I've Got Your Number

“Yes,” I say at last. “I think so.”

“It’s so romantic.” Ruby sighs.

“And wrong!” Annalise chimes in sharply. “The minute he showed any interest in you, you should have said, ‘Sir, this is inappropriate behavior. I would like this session to end and for you to transfer to another therapist.’ ”

“Oh, another therapist!” I can’t help a short laugh. “Like you, by any chance?”

“Maybe! Why not?”

“And what if he’d shown interest in you?”

She lifts her chin proudly. “I would have handled it without compromising my ethical principles.”

“I was ethical!” I say in outrage. “I was totally ethical!”

“Oh yes?” She narrows her eyes like a prosecuting barrister. “What led you to suggest exchanging appointments with me in the first place, Miss Wyatt? Had you in fact already Googled him and decided you wanted him for yourself?”

Aren’t we over this?

“Annalise, you wanted to swap appointments! I never suggested anything! I had no idea who he was! So if you feel like you missed out, tough luck. Don’t swap next time!”

For a moment, Annalise says nothing, She’s getting pinker and pinker in the face.

“I know,” she bursts out at last, and bangs a fist to her forehead. “I know! I was so stupid. Why did I swap?”

“So what?” cuts in Ruby firmly. “Annalise, get over it. Magnus obviously wasn’t meant for you, he was meant for Poppy. So what does it matter?”

Annalise is silent. I can tell she isn’t convinced.

“It’s not fair,” she mutters at last. “Do you know how many bankers I’ve massaged at the London Marathon? Do you know how much effort I’ve made?”

Annalise cottoned on to the London Marathon a few years ago, when she was watching it on telly and realized it was stuffed full of fit, motivated guys in their forties, who were probably single because all they did was go running, and, OK, forties was a bit old, but think what kind of salary they must be on.

So she’s been volunteering as an emergency physiotherapist every year since. She makes a beeline for all the attractive men and works their calf muscles or whatever, while fixing them with her huge blue eyes and telling them she’s always supported that charity too.26

To be fair, she’s got lots of dates out of it—one guy even took her to Paris—but nothing long-term or serious, which is what she wants. What she won’t admit, of course, is that she’s extremely picky. She pretends that she wants a “really nice, straightforward guy with good values,” but she’s had several of those desperately in love with her and she dumped them, even the really good-looking actor (his stage play ended and he had no other work coming up). What she’s really after is a guy who looks like he’s out of a Gillette commercial, with a massive salary and/or a title. Preferably both. I think that’s why she’s so mad about losing Magnus, since he’s Dr. She once asked me if he would become Professor one day and I said probably yes, and she went a kind of green.

Ruby scribbles something else down, then screws her pen lid on. “Well, I think we’ve covered the facts. Well done, everyone.”

“Aren’t you going to give her a warning or something?” Annalise is still pouting.

“Oh, fair point.” Ruby nods, then clears her throat. “Poppy, don’t do it again.”

“OK.” I shrug.

“I’ll put that in writing, show it to the inspector; that’ll shut him up. By the way, did I tell you I’ve found the perfect strapless bra to go under my bridesmaid’s dress?” Ruby beams at me, back to her usual cheery self. “Aquamarine satin. It’s lush.”

“Sounds amazing!” I get up and reach for the Costa coffee tray. “Is one of these for me?”

“I got you a flat white,” says Annalise grudgingly. “With nutmeg.”

As I take it, Ruby gives a small gasp. “Poppy! Haven’t you found your ring?”

I look up to see both Annalise and Ruby staring at my left hand.

“No,” I admit reluctantly. “I mean, I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere.”

“Shit.” Annalise has a hand over her mouth.

“I thought you found it.” Ruby is frowning. “I’m sure somebody said you’d found it.”

“No. Not yet.”

I’m really not enjoying their reaction. Neither of them is saying “Not to worry” or “These things happen.” They both look horrified, even Ruby.