‘Sarah, how the hell are you?’
Cathy and Miriam stared up at her, empty food wrappers strewn on the table in front of them.
‘Hi, Cathy. I’m surprised you guys are still here. Isn’t your lunch break over?’
‘Still a stickler for the rules, hey?’ said Miriam, a sly grin creeping across her face. ‘You know, the place isn’t the same without you?’
‘Oh?’ A flutter of hope stirred in Sarah’s stomach. Could she could get her old job back?
‘No, it’s not,’ simpered Cathy. ‘Everyone’s happy for a start.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah, it’s just so much more relaxed. Longer breaks, less stress. You did us all a favour by quitting. We should get back, but I couldn’t leave without thanking you.’
Panic prickled the edges of Sarah’s body. She pictured Cathy and Miriam reporting back on Sarah’s fall from grace. How they’d laugh. With horror, she realised it wouldn’t be long before the fitters turned up at the restaurant to see Sarah’s downfall for themselves.
‘I have to go,’ said Sarah, heading for the door.
‘Love the uniform,’ called Miriam, the sound of her and Cathy’s laughter following Sarah out of the door.
Sarah ran down the high street, only stopping when she reached a park. Paint peeled from children’s play equipment, empty cans of lager spilled out of a bin, but at least it was quiet. Sarah sat on a bench and looked down at herself. Her black trousers bulged at the thighs. The orange T-shirt they had given her was too small. Around her middle, it looked like someone had shoved several rubber rings up her top, her breasts straining at the seams above.
A thought nagged her that perhaps it was time to move on. But if she did, there was no guarantee things would be any better in a new place. The scenery would change, not her life. Sarah kicked an empty beer can in frustration. It wasn’t like she was asking for a lot. All she wanted was a decent job, a decent place to live, a safe, comfortable life. She didn’t want to be rich; she didn’t want to be famous. God, it wasn’t like she was asking for the earth.
Sarah pulled a crumpled piece of paper and pen from her bag. It was no use wallowing. She began making a list of how to crawl out of the pit she’d fallen into:
Look for a place to live
Search online for a different job.
Try to get hold of Dad.
Her pen hovered over the paper. If she wrote the next action point down, she’d have to stick to it. Damn her own efficiency. Was it worth the risk? Sarah took a deep breath and put pen to paper.
Register with a dating site.
Sarah folded her to-do list into her pocket and left the park. At least the latest panic attack had resulted in an unexpected afternoon off. Sarah wondered if she’d get sick pay, but decided it was unlikely. The working practices at the burger bar were less than standard.
Leaving the park bench behind, Sarah walked home with a new sense of purpose.
Chapter 10
Overhermorningcoffee,Sarah perused the latest goings on in the local paper. Her home town wasn’t so bad; there was a new bar opening, a local school fund-raiser and an interview from a B list reality TV star who had grown up in the town.
Things were looking up. Sarah had four flats to view, had circled six jobs in the paper, and within minutes of signing up to a dating site, had her first date booked in for that evening.
She’d had to tell a white lie to get the day off, phoning her boss to say she still felt under the weather. It wasn’t a complete lie. The panic attacks left her exhausted, and a good night’s sleep still proved elusive. With a positive day stretching before her, Sarah downed the dregs of her coffee and pulled on her coat, ready for her first appointment.
The first flat Sarah viewed was in the town centre, above a boarded-up shop. The outside wasn’t up to much, but Sarah told herself not to judge a book by its cover as she waited for the estate agent to arrive.
‘Hi, you must be Sarah?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Great. Let’s head up to the flat, shall we? Like I said on the phone, it needs a bit of updating, but a lick of paint should do the trick.’
‘Isn’t that the landlord’s job?’
