‘But youaresomeone who can’t pay your own way, because you don’t work.’
‘And whose fault is that?’
‘Iar începem,’ he mutters. He always reverts to his native tongue when he’s angry.
‘In English,’ I say.
‘I’ve moved on and rebuilt my career, and you need to do the same.’
I unzip my suitcase and begin removing my clothes. He shakes his head at the half a dozen moisturisers and oils I also purchased.
‘It’s easy for you because you’re a man,’ I huff. ‘The public has forgiven you. They don’t forgive women. Especiallyotherwomen. There’s no work for me out there.’
‘Rahat.’
I recognise that one, it means ‘bullshit’.
‘We share a manager, remember?’ he says. ‘Geri tells me each time she comes to you with a job offer, you turn it down.’
‘And does she tell you why I turn them down? Because they’re beneath me. Margot Rosetti is better than the shitty little reality programmes Geri keeps trying to talk me into. I am not going to jerk off a pig on a farm to entertain the public. I’m not going tobe locked in a coach with a group of TikTok tossers for a holiday from hell in Hungary. Haven’t I been humiliated enough for you?’
‘You are only as good as your last job, and you don’t have a last job.’
I throw my make-up bag on to the bed. ‘So you’re saying I’m good for nothing? Is that it?’
Nicu knows he’s stepped too far over the line and backtracks. ‘That’s not what I meant. I’m saying you need to go back to work.’
‘I find it difficult, you know that. You heard my therapist when she diagnosed me with PTSD.’
‘She wasn’t a therapist; she was someone you talked to on X.’
‘She had a PhD in psychology.’
‘Which you only have her word for. And if you do have PTSD, what have you done to try and overcome it? Nothing. You use it as an excuse to sit around doing nothing all day but spending my money.’
‘Once!I got to pamper myselfoncein Christ knows how long, and now you’re punishing me for it.’
‘You can pamper yourself every day of the week as far as I care, as long as you’re paying for it. Enough is enough, Margot.’
He is too bloody stupid to realise I haven’t only done this for myself. I hoped my refresh might make him notice me again. I’m sick of being his blind spot.
‘You’re not spending another penny until you get a job,’ he adds. ‘I’m the primary name on our bank accounts. I can have all your credit cards cancelled with one phone call unless you sort yourself out.’
As he leaves the room, I hurl the first thing at him that comes to hand, a bottle of nail polish remover. It hits the door and the bottle bursts, spraying a sharp-smelling liquid across the wallpaper and carpet.
If he thinks I’m cleaning that up, he has another think coming.
Chapter 19
Liv
Brandon and the kids are in the snug when I return home. They’re huddled under decorative sofa throws and ensconced in aHey DuggeeandBlueymarathon on BBC iPlayer.
‘Mummy!’ shouts Rupert, the first to spot me.
He scrambles towards me, hugging my thighs. Ingrid follows and I pretend to fall on to the sofa. God I love these kids. Even Cat Face sidles up to me, burying her face in my neck.
‘How are we all?’ I ask as they throw themselves back on the sofa and in front of the television.
