The rest of the gig passes in a haze. I drown the flat disappointment in quite a bit too much cider. Lizzie also gets drunk and ends up crashing on the sofa at mine. I make it up to my housemate (who stumbles over Lizzie in the morning) by promising to do her share of the housework for a week.
Sunday is dull, both weather-wise and inside me. I can't believe I've been stupid enough to let Diana slip so easily through my fingers. I don't look forward to seeing her at work again. I dread the idea of the frosty atmosphere there's bound to be in her office if we have to have meetings together.
On Monday morning, I notice there's an email invitation from Sandra to a meeting in Diana's office and I open it with some nervousness. But it's for Wednesday, and she's called it 'Wrap Up'. I check with Roger, and he confirms that it will very likely be the last meeting we'll have with Legal on this case. He thanks me for all my hard work on it and drones on for a bit about work and I know I should be flattered and interested, but inside I'm struggling with the idea that Diana and I will no longer work together. No more reason to slip up to her office and stand close to her and enjoy noticing her looking at me and remember the touch of her hand on my leg. No excuse to talk to her, no chance to be with her and breathe in her smell and fantasise about kissing her elegant neck and feel her gaze on me carefully as I talk. No chance to watch her as I explain something and think she's concentrating but wonder with part of my mind if she's really mentally undressing me or whether that's just the way she makes me feel when she looks at me.
***
I dress carefully for the meeting. Even if Diana and I aren't talking and she's lost interest, and mainly because this is probably the last time we'll have anything to do with each other, I want to look good. On Tuesday night I try out several combinations in front of the mirror, and go to bed almost convinced about a pink blouse and the grey skirt I was wearing when Diana snogged me in the toilets at that party. But sleeping on it is always good, and I wake up knowing it has to be a dress. As I wander into the kitchen and wait for the kettle to boil, I decide I know exactly which dress.
I take my housemate her coffee and head off to get ready.
Back in the kitchen, my housemate is eating toast on her way out to catch her lift. She smiles. 'You look nice, Fi. Dressing to impress someone?'
I shrug. 'Something like that. Important meeting.'
'Well, good luck, then.' She grabs her umbrella and bag.
I glance out of the window and decide the drizzly weather looks stuck in for the day and revise my choice of shoes. I was going to go with pretty heels, but I switch to boots at the last minute. Especially if I'm going to have to wait at the bus stop.
***
The dress is plain, mustard-coloured, with a flattering cut and a loose skirt below the knee. I match it with plain silver earrings and a silver necklace above the very slightly dipped collar. I finally go with a pair of brown leather boots, and I pull a soft, dark brown jacket on top. My nails and lipstick are a rich pink and, unusually for work, I just touch up my eyes very slightly. My hair I clasp loosely at the back.
I get a few glances on the bus, and the new apprentice receptionist tells me I look lovely as I sign in. I glance at her to thank her and notice something in her smile. I move off through the lobby and look back as I leave, and she catches my eye and smiles again.
The anticipation of seeing Diana again, maybe for the last time, soon pushes most other thoughts out of my mind. The meeting isn't until 10 o'clock, but I find myself getting increasingly fidgety and nervous as the morning ticks by. I make sure I have all the paperwork ready, I check it through several times, then eventually have to find something else to do. I email Michelle and she agrees to meet me outside.
***
I moan at Michelle for a while about how I've let Diana slip through my fingers. She gives me the benefit of her Classics degree. I think she's trying to give me a sense of perspective. 'You do know what happened to the real Diana, don't you, babes?'
'Huh? Which real Diana? Isn't our one all too real enough?'
'The original Huntress. The Moon Goddess, the Eternal Virgin. Depends on who you talk to, but you know? Diana, Artemis...? Not ringing bells?' She sucks on her cigarette.
I shrug. 'I think I read different books to you, darling.'
Michelle waves her hand. 'Whatever. Anyway, Artemis – Diana to the Romans – is bathing in a stream and Acteon happens to see her naked as she's getting out. Towel slipped or something, maybe he was just perving. Anyway.' She stubs her fag out. 'She spots him peeping, feels violated, turns him into a stag and he gets ripped to shreds by a pack of hounds.'
I look at her for a second and feel the laugh bubble up inside me. 'As you do, eh?'
She nods solemnly. 'As you do, babes, definitely. Anyway, just be aware that with a Diana you make your choice and have to live with it. And, to be fair, whatever you do just be glad you haven't been spying on her in the gym showers or something.' She stands up and we start to go back inside. 'I like the way you keep me company, I don't want to have to collect you up in bits and explain everything to your housemate.'
Finally the laugh escapes me. 'I'll try. But as things go at the moment, I've not even got a chance of getting anywhere near her with her clothes on. Never mind in the bath.'
We pause again by the stairs. 'So,' I ask Michelle as she calls the lift. 'Is that little lesson in Classical mythology your way of telling me nicely to put up or shut up about Diana?'
'Pretty much.' She nods, then touches my shoulder and looks serious. 'Well, no. Sleep with her and put her out of her misery, and be so good she settles down with you and becomes nice...that would be best. Failing that, shut up, yes.' She sees my raised eyebrow and prods me gently. 'Oh, she still does, babes.' She nods. 'She might not come over like this, but she still really really has the hots for you. She's ignored you after you've brushed her off? She's paying you back, big time. She's still interested, though.' Michelle looks at me kindly. 'Anyway, Sandra says Diana and her friend spent most of the night with them, and Diana talked about you a lot. Just a friend, apparently, that woman. So the ball's in your court, sounds like.'
I am more delighted to hear that than Michelle could ever know. Even if it is a little bit strange to learn that Sandra and Michelle discuss my sex life. I shrug in what I hope is a casual way. 'Yeh, well. We'll see.'
I glance over at the lobby, and just notice the receptionist glance down. She had been looking up, in our direction, and I wonder casually if she's overheard anything.
***
Back at my desk, I gather the paperwork and collect Roger and we make our way upstairs. We meet Michelle and Sandra outside Diana's office. I take my hair out its clasp and run my fingers through it and re-clasp it. I brush my neck and make sure my earrings are sitting nicely. As Diana strolls round her open door to invite us all in to her office, I'm beginning to wind my necklace round a fingertip in nervousness.
She has one hand in her trouser pocket, her long forearms bare where the cuffs of her light blue blouse rest just below her elbows. I just know that her suit jacket will be hanging carelessly over the back of her chair, and despite my nervousness, I feel my fingers itch to rescue it and hang it up properly where it won't need ironing again. I tell myself not to feel so bloody domesticated, and remind myself that there's nothing much less likely at the moment than that I get to do Diana's ironing for her. She looks good, and I realise that it's at least partly because she doesn't care about the ironing. She looks relaxed and confident, and her reading glasses are actually resting on her nose for once, and I always think that makes her look intelligent and in control and sexy. I realise I'm holding my breath as I wait for her to look at me. She rakes her gaze over the others, inviting us all in to her office. She stands casually against her door to let us all past.
Finally, just before I step forward, she looks at me and I release my held breath. The corners of her mouth twitch upwards, and just for a second her face softens. I feel my insides begin to dissolve. She does look at me for a second or two too long, and I hate myself for liking the sparkle of obvious interest so much. As I walk past, I can feel her eyes on my bum and the shape of my back and hips in my dress. It does feel good to have her interest back, though.
I take my normal seat, at right angles to her along the side of the table, and cross my legs and give in to enjoying the way her gaze unhurriedly takes in my legs and boots and the way my dress rises the tiniest amount above my knees.
***
It's a good meeting. Everyone is focussed, and in a good mood, and it doesn't take too long. Diana is the most gracious and human I've ever seen her. She thanks us all for our work, and promises to let us know what comes of the case.
She pulls off her glasses and rests them on the top of the case files in front of her. There is something about the way she does so – a slight resignation, a carefulness to the movement – that makes me look twice at her face. There are tiny lines around the corners of her eyes, and her cheeks are a little paler than normal. She looks tired. When she glances over at me, there's a little flash of something in her lovely brown eyes that I think is meant for just me. A relief at seeing me, maybe, as if I could be something special to her, something above and beyond work. As if I could help her relax.
***
As we all shuffle out of her office, she happens to be next to me, slightly behind. I'm waiting for the others to move away from the table. I feel Diana lean her hand on the edge of the table, and I feel her arm begin to press my hip. I feel my breath catch and hold it in for a moment. In the month or so of my trying, this is the first time she has made a move to touch me in a way that is flirty rather than overtly sexual. It's just what I've always wanted from her, and the timing is absolutely appalling. Even so, I lean slightly backwards, disguising the move by uncrossing my ankles, and to my delight her arm remains warm and firm through my dress. I feel her move up behind me. I enjoy the way her body fits against mine for a second, and the way her hand slightly turns so that her fingers are almost cupping the shape of my bum.
People move, the moment is broken. My body throbs with the sensation of being so close to Diana, at feeling her fingers through my clothes. I glance at her over my shoulder and catch her eye. She smiles, in a way she doesn't usually smile at other people. 'I'm going to miss this,' I say. I could be referring to the meetings.
'Me too.' She reaches up with the hand that was just now touching my bum, and rubs the back of her neck. 'We have...we have things in common.' She checks no-one else is listening. She clears her throat. 'Come and see me again. Please.'