Page 13 of The Retreat

The morning air was crisp as Talia pulled up outside Imogen’s flat, her car’s engine ticking over in the quiet street. She looked up at the shabby building and felt a knot twist in her stomach as she sipped her second coffee of the morning. She’d barely slept. Again.

But that was fine. Expected, even. She was used to the acid stomach and the 3 a.m. wake-ups. That was the cost of ambition, and Talia had always been willing to pay it. Career progression didn’t pair with a functioning nervous system. That was what antacids and industrial-strength concealer were for.

Talia just hoped she was as prepared as she could be for this weekend. But what more could she do? Imogen knew the brief and seemed willing to follow it. And Talia had done what she’d vowed and pushed down any lingering thoughts of the past, any remnant of the mess with Flora. It was locked away and would remain so until she dropped Imogen off on Monday morning. Then she could go to the nearest uninhabited area and scream till her voice box gave out.

She let out a long, anxious breath, rubbing her forehead. She glanced in the rearview mirror, looking herself in the eyes to check for signs of madness. If it was there, Talia couldn’t see it—which was as good as it would get.

This was an imperfect plan, she knew that. But there was no turning back now. If she wanted the promotion, if she wanted her life to travel at the speed it should, she needed to pull this off.

And for that, she needed the woman who had once ruined her life.

She got out of the car and smoothed down her Gore-Tex jacket. The black-on-black Rab logo barely showed on the chest. Underneath, a merino-blend top hugged her frame, and her slim technical trousers looked more like designer wear than hiking gear. Her waterproof boots bore a discreet Vibram logo on the sole. Every item was quietly expensive, exactly Talia’s style. She always went for that ‘if you know, you know’ approach to expensive clothing.

As she headed into the building, Talia realised she hadn’t given Imogen a clothing brief. She panicked about that all the way up the stairs to Imogen’s flat.

Imogen answered the door almost immediately, her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing an adequate corporate retreat outfit, thank god. Fitted jeans, clean trainers, and a soft-looking jumper in a cheerful shade of yellow. Casual and vaguely outdoorsy. Not pricey, but that was good. Alex could be modest. That worked for her character.

‘You’re bang on time,’ Imogen said, her voice flat.

Talia nodded, offering a thin, polite smile. ‘Of course I am. You ready to go?’

‘Yeah,’ Imogen muttered, grabbing a bag. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Talia didn’t comment on her tone. She knew better than to push her.

***

The drive out to the country was quiet.

Imogen sat in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed out of the window. Talia focused on the road ahead, trying to ignore the awkwardness between them, but it was impossible. You could have cut the air with a plastic spork.

This was not good. They needed to warm up before they reached the retreat.

Talia tried to start small talk. ‘The weather looks nice today,’ she said, glancing at Imogen for a response.

Imogen didn’t even look at her. ‘Yeah,’ she muttered, her eyes still fixed outside.

Talia pressed her lips together, her hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. She wasn’t good at this personal shit. Not at fixing things, not at navigating the awkward silences, and certainly not when it came to Imogen.

But she was good at negotiation. Maybe if she treated it like any other deal with a client she didn’t like?

‘Look,’ Talia said finally, her voice sounding more strained than she intended. ‘I know this isn’t... ideal. I know you’re doing me a favour. And I just want to say… thank you. I really appreciate it.’

Imogen didn’t respond. Her fingers drummed lightly on the seat next to her, the only movement in the car as they sped along the country roads.

Talia cursed under her breath, realising how bad this was. She had hoped, somewhere in the back of her mind, that the drive would give them time to relax into the situation, ease into the act of pretending to be something they weren’t. But the silence between them was growing heavier, the gap widening the further they got from the city.

The rolling hills of the countryside passed in a blur as Talia tried to focus on the road, her thoughts tumbling over one another. What had she expected? That it would just be easy? That they would be able to pretend everything was fine, that they could both slip into these roles without any of the old baggage coming up?

She took a few subtle deep breaths, trying to force herself to calm down. This is about your career, she repeated in her head, an almost soothing mantra. This wasn’t about old wounds. She had a job to do, and Imogen was just... a means to that end.

But even as she thought it, she knew the lie in it. She knew that it wasn’t just about the promotion, not really. It was about proving herself. About proving that she could get everything she wanted. And, if she was honest with herself, it was about proving that she could control her own life, even if that meant sitting next to someone she’d like to smack around the face.

The silence stretched on.

What was she supposed to do? How was she going to make this easier?

As they neared the turn for the retreat, Talia’s stomach was a mess of nerves. It felt like the friction between them was actually growing, and it was becoming clearer by the second that this was not going to be as simple as she had hoped.

She took a deep breath and tried again, her voice softer this time. ‘We’ll be there soon.’

Imogen didn’t say anything, just a nod.

Talia gripped the wheel tighter and tried to focus on the road ahead, knowing that there was no going back now.

The retreat was upon them. What would Imogen do when they got there? Would she snap into Alex mode? Or was this a portent of things to come?