I've Got Your Number

“Well, it’s an honor. Absolute honor. And Sam.” The olive-skinned guy claps him on the back. “My main man. Couldn’t do what we do without you.”

I stare at him indignantly. He was calling Sam a “stubborn fuck’ a moment ago.

“Thanks, Justin.” Sam smiles tightly.

It is Justin Cole. I was right. He looks as sneery in real life as he does in his emails.

I’m about to ask Sir Nicholas what the prime minister’s really like, when a young guy approaches us nervously.

“Sam! Sorry to interrupt. I’m Matt Mitchell. Thanks so much for volunteering. It’s going to make such a difference to our project to have you on board.”

“Volunteering?” Sam shoots a sharp look at me.

Oh God. I have no idea. My mind is working overtime, trying to recall. Volunteering … volunteering … what was it again …

“For the expedition to Guatemala! The exchange program!” Matt Mitchell is glowing. “We’re so excited that you want to sign up!”

My stomach flips over. Guatemala. I’d totally forgotten about Guatemala.

“Guatemala?” echoes Sam, with a kind of rictus smile on his face.

Now I remember. I sent that email quite late at night. I think I’d had a glass of wine or two. Or … three.

I risk a tiny peek at Sam, and his expression is so thunderous, I want to slink away. But the thing is, it sounded like an amazing opportunity. And from what I’ve seen of his schedule, he never takes a holiday. He should go to Guatemala.

“We were all really touched by your email, Sam.” Matt grasps Sam’s hand earnestly with both of his. “I never knew you felt that way about the developing world. How many orphans do you sponsor?”

“Sam! Oh my God!” A dark-haired girl, quite drunk, lurches up to the group and elbows Matt out of the way, making him drop Sam’s hand. She’s looking highly flushed and her mascara is smudged, and she grabs Sam’s hand herself. “Thank you so much for your e-card about Scamper. You made my day, you know that?”

“It’s quite all right, Chloe,” Sam says tightly. He darts an incandescent glance of fury at me, and I flinch.

“Those beautiful things you wrote,” she gulps. “I knew when I read them you must have lost a dog yourself. Because you understand, don’t you? You understand.” A tear rolls down her cheek.

“Chloe, do you want to sit down?” says Sam, extricating his hand, but Justin cuts in, a malicious grin at his lips.

“I’ve heard about this famous e-card. Could I see it?”

“I’ve got a printout.” Wiping her nose, Chloe drags a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, and Justin immediately grabs it.

“Oh, now, this is beautiful, Sam,” he says, scanning it with mock admiration. “Very moving.”

“I’ve shown everybody in the department.” Chloe nods tearfully. “They all think you’re amazing, Sam.”

Sam’s hand is clenching his glass so hard, it’s turning white. He looks like he wants to press an ejector button and escape. I’m feeling really, really bad now. I didn’t realize I’d sent quite so many emails. I’d forgotten about Guatemala. And I shouldn’t have sent the e-card. If I could go back in time, that’s the moment I’d go up to myself and say, “Poppy! Stop! No e-card!”

“Young Scamper’s joined his friends in heaven, but we are left to weep,” Justin reads aloud in a stagy voice. “His furry fur, his eyes so bright, his bone upon the seat.” Justin pauses. “Not sure seat exactly rhymes with weep, Sam. And why is his bone on the seat, anyway? Hardly hygienic.”

“Give that here.” Sam makes a swipe for it, but Justin dodges, looking delighted.

“His blanket empty in his bed, the silence in the air. If Scamper now is looking down, he’ll know how much we cared.” Justin winces. “Air? Cared? Do you know what a rhyme is, Sam?”

“I think it’s very touching,” says Sir Nicholas cheerfully.

“Me too,” I say hurriedly. “I think it’s brilliant.⁷⁰”

“It’s so true.” Tears are streaming down Chloe’s face. “It’s beautiful because it’s true.”

She’s absolutely plastered. She’s completely fallen out of one of her stilettos and doesn’t even seem to have noticed.

“Justin,” says Sir Nicholas kindly. “Maybe you could get Chloe a glass of water.”

“Of course!” Justin deftly pockets the sheet. “You don’t mind if I keep this poem of yours, do you, Sam? It’s just so special. Have you ever thought of working for Hallmark?” He escorts Chloe away and practically dumps her on a chair. A moment later I see him gleefully beckoning to the group he was with earlier and pulling the paper out of his pocket.

I almost don’t dare look at Sam, I feel so guilty.

“Well!” says Sir Nicholas, looking amused. “Sam, I had no idea you were such an animal lover.”

“I’m not.” Sam seems barely able to operate his voice. “I … ”

I’m trying frantically to think of something I can say to redeem the situation. But what can I do?