bit of a break.’
It was seven thirty in the morning and the design studio was empty, save for the two of them. Ben and Michelle, Grace’s assistants, would not be in until eight. Jeff, who normally avoided coming to the factory, as if merely being on premises owned by Grace’s family would somehow contaminate him, had known that he would catch Grace there alone, on a Monday morning, if he was early enough.
He was not only early, but also shaved, and bearing flowers and a round golden box of chocolate truffles. Grace was in her weekday uniform of jeans, battered knee boots and a fisherman’s sweater, with no make-up and her hair held back by an old bandana of her father’s. She had never felt less like smiling.
She stood by the window, with its checked curtains, where she had been when Jeff walked in, and looked past him. He was still holding the flowers. Pink oriental lilies. Where had the poor things been flown from? He held them up.
‘If you aren’t even going to speak to me, babe, then I might as well put these in the bin.’
He made a move towards a galvanized dustbin that stood at the end of the display table. It had ‘Paper Only’ painted neatly on the lid in black.
‘Not in there,’ Grace said automatically.
He dropped them on the floor. ‘You don’t want them, do you?’
Grace said nothing.
He held his empty hands out in supplication. ‘Please, babe.’
She slowly turned her gaze to look at him and said, ‘Please, what?’
‘Please gimme a break.’
‘Why?’
‘Because—’ He stopped, and then he said, dropping his hands, ‘Because you mean the world to me.’
Grace waited a moment, and then she said levelly, ‘No, I don’t.’
He took a step towards her, over the flowers.
‘Please don’t come any nearer,’ she said.
He stopped a yard from her. ‘I mean it, babe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the weekend. I don’t know what got into me. I missed you. I missed you all the time. It … it just felt kind of … pointless, being there without you.’
Grace moved backwards, away from him, and put the central unit between the two of them.
‘I’m not interested, Jeff.’
‘Let me explain a bit more—’
‘No.’
He waited a moment. Then he bent, picked up the lilies and put them on the nearest surface, in front of Michelle’s computer. He said, his voice catching, ‘Don’t say this is the end, babe.’
Grace sighed. She folded her arms. ‘
I
’m the one who needs a break.’
He said, suddenly eager, ‘I’ll give you anything you want.’
‘I don’t trust you. I need time away from you. I need not to see you.’
His smile was hopeful, boyish. ‘Anything you say. I’ll do anything you say.’
The door to the studio opened. Michelle, wearing her quilted parka and an enormous knitted bobble hat, like something from a Scandinavian fairytale, came in on a gust of cold air and chatter.
‘Oh my God, it’s Arctic out there, and
icy.
I was sliding all the way from the bus. I mean—’
She stopped. She looked at Grace. Then she looked with visible interest at Jeff. ‘Whoops. What have I walked into?’
‘He’s just leaving,’ Grace said.
Michelle’s eyes slid from Jeff’s face to the lilies lying across her keyboard.
Jeff said to Grace, ‘OK, he’s leaving. If you promise he can come back again.’
‘
I
’ll have you back,’ Michelle said. ‘Any time.’
Grace stepped sideways and picked up the lilies. She held them out to Jeff. ‘Take them.’
‘Only if—’
‘I need space,’ Grace said. ‘I need time to think. I don’t know.’
Jeff took the lilies. He said with fervour, ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
‘Just go.’
He walked to the door and paused, his free hand on the handle, turning to look back at Grace with meaningful ardour. Then he let himself out and they heard his booted footsteps resounding down the outside staircase.
Michelle dropped her bag. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘And all that before breakfast.’
‘Sorry that
It was seven thirty in the morning and the design studio was empty, save for the two of them. Ben and Michelle, Grace’s assistants, would not be in until eight. Jeff, who normally avoided coming to the factory, as if merely being on premises owned by Grace’s family would somehow contaminate him, had known that he would catch Grace there alone, on a Monday morning, if he was early enough.
He was not only early, but also shaved, and bearing flowers and a round golden box of chocolate truffles. Grace was in her weekday uniform of jeans, battered knee boots and a fisherman’s sweater, with no make-up and her hair held back by an old bandana of her father’s. She had never felt less like smiling.
She stood by the window, with its checked curtains, where she had been when Jeff walked in, and looked past him. He was still holding the flowers. Pink oriental lilies. Where had the poor things been flown from? He held them up.
‘If you aren’t even going to speak to me, babe, then I might as well put these in the bin.’
He made a move towards a galvanized dustbin that stood at the end of the display table. It had ‘Paper Only’ painted neatly on the lid in black.
‘Not in there,’ Grace said automatically.
He dropped them on the floor. ‘You don’t want them, do you?’
Grace said nothing.
He held his empty hands out in supplication. ‘Please, babe.’
She slowly turned her gaze to look at him and said, ‘Please, what?’
‘Please gimme a break.’
‘Why?’
‘Because—’ He stopped, and then he said, dropping his hands, ‘Because you mean the world to me.’
Grace waited a moment, and then she said levelly, ‘No, I don’t.’
He took a step towards her, over the flowers.
‘Please don’t come any nearer,’ she said.
He stopped a yard from her. ‘I mean it, babe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the weekend. I don’t know what got into me. I missed you. I missed you all the time. It … it just felt kind of … pointless, being there without you.’
Grace moved backwards, away from him, and put the central unit between the two of them.
‘I’m not interested, Jeff.’
‘Let me explain a bit more—’
‘No.’
He waited a moment. Then he bent, picked up the lilies and put them on the nearest surface, in front of Michelle’s computer. He said, his voice catching, ‘Don’t say this is the end, babe.’
Grace sighed. She folded her arms. ‘
I
’m the one who needs a break.’
He said, suddenly eager, ‘I’ll give you anything you want.’
‘I don’t trust you. I need time away from you. I need not to see you.’
His smile was hopeful, boyish. ‘Anything you say. I’ll do anything you say.’
The door to the studio opened. Michelle, wearing her quilted parka and an enormous knitted bobble hat, like something from a Scandinavian fairytale, came in on a gust of cold air and chatter.
‘Oh my God, it’s Arctic out there, and
icy.
I was sliding all the way from the bus. I mean—’
She stopped. She looked at Grace. Then she looked with visible interest at Jeff. ‘Whoops. What have I walked into?’
‘He’s just leaving,’ Grace said.
Michelle’s eyes slid from Jeff’s face to the lilies lying across her keyboard.
Jeff said to Grace, ‘OK, he’s leaving. If you promise he can come back again.’
‘
I
’ll have you back,’ Michelle said. ‘Any time.’
Grace stepped sideways and picked up the lilies. She held them out to Jeff. ‘Take them.’
‘Only if—’
‘I need space,’ Grace said. ‘I need time to think. I don’t know.’
Jeff took the lilies. He said with fervour, ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
‘Just go.’
He walked to the door and paused, his free hand on the handle, turning to look back at Grace with meaningful ardour. Then he let himself out and they heard his booted footsteps resounding down the outside staircase.
Michelle dropped her bag. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘And all that before breakfast.’
‘Sorry that
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