It’s only been a week, but Alex and I have got into a bit of a routine with our Exploring London walks. He’s had some time off, and it’s been nice to wander about and find my bearings a bit. I still reckon I could get lost quite easily, but I’m beginning to join bits of the city up and make sense of it. My first day is next Monday – and I’m being extremely noble about the fact that there’s something going on with him and Emma. Although I’m not sure what that something is – I haven’t heard any more nocturnal happenings but I can’t be sure. I’m just repressing all thoughts about how gorgeous he is.

He gets up to use the loo, climbing out of the tiny space in the corner where our table’s situated. A woman with a baby in a backpack asks him to help reach the highchair that is hanging folded on the wall behind us, and I try very hard not to notice as he reaches up, showing a strip of slightly tanned skin and the edge of his boxers peeking out underneath his jeans. Okay, I’ve repressed almost all thoughts. I am human, after all, and living with the nicest man you could imagine who just happens to be sleeping – on the quiet – with one of your other housemates isn’t quite as easy as you’d think. I grit my teeth and make a face, surprising the waitress, who looks at me with a confused expression.

Chapter Six: Jess

Chapter Six

Jess

14th January

The office of Elder Branch Publishing is smaller than I remember from my interview. Or maybe I just expanded it in my imagination in the six long weeks between being offered the job and waiting to start. Anyway, the nice thing is that it’s as bookish as I remember. And when I walk in, an office full of heads shoot up, meerkat-style, and my face goes very red.

‘Ah, Jessica,’ Veronica greets me. Veronica is the publisher, which I’ve learned means she’s basically where the buck stops. She’s very nice, very posh, and very busy. I don’t correct her and tell her it’s Jess, because she’s quite fierce and I’m extremely nervous.

‘So, as you’ll know, as Operations Manager you’re responsible for keeping all the publications on track, but of course you got the job, so we can be certain that you’re going to be absolutely wonderful. This is Sara. She’ll show you the ropes.’

Sara gives me a tour of the office. She’s tall and thin, in a flowery dress, and opaque mustard-yellow tights that match her cardigan. In fact everyone in the office seems to be wearing a variation on the same outfit. Most of them are in a meeting, but the handful I’ve met have that shiny, expensive-looking hair that comes from being well-nourished and brought up with lots of healthy outdoor activities. They’ve all got the same accent too – sort of home counties crossed with London – and I’m feeling distinctly suburban. Sara’s hair is held back from her face with a Kirby grip, which she takes out and puts back in about five times in the process of our conversation.