire pot of tea onto the floor, whereupon five members of staff appeared from nowhere and cleared up the mess with the efficiency of Formula 1 mechanics in the pit lane, and the moment passed. Peggy seemed to use the distraction to do some weighing up of her own. “If you’re free then you should definitely come,” she said, once the pit lane crew had done their cleanup. Andrew recognized that tone. It was the way someone spoke when they were trying to convince themselves as much as the person they were talking to that what they were suggesting was a good idea.
They left the café and walked most of the way back to the office without speaking. Andrew glanced at Peggy, saw her furrowed brow and knew that like him she was replaying the conversation from the café over in her mind. They crossed at some lights and stepped around either side of a woman with a pram. When they came back together their arms bumped and they both apologized at the same time, then laughed at their politeness, the tension of the silence broken. Peggy raised an eyebrow at him. It seemed like such a daring gesture, to Andrew. As if she was on the verge of acknowledging what they were both thinking about the trip, that it was much more important to both of them than they were letting on. Furthermore, Andrew had the sudden realization that it was, in fact, one of the most spectacularly perfect eyebrows he’d ever seen, and that his heart was starting to beat uncomfortably fast.
“So what’s Barter Books like, then?” he said, trying to restore normality to the conversation.
“Oh, it’s amazing,” Peggy said. She was attempting to put her coat on but was having a hard time finding one of the armholes. “It’s a huge old place, rows and rows of books, comfy sofas dotted around.”
“Sounds lovely,” Andrew said. For some reason, putting one foot in front of the other had become an impossible task. Was this really how he walked? It seemed so unnatural.
“It really is,” Peggy said, finally getting her arm through the coat sleeve. “It used to be a station and they’ve kept the waiting room and turned it into a café. The best part is there’s a model train that runs all the way round the shop above the bookshelves.”
Andrew stopped dead in his tracks before hurrying to catch Peggy up.
“Say that again?”
— CHAPTER 16 —
To Andrew’s dismay, the trip was nearly scuppered before they’d even booked train tickets.
Cameron, for reasons that were unclear, had taken to getting people’s attention by whistling at them. At first it had been a sharp, enthusiastic toot. But recently, in parallel with his mood, the whistle had become a low, melancholy sound, like a farmer instructing his sheepdog on its last outing before it was to be put down.
It was by this method that Andrew was beckoned into Cameron’s office. There were folders and documents all over the place, and he had to gather a bunch of them up and move them off a chair so he had somewhere to sit. Distressingly, Andrew realized the office had started to resemble a room he might usually find himself searching through with surgical gloves and a litter picker.
“Rightio then, Drew,” Cameron said. “This holiday you’ve booked. In future please check with the others in the team about timings because Peggy’s away at the same time and that’s just not ideal. Please just be a bit more nimble about things, okay? It’s so easy to cascade this sort of thing.”
“Ah right, yes,” Andrew said. He and Peggy hadn’t deliberately concealed the fact they were going away together, but Andrew couldn’t help but enjoy how illicit that seemed to make it. He realized that Cameron was looking at him expectantly.
“I’ll check next time,” he said quickly.
“Good. Thanks,” Cameron said.
Andrew hoped that was going to be the end of it, but the next day he was at his desk when he heard raised voices coming from Cameron’s office. “It’s just absolutely outrageous,” Meredith was saying, with typical understatement. “I’m sorry, literally the last thing I like doing is complaining, but you can’t just turn around to me and say I can’t take holiday when I want to, that’s against my rights. I don’t see why Andrew and Peggy can just swan off at the same time and I can’t. It’s ludicrous. It’s completely unfair.”
Cameron followed her out, wringing his hands with an alarmingly tight-looking grip.
“As I have told you, Meredith,” he said, his voice ominously quiet, “you can take a holiday. I have just asked you not to go away the one week Peggy and Andrew are.”
“Well how was I supposed to know when they were away? I’m not Mystic Meg, am I?”
“You’re supposed to plan in advance and look at the log,” Cameron said.
“What?”
“THE LOG! THE FUCKING LOG!”
Cameron covered his mouth with his hands, seemingly more shocked than anyone about his outburst. It was at that point that Keith wandered into the office, humming something a semitone out of tune and brandishing a heart attack between two slices of bread. He looked at them in turn and took a massive bite, ketchup dripping onto his chin.
“What have I missed?” he said.
Andrew got to his feet. He had to act quickly so the trip wasn’t endangered. “Look, I think what Cameron was trying to say, Meredith, is that we just need to make sure this log . . . thing . . . is filled out from now on. It’s a bit of miscommunication, that’s all. I’m sure he didn’t mean to shout. Right, Cameron?”
Cameron looked at Andrew as if only just realizing he was there. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, that’s right. Tough week. Clara and I . . . Not that I want to get into all that business but . . . I’m sorry.”