Page 104 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘Charles! You can’t just walk in here. I’m in the middle of—’

‘I texted you. You didn’t answer.’

‘I’ll get back to you, Shelley,’ I tell my assistant, and end the session.

Then I turn to Charles.

‘Never, ever interrupt me when I’m talking to someone again,’ I say. ‘You could have ruined a deal, for yourself or someone else.’

‘You were talking to Shelley,’ he says.

‘You weren’t to know that. Now, I have a heap of things to do that are really important—’

‘The most important thing is telling me you’ve signed the papers I know you received the other day.’

‘Everything is in hand,’ I say.

‘I don’t want it to be in hand,’ says Charles. ‘I want it to be with the courts. Iseult and I would like to get married as soon as we can.’

‘What’s the big rush?’ I ask. ‘Is she pregnant?’

‘Of course she isn’t pregnant!’ He gives me a horrified look. ‘Why would you even say such a thing? And not that it would matter if she was, but . . . are you jealous?’

‘Oh, please.’ I roll my eyes. ‘How could I possibly be jealous of her?’

‘Well, you not getting on with things is affecting my work. I can’t think of anything till it’s done. Sydney sent me more – more! – suggestions for A Caribbean Calypso . . . You’ll have to talk to her and tell her to lay off on them. I can’t concentrate properly until I know those papers have been filed. Iseult’s parents will be home from their cruise soon and I want to be able to tell them that I’m a divorced man.’

‘Even if I’d hand-delivered the papers to the judge himself, it wouldn’t make things happen faster.’

‘Well, if you haven’t bothered, if you’re too bloody busy to walk to the post office, give them to me now and I’ll post them myself.’

‘Here you are.’ I pull open the bottom drawer of my desk and take out a large envelope. ‘Everything that’s needed is in there.’

‘Why you couldn’t have . . .’ He shakes his head. ‘At least I know we’ll be up and running after today. I’m going to send them by registered mail right now.’

‘Fine,’ I say. ‘Takes something off my plate.’

‘Anything to help,’ says Charles, and walks out of my office, slamming the door behind him.

Fuck, I think as I watch him stalk up the garden. I should’ve sent the papers the day I got them. But every time I took the envelope out of the drawer, I put it back in again. Something was holding me back. Perhaps it was the feeling that the invisible bond between him and me is necessary for both of us. Or maybe it was simply that I don’t want him to have that bond with someone else.

I’m being silly. I know I am.

I turn back to my laptop, but my concentration has been shot to pieces.

I glare up at the house, then snap the laptop shut.

I’ll work from home, where I won’t be interrupted.

Chapter 29

Iseult

All writers are lunatics.

Cordelia Funke

I go directly from work to the Seán Óg book launch. I texted Charles and asked him what to wear, because I don’t know how posh it will be. His response was to dress for the weather. Given that it’s tipping it down by the time I leave the port, I’m hoping that my ankle boots, black jeans and sparkly top are OK.