Patently in Love Read online

  Haven't you done enough to me already?

  Jane

  ##

  From: [email protected]

  To: Jane Porter

  Babes.

  The Cause Celeb stuff isn't really anything to do with me. We hired this new PR guy, he said it was good for the new album, so I just went along with it.

  Besides, it's true. I do miss you. You were a stabilising influence on me. And we had some good times, didn't we?

  Ashby

  ##

  From: Jane Porter

  To: [email protected]

  I don't care whose idea it was. Call it off.

  Can't you get one of your little tarts to pretend they're going out with you? You can both get the exposure you need and you'll both be happy. What about that creature from Hollyoaks that you so famously cheated on me with?

  Seriously, if this doesn't stop and soon, I am going to see a lawyer about suing the pants off you and Mike for invasion of privacy.

  Jane

  ##

  From: [email protected]

  To: Jane Porter

  Janelle? No way. She hires brain cells by the hour.

  Aw c'mon Jane, don't be like that. Everyone will have forgotten all about you in a few weeks. Where's the harm?

  ##

  From: Jane Porter

  To: [email protected]

  WHERE'S THE HARM???

  I can't believe you. Have you not paid attention to a word I've just said?

  I want my life back you selfish bastard.

  You'll be hearing from my lawyer.

  Jane

  ##

  From: Jane Porter

  To: Polly

  I just threatened to sue Ashby.

  I'm not even sure I have a case. It's not libellous to say he misses me.

  Besides, I can't afford a lawyer. Help!

  Jane

  ##

  From: Polly

  To: Jane Porter

  Jane. Relax. It's just a stupid magazine.

  No one's going to bother you. They'll forget about you soon enough. It'll be fine.

  HUGS

  Pol

  ##

  From: Jane Porter

  To: Polly

  I can't just forget about it, Pol. You don't know how awful it was. Every time I went out of the flat, some guy with a camera would take photos of me. I couldn't even open the curtains without someone trying to get a telephoto lens on me. I had to live in perpetual twilight for days.

  Even when I escaped to Mum's house, they hunted me down--although, Mum might have let that one slip. Not sure. People kept wanting me to comment on how I was feeling and what I thought of that woman from Hollyoaks. All I wanted was to be left alone.

  I can't go through that again.

  Jane

  ##

  From: Polly

  To: Jane Porter

  Try not to think about it, hon. It'll all be okay. Honest.

  Just concentrate on that nice new man of yours.

  Love

  Pol

  PS: Don't even think you've got out of telling me the details. I will be waiting for you when you get home.

  ##

  From: [email protected]

  To: Mike Taylor

  Dude, Jane says to call off the press or she'll sue.

  Ashby

  ##

  From: Mike Taylor

  To: [email protected]

  Let her sue! That's publicity money can't buy!

  I've arranged a photoshoot for Tuesday 2pm. Tell the lads.

  Mike

  Chapter 14

  From: Sally Thomas

  To: Ruth Jones

  Hi Ruth. Have you seen Cause Celeb are trying to find a Jane Porter that used to go out with Ashby Thornton. Do you think she's the same Jane Porter as our Jane?

  I've just been looking at pictures on the web. They look vaguely similar, but it's hard to tell. Celeb Jane is blonde and all air brushed. Our Jane is normal looking.

  ##

  From: Ruth Jones

  To: Sally Thomas

  I see what you mean. There is a resemblance. It is a bit of a coincidence, isn't it, with the same name and Jane being from Manchester. I noticed she doesn't talk about her love life, which would make sense if she was trying to get away from it.

  On the other hand, she's training to be a patent agent--it's hardly a glam job, is it? And Porter isn't that unusual a name--maybe there are a lot of Porters in Manchester.

  Besides, Jane's so quiet. She wouldn't say boo to a goose.

  I don't know. I'm inclined to think it's just a massive coincidence. But I'll keep an eye out for other clues.

  Ruth

  * * * *

  Jane was so flustered by being the focus of Cause Celeb that she couldn't concentrate. It was nearly lunchtime, so she grabbed her coat and left, telling Ruth she was going to get a sandwich. There were several sandwich shops nearby, most of which had people queuing. Recalling seeing a soup place not too far away, she walked in that direction. When someone called her name, she turned and saw Keith, running to catch up with her.

  "Going out for lunch?" He was wearing a long black coat and what looked like a university scarf.

  Jane considered lying and saying she was going to the bank, but she had a feeling that no matter what she said, he was going to try to join her. She didn't reply.

  "I'll come with you," said Keith, as if she'd welcomed his approach. He fell in beside her.

  Jane was reminded of leaving the office with Marsh the night before. How different an experience that had been.

  "I know a nice place the does a lovely plate of couscous," Keith said, as they turned a corner.

  She didn't want to have lunch with Keith. On the other hand, if she got a soup and took it back to the office, she would have to sit in the canteen and listen to the gossip, which she really didn't feel like doing.

  "It'll be fun. A nice hot lunch." He looked at her, his expression faintly pleading. It suddenly occurred to her that, for all his bravado, he might be quite insecure. Perhaps his constant invitations to the pub stemmed partially from the fact that he was lonely.

  "I won't take no for an answer," he said.

  Deciding she had nothing to lose by getting to know him a bit better, Jane went with him.

  They passed the row of high street shops and bagel bars where she normally bought lunch. Keith ushered her past an impressive looking, pink stone building and down a lane. It opened into a crowded streetmarket. There were stalls selling cheap jumpers. A man in a tracksuit shouted his wares, his breath condensing in the cold air. Men and women in suits rummaged through stalls selling imitation designer goods. Stallholders stood around chatting.

  "Leather Lane market," Keith said. He led her past various stalls, and finally guided her through a gap between a man selling jewellery and a dreadlocked woman who was selling dried fruit.

  The front of the Moroccan café bore brightly coloured sheets of paper announcing meals for a few pounds. When the door opened to let a group of women out, Jane and Keith squeezed inside.

  The shop was beautifully warm and the air was heavy with the smell of cinnamon and cumin. On one side was a counter with steaming tureens of stew. Opposite it plastic tables were crammed together, with people huddled around them, laughing and chatting as they tucked into plates heaped with couscous and sauce. The place was filled with voices and the clatter of cutlery.

  Keith leaned close to speak in her ear. "What would you like?"

  Jane pointed at an appetising looking vegetable stew.
<
br />   "I'll get it," said Keith. "You find us a table. There's more room at the back."

  She headed in the direction he pointed. The back room was small and equally crowded. As she hovered by the doorway, a couple finished their meal and stood up. She immediately grabbed their vacated table.

  As she waited she stacked up the used plates and wiped the table. Doing so reminded her of having been a waitress in her student days. Looking 'round, she felt a wave of nostalgia. This was the sort of place she and Ashby would have gone to for lunch as a treat. He had been fun and interesting, not the self-absorbed pop brat he now was.

  Jane imagined Marshall here with her. She could see similarities between him and the Ashby she'd fallen for all those years ago. It was an unsettling thought.

  A waiter whisked the stack of plates away. He wiped the table down with a wet cloth, leaving a slippery smear behind. "Enjoy your meal," he said.

  Jane folded her hands on her lap, not touching the tabletop. She knew she shouldn't compare Marsh to Ashby, but she couldn't help it. She thought about the night before. In some ways, Marsh and Ashby were very different indeed.

  She was still smiling when Keith arrived with two heaped plates. She reached for her purse to pay for hers, but he dismissed it with a wave. "I know you've got cashflow problems until your new cards come through. So, tuck in. It's on me."

  "Thanks." Just as she raised her first forkful to her mouth, her phone rang. Marsh's name came up on the display. Mouthing "Excuse me" to Keith, she answered it.

  "Hi, it's me. Marsh." He paused, as though unsure what to say. "Um...are you in the office at the moment?"

  "No."

  "Great. Listen, I was wondering..."

  "Yes..." Jane prompted.

  "Would you like to come over to my place for the weekend? We could loaf around town a bit and...do stuff."

  Keith was making a great show of pretending he wasn't listening. She wondered how much of what Marsh was saying was audible to Keith. "That sounds good."

  There was a short silence from the other end. "Is there someone else there?"

  "Oh yes." She felt oddly guilty that she was out with another man, and reminded herself that she and Marshall weren't really an item yet. And she was only having lunch with a colleague. It wasn't like a date. She knew Marshall and Keith didn't see eye to eye, but that was no reason for her not to interact with Keith. After all, Marshall's dislike could be misplaced.

  "Okay. I'd best let you go then," Marshall said. "I'll call you after work this evening and we'll sort out a time to meet. See you later."

  "Yes. Thanks for calling," she said, trying to sound casual for Keith's benefit. "Bye."

  "That was the estate agent," she said as she put her phone away. She hoped it sounded convincing. "I'm looking for a place to stay."

  "Really? I thought you were staying with a friend."

  "I am, sort of. It's her spare room; she normally uses it as a study, so it's really tiny. There's barely room to walk around the bed. It's a bit like being a student again." She picked up her fork and started to eat. The food was surprisingly good. "This is lovely."

  "Isn't it?" said Keith. "I come here a lot. Although, it's much more fun in company. I usually end up getting a takeaway and having it back at work."

  Again Jane wondered if he was lonely.

  "I bet you don't get this sort of diversity up in Yorkshire," he said.

  "Lancashire," she corrected. "I'm from Manchester. That's in Lancashire."

  Keith shrugged. "Sorry, I've never really got to grips with the difference. I'm a London boy, you see. The rest of the country is just 'not London' to me." He grinned, as if to take the sting out of his words.

  As the meal went on, they talked about work and life. For some reason Keith had stopped trying to make a pass at her. Without the threat of lechery, Jane found he was surprisingly good company. When it was time to go back, she was genuinely sorry.

  "You know Jane," said Keith, as they walked back to the office, "I think we got off on the wrong foot. I know I can come across as a little...brash. It's like a nervous tick I have when I meet new people. I open my mouth and this horrendous crap comes out. It takes me a while to relax and be myself, if you see what I mean."

  She had suspected as much and felt sorry for judging him too hastily. She was glad she hadn't let herself be influenced by Marshall's prejudices and had taken the time to talk to Keith. "That's okay. I wasn't offended by your anti-Northern stance."

  "Oh that was for real," he said, grinning. "Can't stand Yorkshiremen."

  Jane laughed too. "Nowt good never came out of Yorkshire," she said solemnly. "'Cept road to Lancashire."

  Keith roared with laughter. "Is that a real saying?"

  "Oh yes. Us Lancashire folk don't get on with Yorkshire folk. Well known fact."

  "What, county rivalry? Like Kent and Essex?"

  "If you like."

  "Brilliant. I shall have to remember that," Keith said, as they arrived at the entrance to their building. "Now, alas, I have to love you and leave you. I've got to get this opinion written by tomorrow and I haven't read half the documents yet." He held the door open for her. "It was nice talking to you properly. We should do this again sometime."

  Jane nodded. "That would be nice," she said. And meant it.

  Chapter 15

  From: Stevie Winfield

  To: Marshall Winfield

  Guess what Marsh, Buzz and I are coming down to London tonight to go to a party. We'll be crashing at the flat after. Hope that's okay with you.

  We're probably not going out until about 10, so fancy grabbing some takeout with us?

  Love

  Stevie

  ##

  From: Marshall Winfield

  To: Stevie Winfield

  I'm supposed to be inviting Jane over...I'll postpone if you guys are going to be there. I don't want to miss the opportunity to meet the famous Buzz.

  Will you two be staying the whole weekend?

  Marsh

  ##

  From: Stevie Winfield

  To: Marshall Winfield

  Shit. I forgot about Jane. Look, we'll find somewhere else to stay. Don't worry about it.

  ##

  From: Marshall Winfield

  To: Stevie Winfield

  No, that's fine. It will be nice to see you and to meet Buzz.

  I can always have Jane round on Saturday. So long as you're not planning to stay the whole weekend...?

  ##

  From: Stevie Winfield

  To: Marshall Winfield

  We'll clear off on Saturday afternoon, I promise.

  Can I meet Jane?

  It's only fair, you get to meet my boyfriend.

  ##

  From: Marshall Winfield

  To: Stevie Winfield

  No. You can't meet her. Sorry.

  I've only seen her twice outside of work. I'd like to get to know her better before I introduce her to my sister.

  ##

  From: Stevie Winfield

  To: Marshall Winfield

  From what I've heard you know her pretty well after yesterday. But fear not, brother dear. We'll be out of your hair by Saturday afternoon.

  Gotta go. Train in 20 minutes. See you later.

  Love

  Stevie

  ##

  From: Marshall Winfield

  To: James Edwards

  Drat. I was planning to cook a nice meal for Jane and Stevie emails to say that she and her no good boyfriend are coming down for the weekend. Much as I love Stevie, she somehow
manages to throw a spanner in my romantic aspirations.

  On the other hand, I get to meet Buzz, finally. I'll be interested to see if he is as in love with her as she is with him.

  Marsh

  ##

  From: James Edwards

  To: Marshall Winfield

  You shouldn't prejudge the poor guy, you know. Sounds like Stevie really likes him, so it is possible he's totally besotted with her too. He may genuinely mean to pay back everything he's borrowed from her.

  Just because you were ultra sensible with money when you were a student, it doesn't mean everyone has to be.

  Jim

  ##

  From: James Edwards

  To: Marshall Winfield

  PS: Are you going to let Stevie have this Buzz guy sleeping in her room and risk them having sex while you're in the building? Or are you going to make him sleep on the sofa?

  Jim

  ##

  From: Marshall Winfield

  To: James Edwards

  Ugh. Why did you just do that? I hadn't even thought about it and now you've put it in my head.

  I'm guessing I don't have any choice in the matter anyway, she's too old for me to dictate that sort of thing now.

  Just you wait until Molly's old enough to have a boyfriend. I'm going to remind you of this.

  Marsh

  * * * *

  Work was becoming increasingly difficult. Despite the fast approaching deadlines, Jane was having trouble keeping her mind on the job. Her thoughts kept straying towards Marsh, who was only a flimsy office wall away from her. Occasionally, she would catch herself staring at the plasterboard, daydreaming to the muffled sound of his voice.

  So far, she had managed to avoid bumping into him too often, but all her senses had been on high alert all day. As a result she felt physically and emotionally exhausted. It was almost a relief to be away from the office and back at the flat. She dug her keys out of her new bag and, remembering the last time, knocked. Loudly.

  Polly pulled the door open. "Oh good. I've been waiting for you to come home." She ushered Jane inside. "Tell me everything."