Babyville Page 0,22
information your researchers don't hate you.”
“Thanks, Mike. I feel better now.”
“They're fucking terrified of you.”
“You wanker.” And Julia starts to laugh.
They talk a bit longer, then Mike walks her to the lift, the subject now his beer session of the night before. They stand, listening to the rumble of the lift as it approaches, and Mike turns to face Julia again. “Listen,” he says, giving her an awkward kiss on the cheek. “If there's ever anything you need, anything at all, you just call me, okay?”
“Okay,” she says, giving him a grateful smile. “Okay.”
There's no point in sitting around the office all day. Not now. Not when she's supposed to be working on her new series. Maeve's new series. She doesn't even have the energy to say good-bye properly. She tries to phone Mark when she gets back, not to explain, not on the phone from this open-plan office, but to see whether he'll meet her in the bar so she can tell him, but he's not around. She doesn't bother to leave a message on voicemail. She'll tell him later.
At lunchtime, when everyone's out, Julia goes through her drawers, selecting the few odd things she wants to take home. A quick raid on the stationery cupboard and she's ready.
“Is everything okay?”
Bugger. Johnny's come back into the office just as she's leaving. He looks at her, standing there holding a large cardboard box, incomprehension written all over his face.
Julia stops in her tracks. “I need a break,” she says slowly. “I just had a long chat with Mike. We've agreed that I'm going to take a sabbatical.”
Johnny doesn't know what to say.
“It's okay, Johnny. I know what everyone's been saying, and I know I've been a bit of a bitch recently, but I do need to, as Mike put it, get my shit together.”
Johnny's face is crestfallen as Julia carefully puts the box on the corner of a nearby desk, then comes back to put her arms around him and give him a hug.
“You'll be fine without me,” she says into his ear. “Plus you've got a gorgeous redhead taking my place,” and when she pulls back she is slightly pissed off to see that Johnny looks the tiniest bit excited at this prospect. His allegiances clearly aren't that strong after all.
The door slams and Julia hears Mark swearing in the hallway. He hates the door slamming behind him, is terrified the wood or doorframe will get damaged, but has no choice when he brings work home and has to negotiate the door with arms full of files.
“Julia?” he shouts from the bottom of the stairs. She walks slowly down to him, toweling her hair dry, stopping a few steps from the bottom as Mark puts his files down, straightening up to look at her.
“Is it true?”
Julia nods.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so. I suppose everyone's already gossiping about it?”
Mark makes a face. “If I believed everything I heard, I'd have come home expecting you to be carried off in a straitjacket by the men in white.”
“You are joking.” She's horrified.
“Only just. People do seem to think you're in the middle of a nervous breakdown.”
“Fuck it, Mark. Why do you have to say things like that? Jesus, you're so bloody insensitive at times.”
“Julia, you asked me, for Christ's sake. Why are you having a go at me? God, can't we just have a civilized evening for a change and actually talk about this? All I know is what I've heard in the office and I've been trying to get you all afternoon. Johnny said you left at lunchtime and your bloody mobile's been switched off all day.”
Julia is silent. Resentful. She doesn't blame him for anything.
She blames him for everything.
She left the office at lunchtime, took a cab straight home, and then was stuck. Alone, in this huge house that she hates, she wandered from room to room, trying to work out how she felt. Was she relieved? Happy? Angry? Disappointed?
Empty. That was how she felt. That was all she felt. All the time.
Switching on the TV, just to have some background noise, she found herself watching a daytime show about problem children. Hyperactive, disobedient, unruly children, none older than seven, and she wanted to hit the despairing parents. How dare you complain, she thought in fury. How dare you say anything against your children when you are so privileged to even have them in the first place.
She switched off the TV in disgust, grabbed her coat, and stepped outside, bracing