Chapter 2
It was only eight o’clock when Tallulah emerged from the mouth of Liverpool Street Station tube and wiped the moisture from her forehead. She was propelled forward by a jet of hot air mixed in with bad-tempered forward-focussed commuters. The morning was already humid, but the air on the street was nowhere near as unpleasant as the stale sweaty odour of the crowded tube train.
Tomorrow, she decided, she would get the bus. Or walk. It wasn’t that far. She stopped and picked up a double espresso from one of the kiosks on the station, sipping it as she walked out of the concourse and turned left towards London Wall and Finsbury Circus. She was early, so she dawdled, cutting through the grassy park, and sitting on a bench by the bowling green to drink her caffeine fix. People passed her at speed, attention straight ahead, intent on getting to work.
Tallulah rubbed her damp forehead again, pushing fine strands of hair out of her eyes and glancing up at the heavy blue of the sky. It was going to be another hot day. A middle-aged woman hurried past, high heels clicking on the paving stones and legs encased in fine tights. The jacket of her suit was slung over her arm, and her face glowed pink. God knows what she’ll be like by the end of the day. Tallulah smoothed her own layered cotton skirt over her legs and down to her ankles. One of the good things about temping was the lack of dress code. Temps were not given roles where they interacted with clients; at least not often and not at the sort of company that patronised Tallulah’s agency.
She finished the dregs of the coffee and tossed the cup in the bin near the entrance to the gardens. She’d worked for Marlowe Developments before and made a beeline for the wide stairs that led to the curved glass doors. The woman on the reception desk was no one Tallulah knew, so she handed her the paperwork from her agency and took a seat, while the receptionist made a phone call.
“Someone from HR will collect you shortly. If you want tea or coffee, there’s a machine.” She put the phone down and pointed to the corner of the room.
“Thanks.” Tallulah slouched back into the chair, watching the sliding doors open and shut as the staff arrived, all of them looking hot and cross, but visibly relaxing as they hit the air conditioning.
The doors of the lift behind the reception desk opened, and a woman rushed out, pausing to speak to the receptionist, who gave her Tallulah’s paperwork.
Tallulah stood up.
The woman was another stranger, a tall and elegant one, in a cream shift dress, with sleek black hair swinging around her shoulders. She held out her hand. “You must be Tallulah Becks?”
Tallulah nodded and shook her hand.
“Come this way. Pamela wants to speak to you. Mrs Addison, I mean. I’m Lucy Dawes.” She held the door open for Tallulah. “I’m her assistant.”
Pamela Addison was the head of human resources and the person who’d interviewed Tallulah for her first temping job at Marlowe’s.
Lucy took her along a wide, pale corridor and up two floors in a lift, before knocking on a door and opening it without waiting for a response.
Pamela Addison rose from behind her desk. “Tallulah, it’s good to have you back with us.” Pamela was an expensively dressed, well groomed, but slightly plump middle-aged woman. Tallulah recognised her instantly.
“It’s good to be back.” She meant it. Marlowe’s paid well, the work was within her skill set, and she’d never spent more than four weeks in a row in the place. That wasn’t long enough to build a dislike for anything, and it was another reason she liked temping. She never worked for a company long enough to be bored, or to get sucked into office politics. There were better things to think about than whether her nearest colleague had a bigger desk, a better position, or whether she’d kissed her boss at the Christmas party. Temping suited Tallulah fine.
She pulled her attention back to Pamela as she realised what she was saying.
“If you’d like to work for us permanently, we can come to some arrangement with your agency,” she said.
“I don’t think so. I like variety.”
“We can give you that,” Pamela leaned forward. “Don’t be hasty. We have great benefits—pension, paid holiday, health insurance. Think about it while you’re here this time. Four weeks again, isn’t it?” She glanced down at the papers on her desk.
“That’s what they told me,” Tallulah agreed. “What will I be doing, Mrs Addison?”
“The first week, you’ll be working for the legal department. A couple of the junior staff signed off with the summer flu.” She sighed. “We’re short-handed all over at the moment, what with sickness, maternity leave, and a recruitment freeze. We’ve got another couple of temps from your agency starting later this week.”
“Okay.” Tallulah wondered how they could offer her a job if they had a recruitment freeze on. It didn’t really matter as there was no way she would take it.
“The work shouldn’t be much of a challenge for you, Tallulah.” She picked the phone up and pressed the buttons. “Pamela Addison here. Your temp has arrived.”
She handed Tallulah a plastic keycard. “That should get you around the building. Legal are sending someone to pick you up.”
Tallulah nodded. She’d been through all the introductory stuff before.
“And please consider my suggestion.”
The person they sent to collect her was a young man, medium sized in height and build, with stylishly cut light brown hair and a dark suit. He nodded to Pamela and whisked Tallulah out of the office.
“You’ve worked here before?” He walked next to her as he led her down the corridor, his brown eyes running over her body.
“Not in your department,” she said. “I’ve worked in accounts and IT. What’s your name?”
“Rob. And we’re more fun.” His eyes assessed her again.
“Legal?” She found that hard to believe. Anyway, she didn’t want fun. She wanted an easy job she could walk away from at the end of the day. That and the high wages her agency paid. “Fun?”
“Yeah. We go out a lot—to clubs and bars.”
“Sounds nice.” No way was she going to waste her hard-earned wages on drinking with her work colleagues, but there was no point in antagonising people on her first day.
He pushed a door open and showed her into an open-plan office, stopping just inside the room. “This is where you’ll sit.”
The desk had a work station and a small filing cabinet and occupied the least pleasant position in the office. The girl at the next desk looked up.
“Cathryn.” Rob nodded at the girl. “This is the temp. What did you say your name was again?”
“Tallulah.”
“Tallulah’s going to be working on those contracts Kit left when he went off sick. You can show her what to do, can’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“I’ll be back later to take you down to photography.” Rob disappeared out of the door.
Cathryn let out a put-upon sigh. “Do you know how to log on and everything?”
“Pamela told me my account was set up, and gave me a password.” Tallulah held up her starter’s pack.
“I’ll show you where the nearest printers and so on are.” Cathryn stood up. “Then we can get some coffee, and I’ll tell you a bit about the department.”
Tallulah followed her out of the office and along the corridor to an impressive print room. Printers, scanners, fax machines, and photocopiers were lined up against the walls. The room was lit by fluorescent strip lighting, and there were no windows. She shivered as the air conditioning blasted her bare arms.
“Come on, let’s get some coffee.” Cathryn led the way to a small coffee room with a few round tables and a coffee counter. The scent of freshly baked croissants rose from behind it. “Coffee’s free.” She put her cappuccino down on one of the tables and sank into the plastic chair. After a moment, Tallulah copied her.
“I like your skirt.” Cathryn sipped at her coffee and smoothed her free hand over her own grey pencil skirt. “We couldn’t get away with wearing that here, though. Business wear is the dress code for everyone.”
“No one’s bothered with what the temps wear.” Tallulah rubbed the fine cotton between her fingers. “I made this myself.”
“Really?”
“I bought the material cheap at one of the markets. It’s perfect for this weather.” The skirt consisted of three layers of cotton, each of which was so thin it was translucent. The bottom one was dark blue, the middle one fuchsia pink, and the top one violet. Together they wafted cool air around her legs. Tallulah was pleased with it. She wore a simple blue camisole on top. “So tell me about legal. What’s it like to work there?”
“It’s all right. A bit boring, but it’s a job.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“There’re a couple of lawyers, then all the clerical and admin staff. You’ll report to Susie Roberts. She’s admin to the senior lawyer. She’s not in yet.”
Tallulah nodded.
“Things are a bit strange at the moment,” Cathryn continued. “The CEO, Mr Marlowe, is sick, and there’s no one at the top. Senior management all seem a bit distracted.”
Tallulah shook her head. The CEO was just one man. It sounded as though the hot summer was getting to everyone. Still, it wasn’t her business; she was only working for Marlowe’s for four weeks.
Cathryn was a chatterer. By lunchtime, Tallulah knew far more about her personal life than she wanted to. She nodded and mumbled while she trawled through the work that was piled next to her computer, occasionally looking up and saying something she hoped was relevant.
At lunchtime, she dug out her packed lunch and ate it at her desk. Her new colleagues disappeared, and she had the office to herself for an hour.
At four thirty, people started to pack up and, by five o’clock, Tallulah was once again alone in the office. At five past five, her boss came in, looked round the empty room, and frowned.
She strolled over to Tallulah’s desk. “Everything all right?”
Tallulah nodded. “I think I’ve finished.” She swept the pile of papers to one side of her computer. “These just need checking and signing.”
Susie picked them up. “Thanks. Could you do one more? I’m sorry to keep you late on your first day, but . . .” She swept one arm about the empty room. “I’ve something that has to go off first thing tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Tallulah waited while the woman disappeared. She returned with a stack of paper covered in red marks.
“The corrections need inserting.”
“No problem.” This was why Tallulah was rated by her agency and made a fairly decent living from temping. She wasn’t at all impressed by the work ethic around the place. Things had changed since the last time she temped for the company. She shrugged and got on with the work. It was seven o’clock when she finished, slotted the final version of the papers into a plastic sleeve, and knocked on her boss’s door.
“Thanks. You’d better go home now.”
Tallulah glanced at her watch. There was no point trying to get home; she was meeting one of her sisters at seven thirty in Islington. They planned to catch up over pizza. She grabbed her bag and rushed off, hoping she’d make it in time.
She ran down the stairs, burst into the reception area and, turning for the doors, hit a solid barrier.
“Umph.” The breath was knocked out of her, and she staggered back, dropping her bag.
“Watch where you’re going. You could hurt yourself.” Warm hands curved round her shoulders, steadying her, and she caught her breath before looking up.
“Sorry . . .” Her voice trailed off as she met a pair of brown eyes. He was at least twelve inches taller than she was, and pure muscle. A flash of awareness flooded her body, and she snatched her hands away from his chest.
“Are you okay?” His hands tightened on her shoulders, his eyes warming as he scrutinised her.
She shook him off and stepped back, bending to pick up her bag, and giving him a quick sideways assessment. “I’m fine. It was my fault.”
He was tall, dressed in faded jeans and a white shirt, open at the neck to display a strong, slightly tanned throat. Messy dark hair fell into his eyes as he inclined his head towards her. Wow, she thought, I’ve body-slammed a sex-god.
“Who are you?” He took a step towards her, but she clutched her bag and hurried for the entrance.
“Gotta run. I’m late.” As she left, she looked over her shoulder to see him staring after her.
~ ~ ~
Zoe was the sister closest in age to Tallulah, and the one who looked most like her. Tallulah might even have suspected they shared the same father if she hadn’t known it was impossible.
Her mother had told her that her own father was a boy she met on holiday with her family, in the days when she had a family, before the pregnancy had appalled her parents and before the drugs had turned her into a needy desperate shadow of her original self.
Zoe’s father could have been anyone. He certainly wasn’t the sort of youth who would have holidayed in the south of France. She was already waiting outside the pizza restaurant when Tallulah arrived, her business jacket tossed onto the chair next to the one she sat in. Two open bottles of beer stood on the table.
Tallulah rushed up and sat. “Sorry I’m late. Am I late?”
Zoe tapped the face of her discrete slim-line watch. “Two minutes.” She grinned and lifted her arms to pull the pins out of her tightly bound hair. “Where’ve you come from?”
“Liverpool Street,” Tallulah said, raising one of the bottles to her lips. “This is exactly what I needed.” She heaved out a long, satisfied sigh and leaned back in her chair. “You should have seen the man I just bumped into.”
“What man?”
“I crashed into him as I was leaving work. He was absolutely gorgeous. The hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” She closed her eyes as the cool liquid ran down her throat. “I literally slammed into him.”
“And?”
“Tall, great body. Eyes you could drown in and—”
“Did you get his number?”
“Of course I didn’t. I was—”
“Working?”
Tallulah grinned. “Yes. But I don’t think he worked there. He looked too messy, and he wasn’t wearing a suit.”
“Pity.”
“Yeah. Too good-looking for me, though. The sort of man who should come with a warning sign,” Tallulah said. “Anyway, I’ve got four weeks there. And guess what?”
“What?”
“They offered me a permanent job.” She rolled the cold bottle down her cheek.
“Seriously?” Zoe combed out her shoulder-length blonde hair with her fingers. She blew out a breath. “It’s so hot.”
“Seriously. I worked there a couple of times before, so they must like me.” She took another gulp from her bottle. “I don’t know how they’d work it. One of the people in my office said there was a recruitment freeze.”
“Would you take it?” Zoe asked. “You should, you know?”
“Why?”
“It’ll give you some stability.”
“Not the sort I want,” Tallulah retorted. “Anyway, I’m not going to be an office worker forever, and temping pays well. Better than anything permanent I could get.”
“But it’s not secure.” Zoe had an extremely secure job with a firm of accountants, had just sailed through her qualifying exams and been given a generous pay rise. She’d worked for the same firm since she left school.
“No, but I can work most of the summer and then go part time when term starts again.” Tallulah was in her final year of a part-time art and textile degree course. It had taken her nearly eight years to reach this point, and she hadn’t worked her butt off just to become an office drone.
“I don’t understand why you need a degree,” Zoe said. “Your work’s already selling.”
Tallulah shrugged. It was her version of security, but she didn’t know how to explain that to her more pragmatic sister. “Education’s always a good thing,” she said, quoting her foster mother.
The waiter hovered near their table. “Are you eating?”
Zoe and Tallulah looked at each other.
“I’m starving,” Tallulah said. “So yes.”
“Do you want a table inside?”
“I don’t think so.”
The waiter handed them two menus and said he’d be back.
“Just cheese for me,” Tallulah said. “A margarita.”
“It’s too hot for pizza.” Zoe wiped her forehead. “I’ll have a salad.”
“And two more beers,” Tallulah said, pulling the fabric of her skirt away from her legs.
“I suppose you made that yourself? It looks cool.”
“Nothing’s cool at the moment.” She examined Zoe’s pencil skirt and tailored blouse. “I just bought some batik fabric off the web. I’m going to make a couple of dresses with it. It’s in indigo and fuchsia and looks almost tie-dyed. I’ll make one for you as well if you like? I’ve enough material.”
“Okay. I’ll come around at the weekend. Have you seen Mia or Kyle recently?”
Mia and Kyle were the other two siblings; Mia was nearly twenty-one and had left foster care at sixteen, disappearing onto the London streets, before appearing on Tallulah’s doorstep a year later. She earned her living busking at tube stations and playing in a couple of bands. At least that’s what she said.
“No. I thought you had Mia to stay a few weeks ago.”
“She was moving into a new squat,” Zoe said. “I didn’t like to ask too much in case she told me. You know? She won’t listen to anyone else, so there’s no point in trying.”
“There’s a room in my building going free,” Tallulah said. “Do you think . . .?”
“I doubt it,” Zoe shook her head. “She won’t want to pay for a place. However cheap it is.”
Tallulah chewed on her lower lip. She worried about Mia, who had been nine when the family were snatched by social services. She worried about them all, but Mia the most. Her foster family were unpleasant; the other children—a boy and girl, bullies—and the parents hadn’t seemed to care. No wonder Mia had walked out.
“Stop it, Tallie.” Zoe slapped her hand. “She’s an adult now. You can’t sort her life out for her.”
Tallulah wished she could. She’d taken care of all four of them until just after her fourteenth birthday. That had been a horrible year. The twins were born prematurely and taken away immediately. Her mother hadn’t seemed to notice, but afterwards, she only left her bed when she needed a fix, and she died one morning about six months later. Tallulah had wracked her brains to find a way to keep the authorities from finding out, but in the end, everything had fallen apart.
“No.” She gave Zoe a weak smile as the pizzas arrived.
After a minute, she looked up from her food. “How’s Michael?”
Michael was Zoe’s boyfriend. He was a tax manager, and the two of them had a long-term plan to buy a house and get married.
“He’s fine.” Zoe put her fork down. “He wants to move out of London.”
“What?” Tallulah almost choked on her pizza slice. “Why?”
“Too expensive,” Zoe said. “He’s right, but I like it here. I’ve always lived in London.”
“What will you do?”
Zoe shrugged.
“Where’s he got in mind?”
“Manchester of all places. It’s miles away.” Zoe pouted, but Tallulah knew that if Michael went, she’d go too. Michael was her security.
“It’s grim up north.” Tallulah tried to joke.
“Yeah.” Zoe didn’t look like she got the joke.
“Why don’t you look at renting somewhere like mine?”
Zoe pulled a face. “You have to share a bathroom and kitchen with five complete strangers. You live in a building that should be condemned.”
Tallulah shrugged. “It’s cheap. Anyway, there are other places like it, but in better condition.”
“Michael wants to buy a house.”
“I want to be the next Salvador Dali.”
Zoe giggled. “Really?”
“Maybe not. Maybe I’d rather be Roy Liechtenstein.” Tallulah just wanted to support herself doing the work she loved.
“We could afford a house in Manchester.” Zoe turned her attention to her salad.
“I haven’t seen Kyle since the end of term,” Tallulah said.
“Me neither.” Zoe latched onto the change of subject. “Maybe we should get together one weekend.
Kyle was the youngest of them, apart from the lost twins. They’d be eleven now. When Tallulah checked, she was told they were adopted as babies. Together. She hoped they had a nice life. Kyle was almost eighteen and would have to sort himself out soon. Tallulah had the impression that his foster parents would continue to support him. He’d said they kept nagging about university.
“You’re worrying again.” Zoe poked her.