The Brink: an addictive love story told in reverse by Jamie Fewery

Author:Jamie Fewery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Legend Press

DAY TWO

NOW

Dan took the first bus to the Melrose and White offices, Anya saying she would wait ten minutes, then get on the next. To complete the illusion, she would then send Matt a message to tell him that she was running late, blaming a delayed train on her way into London.

Charlotte was already outside when Dan got there, holding two cardboard coffee cups, one the size of a pint glass and the other the size of, well, a normal coffee.

‘Morning!’ she said brightly, looking up from her phone. ‘I got you one with an extra shot,’ she said, handing him the enormous cup. It would take him at least an hour to get through that much espresso and frothy milk. ‘I know some people don’t sleep too well while these things are going on. Might perk you up a bit. You know, if you need perking up.’

Dan looked at himself in the window of the office building, wondering if he looked overly tired or downbeat. Not really. His hair was slightly untidy and his shirt a little creased, both a result of a bit of a rushed morning with two of them needing to use the bathroom. Also, a lack of alternatives meant he was wearing the same jacket and trousers as yesterday, feeling a bit like a Great British Bake Off contestant as a result. But beyond that, he didn’t look any more dishevelled than normal.

‘Cheers,’ he said, taking a sip of the cappuccino, getting mostly milk and a bit of chocolate powder forced through the little hole at the top of the cup.

‘Good evening?’ Charlotte asked, leading him into the reception and signing them both in.

‘No,’ Dan said quickly. ‘I mean, like, not bad. But not good either. You know. Weird one.’

‘I can understand that.’

‘Just a curry and bed, really. Early one. Want to keep my head, you know. Focus,’ he said, unable to stop speaking.

‘Absolutely.’

‘What about you?’ Dan said, noticing that the two original receptionists from yesterday had been charged up and were back behind the desk. Charlotte handed him a visitor lanyard and sat down on a firm red sofa.

‘Oh! Wonderful. Great, yeah. It’s really good, that Aladdin. Have you been?’

‘No. Not yet,’ Dan said, unsure of why he added yet, realising that might suggest some intention of going one day.

‘Well, you should. It’s just…’ Charlotte began, then stopped short. ‘Oh! Think they’re here.’

Dan didn’t want to look round. To see Anya there, dressed in the jacquard trousers and white shirt from yesterday, that he’d last seen at the bus stop forty-five minutes ago. To say hello and start the discussions that would end their marriage, only nine hours after they’d last had sex. To be formal and professional, so soon after she’d swerved his attempted kiss goodbye.

‘Dan,’ Charlotte said. ‘I said—’

‘Sorry. I know.’

Then he heard her voice behind him. That soft Irish accent that had said, ‘No, sorry,’ before he boarded the 91 towards Holloway Road.

Dan stood up to face her. Anya was serious and straight, looking right past him to the lifts, holding her overcoat across her forearm.

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