The Closer You Get - Mary Torjussen Page 0,115

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And who do you think fired you? Eleanor? Really? Harry’s her boss; she couldn’t just fire his PA. Eleanor told me yesterday that as soon as he found out Emma was pregnant, he told her to terminate your contract. He told her that you hadn’t worked there long enough to have any rights and when she said you could sue, he said he knew you wouldn’t do that. Don’t you get it? He doesn’t want you, Ruby.

CHAPTER 62

Ruby

For a moment I thought my heart had stopped, then it banged hard in my chest and I made a noise as though the air had been knocked out of me. I felt so ashamed then, so humiliated. I went back to my flat, my eyes lowered and my shoulders hunched. I didn’t want to meet anyone’s eye, to talk to anyone. I needed to be alone, to lick my wounds in private.

Harry had never said a word to me about firing me. He’d sat there in the café, and yes, I’d noticed he was pale when I told him I was fired, but I thought that was because he was angry. Was his response guilt instead? Or fear?

Had he told me in the e-mail he’d sent that evening that I’d have to leave my job, or had he left it to Eleanor to deal with? Had he thought of me that Monday morning, turning up at work only to be fired? I found it so hard to reconcile that with the way he was with me. There had been no apology from him in the café. No excuses. He must have been so relieved that I’d been stupid enough to think Eleanor had done that herself. I’d always known I was a good liar, that I could fake reactions, keep an impassive face. I hadn’t realized that Harry was the same.

I wanted to get away. I couldn’t cope. I was just about to phone my dad in Australia, to plead with him to let me stay in his house for a while, just to get away from here, when I heard a bang on the front door. I leaped to my feet.

I ran to the top of the stairs and looked down, expecting yet another envelope through my door. There was nothing there. I looked out of the kitchen window, which was above the front door, and saw a small white van parked by the side of the road. A man dressed in overalls was standing beside it, looking up at my flat. When I went down, he introduced himself as Sean.

“Gill’s asked me to call round,” he said. “You want a bolt for your front door?”

“Yes, yes. Thank you. Could you change the locks while you’re here?”

“Lost your keys? I’ll have to charge for that.”

“No,” I said. “I think someone’s been coming into my flat.”

“That’s odd. I change the locks after every tenant leaves so that they can’t get back in. I was here just a few weeks ago. Is that when you moved in?”

“Yes. I’ve not been here long.”

“Phone Gill while I put the lock on,” he said. “If she agrees, I’ll do it and won’t charge.”

“My phone’s upstairs,” I said. “Won’t be a minute.”

I called Gill from my bedroom. “Sean’s here to put a bolt on the front door,” I said. “Thanks for sending him over. I’ve asked him to change the locks as well but he said I had to check with you. I’m happy to pay.”

“Has something happened?” she asked. “First it was a bolt, now the locks. Are you okay?”

“I thought someone was in my flat on Wednesday night. I woke up and heard the front door click.”

She took a deep breath. “Oh my God, that’s my worst nightmare. Of course you can get the locks changed.”

“Thanks. It’s hard, living on my own. If there’s someone with you, you’ve got backup. It’s terrifying when you’re on your own.”

“Wasn’t your boyfriend there then?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“But you said . . .” She sounded confused. “You asked for a spare key for your boyfriend.”

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