two tucked away in the garage. She was fairly sure Jackson didn’t even own a bicycle, not that it would have made any difference to her if he did.
‘Well… one of the freelancers who works regularly with us at Apex is called Allegra. She’s Liz’s best friend, too.’
Belinda frowned. It was late, she was tired, her brain wasn’t working properly anymore. ‘I don’t get it. So Liz has got a friend called Allegra, which is also the name of this caller that Jackson likes… so what? I’m convinced he’s actually met her, otherwise why would he be so hung up on her? How could he have met the Allegra you’re talking about?’
Rose was bouncing excitedly on her chair. ‘Don’t you see — he’s been doing a few projects with Apex, so he met her there! In fact, come to think of it, I was there the first time they met — it was right before the Buckland conference and Liz insisted we all had to have a drink with him because he’d just come on board at the last minute… And Allegra probably hasn’t figured out that Jack and Jackson are one and the same… Oh my God! This is so exciting! I feel like the Thought Police are going to come get me now for having secret knowledge of the truth!’
‘So what’s she like, then? Sounds a bit thick to me to not have twigged that Jack is Jackson and vice-versa. I mean, I would think it was pretty bloody obvious, from the voice alone.’
Belinda asked, yawning, unhooking her bra and yanking it out from under her top. She desperately wanted to go to sleep, but her curiosity was piqued by the discovery that between them, she and Rose might be able to piece together a little information about Jackson’s secret crush. She started to fold her bra up neatly, then changed her mind and flung it across the room.
‘Oh come on, Jack does his “hot radio DJ” voice when he’s on air, and he doesn’t speak exactly like that in real life, does he? So you can’t really blame Allegra. Anyway, I don’t really know her as such, but she’s sweet and always polite… nothing like Liz, who’s got personal abuse down to a fine art,’ Rose said. ‘I think she’s divorced with a couple of kids… and she’s beautiful in a fragile sort of way, kind of like Michelle Pfeiffer in White Oleander. Except she’s not blonde.’
Rose sighed. She was just 21 herself, and the idea of romantic love fuelled her dreams. If she and Belinda were correct in their guesswork, this could turn out to be one hell of a love story. But hopefully not as tragic as An Affair To Remember. Or 1984, come to that.
Belinda looked at her friend and grinned, knowing Rose was already visualising white weddings and happy-ever-afters. ‘It never works out in real life, you know that,’ she said, getting to her feet and retrieving her discarded bra from where it had landed on top of the TV. ‘Real life is a bastard. People never get what they want or deserve. And, oh God, Abi’s going to be really pissed if she finds out.’
Chapter Thirteen
THIS, ALLEGRA DECIDED, had been a bad, bad, bad idea. Very, very bad. What she needed was one of those leather lash thingies which that fat monk had in The Name of the Rose, the one who subjected himself to a good dose of self-flagellation for committing the sin of lust. Not that she’d committed that particular sin. No, hers was much, much worse.
Actually, maybe she wouldn’t need a lash after all, or have to flagellate herself. She was pretty sure Liz would take care of that verbally when she found out Allegra’s latest transgression.
Inch by agonising inch, she tried to get out of the bed as quietly as possible, so as not to awaken the snoring, disturbingly hairy person in it next to her. One foot out from under the covers, then a knee, then the other foot; first foot on the floor, wriggle the arse to slide out the lower half of her body, both feet on the floor, head carefully off the pillow, one hand on the floor, slide oh-so-delicately all the way out
‘Well… one of the freelancers who works regularly with us at Apex is called Allegra. She’s Liz’s best friend, too.’
Belinda frowned. It was late, she was tired, her brain wasn’t working properly anymore. ‘I don’t get it. So Liz has got a friend called Allegra, which is also the name of this caller that Jackson likes… so what? I’m convinced he’s actually met her, otherwise why would he be so hung up on her? How could he have met the Allegra you’re talking about?’
Rose was bouncing excitedly on her chair. ‘Don’t you see — he’s been doing a few projects with Apex, so he met her there! In fact, come to think of it, I was there the first time they met — it was right before the Buckland conference and Liz insisted we all had to have a drink with him because he’d just come on board at the last minute… And Allegra probably hasn’t figured out that Jack and Jackson are one and the same… Oh my God! This is so exciting! I feel like the Thought Police are going to come get me now for having secret knowledge of the truth!’
‘So what’s she like, then? Sounds a bit thick to me to not have twigged that Jack is Jackson and vice-versa. I mean, I would think it was pretty bloody obvious, from the voice alone.’
Belinda asked, yawning, unhooking her bra and yanking it out from under her top. She desperately wanted to go to sleep, but her curiosity was piqued by the discovery that between them, she and Rose might be able to piece together a little information about Jackson’s secret crush. She started to fold her bra up neatly, then changed her mind and flung it across the room.
‘Oh come on, Jack does his “hot radio DJ” voice when he’s on air, and he doesn’t speak exactly like that in real life, does he? So you can’t really blame Allegra. Anyway, I don’t really know her as such, but she’s sweet and always polite… nothing like Liz, who’s got personal abuse down to a fine art,’ Rose said. ‘I think she’s divorced with a couple of kids… and she’s beautiful in a fragile sort of way, kind of like Michelle Pfeiffer in White Oleander. Except she’s not blonde.’
Rose sighed. She was just 21 herself, and the idea of romantic love fuelled her dreams. If she and Belinda were correct in their guesswork, this could turn out to be one hell of a love story. But hopefully not as tragic as An Affair To Remember. Or 1984, come to that.
Belinda looked at her friend and grinned, knowing Rose was already visualising white weddings and happy-ever-afters. ‘It never works out in real life, you know that,’ she said, getting to her feet and retrieving her discarded bra from where it had landed on top of the TV. ‘Real life is a bastard. People never get what they want or deserve. And, oh God, Abi’s going to be really pissed if she finds out.’
Chapter Thirteen
THIS, ALLEGRA DECIDED, had been a bad, bad, bad idea. Very, very bad. What she needed was one of those leather lash thingies which that fat monk had in The Name of the Rose, the one who subjected himself to a good dose of self-flagellation for committing the sin of lust. Not that she’d committed that particular sin. No, hers was much, much worse.
Actually, maybe she wouldn’t need a lash after all, or have to flagellate herself. She was pretty sure Liz would take care of that verbally when she found out Allegra’s latest transgression.
Inch by agonising inch, she tried to get out of the bed as quietly as possible, so as not to awaken the snoring, disturbingly hairy person in it next to her. One foot out from under the covers, then a knee, then the other foot; first foot on the floor, wriggle the arse to slide out the lower half of her body, both feet on the floor, head carefully off the pillow, one hand on the floor, slide oh-so-delicately all the way out
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