‘Good,’ Esme says, nodding. ‘That’s all right, then. But good to check, in any case. Can’t be too careful, can you?’
And although it’s not a dig, not this time, Lissa feels the words like a punch to the gut. It’s an echo of what’s been said too many times before. That what happened over twenty years ago could have been avoided, if only she’d been a little more careful.
Chapter Ten
Lissa meets Darcy at their favourite coffee shop in the centre of Bath on Friday early afternoon, having got anI’m boredWhatsApp about an hour before. They’d spent the morning in a ‘brainstorm’ meeting, discussing ideas for the creative for a homeware company they’d just won the account on. And Lissa uses the inverted commas because it was very much Liam talkingatthem, with the occasional input from Mark. She had a moment during the meeting to remember that she’d once thought marketing might be fun, a way to use her creative skills, before Liam killed any and all hope of that.
‘Do you think we should feel guilty?’ she asks as she and Darcy carry their cappuccinos to a table by the window – oat milk, because since finding out how many antibiotics they pump into the poor cows, she’s decided to steer well clear of dairy for health reasons.
Darcy frowns as she takes a seat in a squishy chair. ‘Guilty?’
‘About not working right now.’
‘Oh.’ Darcy waves a hand in the air, fingernails painted purple, and makes apffnoise. ‘After the meeting this morning, we deserve a coffee break. Plus Liam had me working in the office until gone eight the other evening because there was a mess-up with the Facebook advertising – honestly, that kind of behaviour is something that’s only okay for the likes of Mark.’ She takes a pointed sip of her coffee. ‘Speaking of which, I’m guessing the incredibly awkward dance you and he did in the kitchen on Wednesday means that things are not going well?’
‘Things are not going at all, in fact.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Hmm? Is that supposed to mean you disapprove? Because you’re the one who keeps saying you’ll magically justknowwhen you meet The One, so why should that not apply to me too?’
Darcy raises her eyebrows. She’s wearing a red roll-neck jumper today, to go with her signature red lipstick. ‘No, I just meant, hmm, too bad.’
‘Oh.’ Lissa sips her coffee in an effort to detract from the wave of embarrassment. It’s Mia getting to her, telling her she should try harder. ‘Well, all right then.’
Darcy snorts a laugh. ‘Sore subject, I see.’
Lissa sighs. ‘I think I’m just regretting going there in the first place – it’s made the office even more unbearable.’
‘Well not for long, right?’ Darcy says. ‘How’s the job hunting going?’
‘I mean, not great. This week I’ve had rejections from a museum, Bath City Council, and that posh hotel, you know the one by the Baths, for a trainee chef position.’
Darcy bursts out laughing. ‘A chef? Seriously? Why onearthdid you think you could be a chef?’
‘Atraineechef,’ Lissa says pointedly, then laughs too. ‘I don’t know, I was getting desperate and I thought it might be fun. It’s creative, and I like to cook, and feeding people is purposeful, isn’t it?’
‘Purposeful?’
‘It’s just something my mum said, about her job giving her purpose, and I thought …’ She shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. I’m being stupid.’
‘No you’re not. You’re trying to figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life, that’s not stupid.’ Darcy hesitates, then, ‘A museum?’
‘Art curator,’ Lissa says with a shrug. ‘But they want someone with a degree in art history.’
‘Ah. And what did you do again?’
‘Fine art.’
Darcy nods thoughtfully, coffee cup halfway to her lips. Around them there is the sound of coffee beans grinding, along with the screams of a toddler at a nearby table. ‘You know,’ she says musingly, ‘I’m not totally sure I know what fine art actually is.’
‘Well exactly.’
‘Is it, like, in opposition tounfine art?’ Lissa snorts. ‘Maybe you should just become an artist?’
Lissa wrinkles her nose at that suggestion. She loves sketching, and she can paint pretty well, but she can’t imagine anything worse than sitting alone with nothing but your thoughts for company and all that pressure to create. She admires people who can do it, but she knows categorically that she could not. She just wishes she could find a way to honour the passion somehow while still having a sensible job that she can rely on to pay the bills.
‘A teacher?’ Darcy suggests. ‘You could teach art? That’s purposeful.’
