‘Rebecca, I just want to finish these emails, then I’m going home,’ she said, face dropping.
‘No.’
‘What do you mean, no?’ Laurel asked, her tiredness forcing her to snap.
‘I mean, no.’ Rebecca pursed her lips and hardened her face. ‘Come on, there’s something you need to see.’
‘Whatever it is, I’m sure Sylvie can—’ Laurel started, turning back to her computer.
‘I know what Sylvie can do, she is amazing, and you don’t pay her enough.’ Rebecca checked her phone again. If there was somewhere else she wanted to be, then she could just leave. That would be fine.
‘But this isn’t about Sylvie. This is about you.’
Laurel sighed. Rebecca meant well, they all did. Jack had tried talking to her about Nate, and even Robin attempted to work him into conversation. She shut those down quickly. There was no point in torturing herself. A clean break, that’s what it required. Another week, she would start to feel better and then she could talk about it. Maybe.
‘What?’ she asked, not bothering to hide her frustration.
‘Come on, it’s nearly time,’ Rebecca said, looking at her phone again and waving at Laurel to stand up.
‘Rebecca, I’m warning you. I don’t want to see—’ she didn’t finish her sentence.
‘I know, I know,’ Rebecca tilted her head to the side. ‘But you’ll have to talk to him sooner or later.’
‘Later will be fine.’ Laurel grabbed her phone and shoved it in her pocket. ‘What do you want to show me?’
Rebecca grinned and her eyes sparkled.
‘Come on. Follow me.’
It would help if Rebecca didn’t strut off like a viper was chasing her. Laurel cursed under her breath as she rushed to keep up. But Rebecca only made it down the corridor to Sylvie’s office, into which she disappeared with a grin.
What the bastard-hell was going on? If it was some kind of surprise party, some kind of thing to cheer her up, that was not something she could deal with today.
Not. At. All.
‘Guys, what’s going on?’ Laurel rounded the door timidly.
She didn’t put it past Rebecca to think that it would be best for her to see Nate, perhaps hiding in Sylvie’s office, wilting forgiveness-begging flowers in hand, stupid crooked smile, all contrite and apologetic. That, sweet Rebecca, would not go down well.
‘Shh, it’s starting,’ Rebecca said, motioning her to come in and sit down.
Sylvie’s computer screen had been turned around and the four chairs in the office set in front, like a cinema showing. Robin was lazing on one chair, arm across the back of Sylvie’s chair who was perched uncertainly next to him, paperwork on her lap. Rebecca was next, and she patted the hard seat of the chair next to her for Laurel, eyes glued to the screen.
‘What’s starting? What are we watching?’ Laurel said, but was quickly shushed by all three of them.
It was an afternoon talk show with a roving reporter talking animatedly into the camera.
Wait. That looked like the lake at Little Willow, and was that her woodland just behind it?
‘Is that here?’ Laurel asked. When had this happened?
‘Yes!’ Sylvie said excitedly. ‘They came a couple of days ago, I wanted it to be a surprise for you. You’re not mad, are you?’ Sylvie suddenly looked anxious, bless her.
‘No, not at all. That’s amazing Sylvie. You’ve got us on TV. Really, really good job,’ Laurel said. Definite pay rise.
‘It wasn’t me,’ the girl mumbled.
‘But it’s not just luscious fields, peaceful cows and a delightful little cafe here. There’s something a lot more interesting going on here as well,’ the reporter on screen was saying, ‘and we have Dr Nathanial Daley here to explain.’
