Friends Or Lovers Part 20

"Let me put it like this," said Elaine. "If weve not beaten 'the rampant rabbit into second place by next Christmas then Im going to be p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l."

I chuckled. This was pretty risque for IC but it was becoming clear why Dave was prepared to take the unprecedented step of a full product launch. She carried on talking in my ear as the video presentation neared the end.

"You wont see the accessories advertised anywhere in your brochures. Dave thought it might be regarded as distasteful. Its a good hair removal product, much less painful than wax and much more effective than creams. There is a range of 'innovative extensions. Our pilot trials have produced spectacular feedback."

"Cant wait to try mine out!" I said.

We exchanged smiles and a final fanfare alerted the audience to the finale. As the final chord echoed throughout the hall, the blonde looked seductively into the camera and spoke breathlessly.

"Much better than Milk Tray!"

The place filled with roars of laughter and the lights came up. Dave walked back to the microphone and announced that drinks and snacks were available in the lobby. The gift packs could be collected at the exits.

The chatter was interminable but the evening was a success with guests energised and enthusiastic. When the VIPs had been safely escorted home in pre-booked taxis, I pulled Dave to one side for a private word.

"Can we slip out of here - there is something I need to discuss. It cant wait until tomorrow."

Dave nodded, then walked over to Sam and Elaine. He exchanged words with them, shook their hands and spoke with a representative of the PR company.

"Okay were off. They have everything under control."

Chapter 31.

We walked to a nearby bar and settled ourselves into a corner table. Dave bought the first round a real ale for himself, a gin and tonic for me. As soon as he had parked the gla.s.ses on the table, he removed his jacket and loosened his tie.

"No point standing on ceremony," I said. "May as well take it off."

"Ive been wearing these things for 20 years and still hate them."

"You should try wearing high-heels!" I joked.

We spent a few minutes discussing the evening. We both thought it had been a mini-triumph. He confessed that he thought the product was risque for IC, but Harry (the MD) had given him the go ahead. With the company enjoying some success, there was a feeling that a calculated risk was appropriate. It might backfire, but if it did so, the portfolio was now broad enough to weather a set-back. Alternatively, it might catapult the company into the top league.

"You wanted to talk about something?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Ive had quite a day."

I recounted the events, including the lunchtime meeting with John, and Dave reacted in quite a peculiar way.

"John? Whos this John?"

"I met him at the conference in Paris. Not at the actual conference, on the flight home..."

"Is he married?" he interrupted sternly.

"Yes," I said a bit defensively, "Why do you ask?"

His question irritated me.

"Is it wise?"

"Dave! You are married too!" I said trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, but Im a close colleague," he said casting me a bad-tempered glance. "Its different!" he said.

I sat for a few moments wondering why it mattered to Dave. The more I thought about it, the more incensed I got.

"Why is it different?" I said, deciding to defend my friends.h.i.+p with John.

Dave immediately looked a bit put out. Could he be jealous, I wondered?

"Well...I see you all the time. We know each other well."

I thought about how much more John knew about me. For all the time Id spent with Dave, he knew only a fraction of the real me.

"John and I know each other well," I affirmed.

Dave looked at me with surprise and I realised that he may have misinterpreted what I said.

"Work colleagues often go out together. Its just different isnt it?"

"I dont see why," I said firmly. "John and I exchange e-mails as often as you and I talk."

Dave raised his eyebrows.

"Its different, Penny," he said starting to sound defensive.

"How often do you and I go out after work?" I asked. "I didnt even know that your wife had been unwell until you told me recently."

I wished that I could hide my irritation, but it must have been obvious because Dave backed off a bit. I could see in his body language and movements that he felt hurt. As I didnt want the situation to spiral out of control I decided to offer some rea.s.surance.

"Im fond of you, Dave!" I said, and his face lit up again. "How are things at home?"

The smile left his face and his eyes were downcast.

"My parents are with her tonight. I dont think sh.e.l.l ever leave hospital."

"Dyou want to talk about it?" I asked.

He looked up at me and appeared unsure.

"Maybe after another round of drinks..." he said tentatively.

"Lets get this work stuff finished, then Ill get the next round in," I said positively.

Dave listened to the story that unravelled with Mike, Nathan and Elona. I watched him closely as I described Mikes part of the story to see if I could detect anything in his response. He seemed to take it in okay, and concurred with me that I would need his authorisation to fund Mikes housing costs until he could find accommodation elsewhere. He recommended that I see Legal to arrange a three-month tenancy. He promised to e-mail them first thing in the morning.

"When does he want to move in?"

"As soon as possible, I think. Hes shacked up at a hotel at the moment."

Dave gave a small laugh. I dont know why, but I was immediately irritated. Why did he have to laugh like that? Why take pleasure at Mikes marriage breaking down? I didnt expect it of Dave.

"Thanks!" I said with as much sincerity as I could muster.

I downed my gin and tonic then went to the bar to get another round of drinks. I had not been to this place before so I cast my eyes around while waiting to be served. Most of the patrons were in their 30s and 40s. The tables were wooden. They had a natural look about them, not that "manufactured to the nearest tenth of a millimetre" feeling. The edges were jagged and rough, and each table had a bowl in the middle that had the appearance of driftwood, filled with stones. On the wall, there was wood panelling, deliberately unvarnished to fit in with the tenor of the furnis.h.i.+ngs. I liked it.

Drinks in hand, I returned to the table and asked Dave again about the situation at home. He looked awkward and reticent, so I put my hand on his shoulder and encouraged him. His eyes looked down into his lap as he spoke.

"Shes deteriorating," he said. "They give her less than a month. The doctors want to talk to me tomorrow. Im dreading it."

It was difficult to respond. I thought about trying to show deep sympathy, but it was impossible for me to feign feelings that I didnt have. Certainly I cared, but doing the "there, there" routine just was not me. I thought of my father. He had an expression, drawn from his love of cricket: "playing a straight bat".

"What will you say?" I finally responded.

He looked up. I dont think he expected me to ask such a question.

"Er....Im.....Im......" he stopped for a moment.

"Youll have to tell them something, Dave," I continued.

He looked pained and I could not really work out why. Not having had a lover or even a family member in this situation, I wondered if I was being insensitive. The problem, however, was that I didnt know how else to be.

"Im......Im......"

I began to grow tired of his hesitation, but I tried not to show it.

".....torn!"

Finally!

"What are you torn about?"

He gave me a look that was puzzling, as if he thought I might be slightly mad.

"Im torn between helping her die and keeping her alive," he responded brusquely, as if he had noticed my p.r.i.c.kliness and was responding with some of his own.

"Im sorry, Dave, of course!" I felt a bit of a twit but then some words emerged from my mouth that I wished had remained in the darkness of my mind.

"Might it be kinder to let her die?"

He looked at me and I saw tears form in his eyes. I surely should have felt more sympathy for him, but for some reason he was irritating me. For someone approaching forty, he sure was immature. And yet, even as I had these thoughts I heard my fathers voice. 'Whats the deeper meaning here, Penny? I kept asking myself 'why dont I feel more sympathy? Why? The right thing to do at this moment would have been to put my arms around him. I could see his face growing red. A few days ago, I had no problem comforting him. Why was I putting up barriers now?

These thoughts swirled around in my head. I traced my mind back and suddenly realised that his moment of mirth at Mikes situation really infuriated me. But why? "What is the deeper meaning here?" I kept asking myself. There in my mind was my father smiling at me, encouraging me to reflect. Suddenly, the awful realisation hit me. I was evaluating them, deciding which of them would get my sympathy.

When the meeting with Mike had concluded, he found it in him to pay me a compliment. "I can see why Dave hired you," he had said. He had every reason to hate me, but instead he appreciated me. It was generous and I kept thinking I had completely misjudged him. I didnt feel worthy of his respect. The moment Dave took pleasure at Mikes misfortune he lost my respect.

So I sat there and found myself no longer wanting to comfort Dave. I even started to wonder if Dave was playing the sympathy card. Even as I chastised myself for being so uncharitable, I kept asking myself why I felt more sympathy for Mike than Dave. After all, I hardly knew Mike. Why did it matter? Dave broke the silence.

"I dont want to admit that it would kinder to let her die. I cant bear the thought of losing her."

As he said this, I saw his eyes furtively look at mine. That didnt seem right. He was watching me to see how these lines played. I continued with a straight bat.

"It would be kinder, wouldnt it?"

Daves eyes were on me now as we talked and I felt increasingly self-conscious.

"Yes. Unbearable. But kinder!"

It felt incongruous that he was looking deep into my eyes while talking about his wife dying. I fought a gut instinct to get up and walk out. I stopped looking at him but then he spotted my awkwardness.

"Penny? Are you okay?"

I was not sure what to say. I couldnt tell him how I was feeling. My sense of urgency was growing.

"I feel a bit unwell," I said hurriedly. "Just need to go to the loos and then Ill be back. Wait here," I said.

"Okay," he replied.

As I started to get up, I felt his hand touch my back and my body reacted like it had received an electric shock. I was sure he sensed my tension because his hand dropped and eyes looked away. It was an instant reaction and both of us realised what it meant. I made my way to the toilets and lingered there for as long as I could without appearing rude. When I came out, I grabbed my gla.s.s and tried to smile.

"Look, Dave, Ive had a really long day and my stomach does not feel good. I appreciate you meeting me and going through things. Ill come in early and sort the stuff out with you. It went really well tonight. You were a star. Book some time off and spend it with your wife. Grab every moment you can."

I was talking too quickly. Even so, he did not challenge me and just kept nodding.

"Okay, Pen, okay. Dyou want me to walk you back?"

"No, no!" I said too quickly. "Its okay. Ive drunk too much. Ill get a cab. Pick the car up tomorrow."

I looked at the table and saw that he had nearly a whole pint to drink up.

"Perhaps, you should do the same!" I blurted out.

"Ill do that!" he replied.

"Okay, then. Ill see you in the morning. Dont stay up too late, will you?"

"No, I wont"

"Bye."