“My fiancé, I suppose,”Confusedsaid.
“Then there’s your answer. You can get pizza anytime from any place. Care and understanding are more difficult to come by.”
Ginny wrapped up the call and Tam’s weary voice came through her headphones. “Try making the next call sexier, Gin,” she said. “We don’t want listeners nodding off.”
“I’m here to help, not titillate,” Ginny said through gritted teeth. She ran a hand down her ponytail and picked up a call from the next person on the line. “Hello, it’s Ginny Splinter, I’m listening. Tell me your worries.”
The woman’s voice sounded shaky. “Oh, hello. It’s Miss...Peach.”
“Well, hi there, Miss Peach. Thanks for joining me today,” Ginny said. “Is there anything you’d like to share?”
The caller’s words stuttered out. “I only stayed with my husband for the sake of our child. You make a promise and then you’re stuck with it, for life. I wish I’d got out while I had the chance... I’ve wasted so much precious time and now I don’t know what to do.”
A familiar ache of compassion rose in Ginny’s chest. It was something she welcomed but had also learned to control, so other people’s problems didn’t affect her too deeply. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she soothed. “It sounds like you’ve been through a tough time. There’s nothing you can do to change the past, but you can take control of your future.”
“What if it’s too late forthat?”
“It’s never too late to move on. Focus on yourself and consider what you really want from life—”
“And what if I don’t know?” Miss Peach snapped. “What if I’ve forgotten how to think aboutme?”
Ginny hmm’d and delivered a sympathetic pause while considering what advice to give her caller. People often just needed a gentle push in the right direction. “Why not make a list of all the things you enjoy, perhaps a walk in the country or a trip to the cinema. Try to get to know yourself again and—”
“As ifthatwill work,” Miss Peach interrupted, her tone growing more brittle. “And what doyouknow anyway? You think you’re little Ms. Perfect, don’t you?”
Ginny’s scalp prickled and her mouth dried. Her uneasy sensation made the room tilt a little. She waved a hand, trying to get Tam’s attention through the glass partition, but the producer was busy scrolling on her phone. “This call is about you, not me,” she told Miss Peach. “Please don’t let your regrets eat you up.”
“I’ve seen photos of you and your husband in a magazine. Adrian, isn’t it? You think you have such amarvelouslife together.”
Ginny’s heartbeat began to thump ominously in her ears. A few thousand people would be listening in to this conversation. Oh, god, she hoped Adrian or Phoebe weren’t tuning in. Organizing a wedding was stressful enough for her daughter withoutthis. Ginny drew a finger across her neck, indicating to Tam she was thinking of cutting the caller off.
Her producer didn’t notice.
“Shouldn’t you address your own problems before you lecture other people?” Miss Peach continued. “Do you even know what your husband gets up to at work? How well do youreallyknow him?”
Ginny hesitated and rubbed the double lines between her eyebrows.Of courseshe knew Adrian, from the way the moles on his back formed a diamond shape, to how he liked his toast served warm, not hot, and with butter spread right to the edges. He didn’t like the bedroom to be stuffy so he slept with the window ajar, even if it meant Ginny had to wear socks in bed during winter. He thought Porsches were works of art but would feel like a cliché owning one. He could be grumpy until his morning coffee kicked in and he enjoyed a nice glass of Rioja most evenings. He loved dogs, hated cats, liked dark chocolate but never white and sang Oasis songs while he shaved.
Nevertheless, something icy seemed to slither down her spine. “Miss Peach, what do you mean by—?” Ginny started.
“Askhim,” Miss Peach said.
“Ask himwhat?”
But there was a click and the line went dead.
2
Earring
Ginny tugged off her headphones and marched into the office to where Tam sat cross-legged in her chair.
The producer quickly unfurled her limbs. “Sorry, Gin, I didn’t—”
“I told you we shouldn’t take live calls.” Ginny rapped the desk. “Thisis what can happen. Now listeners might think there’s something wrong with my marriage. My daughter is getting married in five months’ time. What willshethink?”
Tam held up a palm. “Okay, okay. I get it. This is all my bad. Look, let’s line up something calming next, maybe some Fleetwood Mac. I’ll make you a black coffee.” She looked around helplessly. “Or I can buy you one instead.”
“No more live calls,” Ginny said. “Ever.”
