Aaliyah and Chibundo exchange a glance. And Ava grins down at the sparkling tarmac.
‘Hmm.’ Theo’s eyes narrow, and Jean’s mouth goes dry. ‘Does that mean you’re allowed to decide if we go to McDonald’s?’
‘Oh, please! Please!’ Evie hops up and down on the spot, sleepiness shed in an instant.
Ava laughs, wrapping one arm around her nephew’s shoulder and looping the other round Jean’s waist. ‘Sure it does.’
‘I think,’ Alasdair says, ‘given the occasion, we could ignore their business practices. Just this once.’
And just like that, over fries and milkshakes, Jean is absorbed into the Harris family fold.
It’s Jean’s own friends who pose the greatest challenge. Imogen suggests meeting for drinks – something non-committal and, in theory, relaxed enough that Jean won’t get overly stressed at the prospect of Cora and Naomi seeing her with Ava. She’s too anxious to eat beforehand; a rookie mistake.
Ginny is easy with Ava, effortlessly charming. But Naomi tries too hard, overcompensating after the disaster of Jean’s coming out. And Cora is her usual unassailable self, more immune to embarrassment than a duck’s back to water. Even Aaliyah’s censure was easier to bear than having every gesture between them scrutinised by Naomi, or Cora’s probing questions. Jean’s first martini melts into her fourth, only Ava’s concerned gaze keeping her from a fifth, and she knows at least part of the evening’s strangeness is due to her own inebriation.
Ava holds Jean in the taxi home as the streets swim by, hushing her every time she tries to apologise and paying the driver before Jean can successfully co-ordinate the zip on her handbag. Inside she gets Jean to down a pint of water; makes a ham and cheese sandwich spread thick with mustard, just the way she likes it. Whether it’s the food lining her stomach or the comfort of being squarely back on her own turf, safe with Ava, Jean feels better for it.
Upstairs Jean collapses onto the mattress, her ceiling sliding gently in and out of focus. ‘This wasn’t,’ she says, as Ava crawls in beside her, ‘how I’d planned on getting you back into my bed.’
Ava’s lips brush against her temple, curved upwards into a smile. ‘Go to sleep, Jellybean.’
And though her head and stomach pulse in the morning, and her neck prickles every time she remembers the awkwardness with Cora and Naomi, Jean’s resolve doesn’t waver.
Throughout the week Peter double and triple checks that she’s sure about their plan. Jean bristles at this smothering, until it truly hits her: their days of working together are running out. Ten, nine, seven… A week from now there will be no impromptu lunches, no sounding board, none of that relentless optimism. No more safety net as Jean flies higher than ever before. But every day in the office only serves to solidify Jean’s certainty – there are other possibilities, other ways of being. The cake is ordered, the handover date marked in the company calendars. She has Helen messenger an invitation to Ava’s office; if anyone is to witness her final, glorious leap at DDH, it should be her partner.
Jean changes into her crushed velvet blazer dress in her private office bathroom, a final check, dabbing fresh perfume at her neck, her wrists, and – after a moment’s deliberation – between her breasts. Though Helen offers, Jean goes down to the lobby and greets Ava in person. She’s dressed up for the occasion, in a crisp white shirt and high-waisted grey slacks that emphasise the curve of her hips; the length of her legs. Ava could almost blend in at the firm, were it not for her chunky silver rings and the bold orange scarf knotted through her updo. Even in this place, she could not be more perfectly herself.
And through her eyes, Jean sees DDH as if for the first time: the polished marble floors, the airy expanse of the reception, the steady stream of water splashing in the fountain. But, above all things, Ava is the truest measure of her wealth.My cup, Jean thinks,runneth over.
When Ava catches sight of her, she approaches at a trot, only to slow at the last moment. Uncertain of protocol. Unsure of Jean. But that’s easily remedied. Jean stands up on tiptoe, not bothering to check who might be passing, and presses a kiss on the corner of Ava’s mouth.
Though it’s a chaste enough greeting, Ava’s eyebrows climb, her eyes round as saucers. ‘Jean?’
‘Ava?’ Jean takes her hand, still limp with surprise, and pulls Ava towards the lifts. ‘Come on – let’s go upstairs. Peter’s wife is due to arrive any second, and she’s not pleased with me.’
In the lift Ava still wears that same stunned expression. ‘I’m fine with PDA,’ she says. ‘And I couldn’t be prouder that you’re my girlfriend. But Jean, you were so afraid of your colleagues finding out. What it might mean for your career. You don’t have to come out to them, especially not today of all days. I’m fine keeping it ambiguous.’
‘I’m not.’ Jean turns to face her, looking Ava in the eye. ‘I’ve spent my entire adult life making decisions based on what other people might think, and it made me miserable. These last couple of months… I can’t remember ever feeling so free, so alive. Alright?’
‘Alright.’ Ava grins. ‘Knock them dead, my wild woman.’
Jean laughs as the doors slide open. Already the break room is buzzing with activity. Gold and silver balloons bob in the air among clusters of people. Emily stands on a chair, pinning the finalCongratulations!banner in place.
Alexander is the first to approach her, always with an eye for an opportunity. ‘Big day for you, Ms Howard.’
Jean’s smile grows demure. ‘A big day for the firm, Alexander. And I’d like you to meet my partner, Ava.’ His expression doesn’t flicker as the two of them shake hands – perhaps Jean has misjudged him. ‘Alexander’s one of our senior associates.’
‘Hi!’ Ava beams, though her knuckles pale with the force required to return Alexander’s death grip. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’
‘Likewise.’ Alexander looks between them, lowering his voice. ‘So, you and Ms Howard have gone into business? Always a good idea to diversify the portfolio.’
Jean stares, slack jawed.Of all the possible responses…Alexander saunters off to have a word with Peter, utterly oblivious. And though Ava covers her mouth, there is no disguising the shake of her shoulders.
She spies Elizabeth lingering in the corner, Dale discreetly adjusting a shoulder pad in her jacket – he is perhaps the least resentful trailing spouse Jean has yet encountered, perfectly content running his web design business from home while Elizabeth takes the legal world by storm. And after today her position will be unassailable.
Jean guides Ava through the throngs, accepting thanks from assorted underlings, and exchanging air kisses with Elizabeth.
‘I know you’re already well acquainted with Elizabeth, but this is her husband, Dale.’ Jean takes a breath. Keeps her tone light, as if remarking upon the weather. ‘And this is my girlfriend, Ava.’
