‘I’ll give you a handy hint,’ Priya continues with a laugh. ‘He’s not hiding anywhere near Flipper’s bedroom.’
I love Priya, I really do. She’s been my rock in pretty much every crisis I’ve had since I’ve known her. But right now, I could happily murder her.
5
It feels like a year has already passed since New Year’s Eve but, incredibly, there is still one more week of January to go. The weather has been consistently grey and damp, without even a frost to liven things up. On the plus side, Lily’s growing excitement about her upcoming holiday has really lifted the mood in the office. Rosie and Priya also stopped going on about my unfortunate hook-up with Stuart, once I reactivated my profile on a couple of dating apps to prove to them that I’m not holding any form of candle for him. Unfortunately, it seems nothing much has changed since I was last on there. I received no fewer than four dick pics in the first twenty-four hours which, despite an overwhelming urge to reply with something caustic along the lines of ‘Yes, I’d definitely see a doctor about that’, I ignored and deleted. Swiping through the potential matches was rather like going to a particularly tacky car boot sale; although there is lots on offer, it’s not hard to see why nobody has bought it already. I did exchange a few messages with one guy who seemed promising to begin with, only to have to block him when he started asking me to describe my underwear and suggesting I might like to send him pictures of me in it. Umm, no.
I don’t actually mind being single. Yes, I’d like to get married and start a family at some point, but it’s not top of my to-do list at the moment. I know I moan about January, but I do love my life most of the time. London is an exciting, vibrant city to live in, even though it’s expensive. When I was a teenager at secondary school, I initially thought I’d reached peak ‘me’ when I was deemed old enough to get the bus into town by myself. A group of us used to hang around in Maidstone town centre at the weekends, wearing so much makeup that it sometimes felt like our eyelids were glued together while we sucked on vapes that Priya bought for us because she looked the oldest and the guy in the vape shop fancied her. We’d get milkshakes from a grotty burger place that’s since closed down and, as our hormones kicked in, snog spotty, skateboard-wielding boys before spending hours dissecting their technique. One by one, we lost our virginity in a variety of disappointing and surprisingly brief sexual encounters, but the very pinnacle of sophistication was looking old enough to fool the doorman at the local nightclub. I was sixteen when I managed it with the help of some very crude fake ID that Priya also organised through a secretive ‘contact’ that I’m pretty sure was actually the same guy from the vape shop. As Rosie, Priya and I danced our hearts out, fuelled by too much Snakebite, I was convinced that nothing could top this.
It was only when I got the job with Coxsmith Careers and moved to London that I realised how narrow my previous horizons had been. Everything is available here, if you have the money to pay for it. I remember walking down Old Bond Street for the first time, where the dazzling window displays are largely bereft of anything as vulgar as price tags (if you have to ask, you can’t afford it), and almost every shop is guarded by a bored-looking uniformed doorman. I’d imagined myself as one of the glamorous women stepping out of the seemingly endlessparade of chauffeur-driven Bentleys and Rolls-Royces, on their way to blow tens of thousands of pounds on the latest must-have handbag, or whatever, and my previous life seemed a million miles away.
Of course, my reality was, and is, nothing like that. I don’t own a car, let alone a chauffeur-driven one, our flat is tiny and most politely described as a temple to the shabbiest of shabby chic, and the closest I’m ever likely to get to a Hermès Birkin would be one of the knock-off ones that they have at our local market, but I don’t care. Even on a drizzly January day like today, London hums with an energy you just don’t get outside a big city. However, the atmosphere in the office as I step through the door, having taken down my umbrella and carefully shaken the water off it, is definitely not humming with energy. Sonya is concentrating on her screen in the way people do when they’re trying to avoid any form of conversation, and Lily’s face looks like a wet weekend.
‘Good morning, both,’ I say brightly as I head for the kitchen-slash-staff room to hang up my coat.
‘Morning,’ Sonya says flatly without taking her eyes off her screen, just as Lily growls, ‘Is it?’ Her tone is enough to stop me in my tracks. Lily is a gentle soul, usually bright and optimistic and, on the rare occasions she isn’t, she’s tearful rather than angry. I’ve certainly never heard her snarl like she just did.
‘I’m, uh, going to make a cup of tea. Anyone want one?’ I offer. This is thankfully enough to get Sonya to look at me.
‘Yes, I’d love one,’ she says, while tilting her head at Lily and making slashing movements across her throat with her hand.
‘Lily, what about you?’ I persist.
‘Have we got any buckets?’ Lily says miserably. ‘Maybe you could fill one of those with tea and I’ll just drown myself in it.’
‘What’s up?’ I ask, prompting a new flurry of hand-across-the-throat slashes from Sonya.
‘Bloody Fliss and Robert,’ Lily growls.
Unlike me, Lily only swears under extreme provocation, so whatever Fliss and Robert have done is clearly something very bad. The problem is that I have no idea who she’s talking about and it’s clear that she isn’t going to volunteer any more information. I turn to Sonya, who gives me an unsympathetic look and mouths, ‘I told you so,’ before returning her attention to the screen in front of her.
‘OK,’ I say carefully. ‘I’m sorry, Lily, but I don’t know anyone called Fliss. I know we’ve got a Robert Ffrench-Constant on our placement list. Is she something to do with him?’ I’m wracking my brains, trying to remember the name of the HR woman at the firm we’re hoping to place Robert in, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced her name is Shirley. Maybe this Fliss is a rival candidate from another agency, but there’s nothing unusual about a placement not coming to fruition because someone else has put forward a better fit. I’m still trying to work out who it could be when Lily speaks again.
‘You wouldn’t,’ she says with a deep sigh. ‘I don’t know them that well myself, but they’ve still managed to ruin my holiday.’
‘What? How?’
‘The hotel is new, and one of the opening offers is a discount for groups of six or more, which is the only way Dan and I can afford this.’
‘Yes, you said.’
‘So Amy invited Robert and Fliss to make up the final two. They’re friends of hers.’
‘Right.’
‘Except Robert and Fliss have just split up. Actually, to use Amy’s words, they’ve imploded. So they’ve pulled out, which means there’s only four of us and we no longer qualify for the group rate.’
‘Why would the hotel care? If six people have paid for the holiday and only four show up, it’s not like they’re going to be out of pocket, is it?’
‘Yes, but we haven’t paid the full balance yet. The final instalment is due at the end of this week and Robert and Fliss are unsurprisingly not prepared to pay it if they’re not coming. That means our only option is to pay the full balance without the group discount, which we can’t do. And, because the deposit is non-refundable this close to the departure date, not only can we no longer afford to go, we lose everything we’ve paid so far.’
‘Can’t you find another couple to take their place?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to do, but everyone I’ve spoken to has said it’s too short notice, they can’t afford it or both.’
I think for a moment. ‘Is there any possibility that Robert and Fliss will reconcile?’
Another deep sigh. ‘Amy thinks hell will probably freeze over first.’
