We Met in December - Rosie Curtis Page 0,39

other day, but I turned it down when I looked up the menu. Cocktails were about £18 each.’

‘Is everyone you work with loaded then?’ Gen swivels herself round on the old black office chair, spinning herself like a child visiting a parent’s workplace.

‘I don’t know. Maybe they’ve got private incomes or something. I reckon half of them are subsidised by parents, and the other half are like me. Jav didn’t go on the night out, either.’

Jav and I have taken to going off to the café down the back street behind our office for lunch a couple of times a week. It’s full of plaster-splattered workers from the building they’re redeveloping round the corner, but they do a pretty decent soup and sandwich for the same price as a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice from the posh restaurant below our building.

Jav’s nice, and I relate to her because she comes from a housing estate in Peterborough, and doesn’t have parents in the business. There are an awful lot of people in the office who seem to have found their way into the job because of someone knowing someone. The MD of the company is so posh that when he talks I have to focus very hard to work out what he’s actually saying. He doesn’t just have a plum in his mouth – I reckon he’s got several fruit trees.

‘Jess?’

I shake my head. Gen’s been talking and I’ve been lost in my thoughts.

‘If you’re struggling, maybe you should give notice at Becky’s place and sign up to become a live-in guardian? I know you said the rent’s cheap, but this is really cheap.’

I shake my head. I haven’t actually told her how much I’m paying, because I feel a bit guilty that she’s been struggling for ages to get by and then I just landed on my feet.

‘I like it there. And the rent’s not expensive. It’s just I keep buying coffees and stuff and they’re so bloody ridiculous. I was walking with Alex the other day in Bloomsbury and we went past a place that was charging £5.50 for a flat white.’

Gen whistles. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘I know.’

‘You need to get a flask,’ she says. ‘More to the point, what’s with all the walking with Alex stuff?’

I make a face. ‘Nothing. He’s just showing me London.’

‘Thought you said he came from Kent?’

‘He does. He just used to spend a lot of time here as a teenager with his dad, and he’s got a really good memory for places and stuff, and you know what I’m like with directions.’

‘Completely, unimaginably hopeless?’

I nod. ‘And it’s really helping. I made it home on foot the other day without getting lost once. It’s nice – like joining up a jigsaw puzzle. And that’s why everyone wears trainers with their office stuff. I couldn’t work it out at first.’

‘Yep.’ Gen waggles a foot. She’s always in huge, chunky trainers. ‘It’s easier to walk most of the time instead of waiting for a bus or fighting your way through the tube. Nice that Alex is taking the time to show you round,’ she says, giving me a sly, sideways look, one eyebrow crooked upwards. ‘Out of the goodness of his heart?’

I feel my cheeks going slightly pink. ‘There’s nothing going on. He’s completely wrapped up in work, and I get the feeling that whatever he’s got going on with Emma is exactly what he wants – no complications.’

‘What about Becky’s no-relationships rule?’

‘I don’t think she knows there’s anything going on.’

‘Oh my God. So you’re the keeper of the secret? Does he know you know?’

I pull an awkward face. ‘Don’t think so. Emma doesn’t realise I saw her coming out of his room that morning, and there’s nobody but me on our floor.’

‘You should say something. Drop a little hint.’

‘God, Gen, no. That would be awful.’

‘Right. So you’re just going to quietly carry on living with the man of your dreams while he’s banging your flatmate on the QT and not say a word.’

‘He is not the man of my dreams.’

‘He so is. I’ve seen him. And I’ve seen the way you looked at each other. I reckon he’s got the hots for you, too. Why else would he be spending his non-existent time trawling over London showing you how to get from A to B when Google Maps exists?’

‘I can’t work Google Maps, you know that,’ I say, only half joking. Whichever way I start walking, I always end up going the wrong way. It happened

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