‘Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling! I love it!’ A warm rush of relief flows through me, quickly followed by unease as my eyes land on the Post-its, the patterns etched out across the floor. My thoughts about my feelings for Spence still ringing in my ears.
‘I…’ I swallow, sinking onto the sofa. I press the phone to my ear, trying to steady my breathing. ‘I’m so glad.’
‘That article is just everything! And Michael, Kate, the whole ships passing in the night… Just glorious.’
‘Thank you. So, you’ll run it?’
‘Darling, I’m going to do more than run it. You’re back! It’s a different you, so I’m thinking a total rebrand. I’ve alreadypitched it in our morning meeting and the whole team is super excited. We bring you back, we reshape the narrative. A whole new column, long-lost loves, finding family… Our readership is changing, darling. They want nostalgia, they want hope. Podcasts are leading the way with current affairs, but this? This will have them desperate to follow. The article is outstanding, but we can stagger it. Each week, a new instalment. It will be our lead in the Sunday sup. And your byline will run at the top, front and centre. There will be no mistaking this is your piece.’
My hands are shaking, blood rushing in my ears.
‘It’s a new opportunity to spread your wings. You can’t have your old desk back but there’s one with a gorgeous view and…’ I lean back, my head resting against the cushions as she continues.
‘And then we can talk salary. So, darling, how soon do you think you can come back, hmmm? I was thinking next month officially but if you pop in? I can’t tell you how excited we all are!’
‘I… This is amazing.’ My voice cracks. ‘I wasn’t expecting all this…’ I lick my bottom lip. This is everything I’ve strived for. The type of journalist I wanted to be, but onmyterms. I get to research the past, focus on love stories, stories with heart. The past and the present. ‘I was expecting a short one-off supplement…’
‘Darling, forget I even suggested that. I don’t know what I was thinking, with your talent…’
She continues talking, but as my eyes focus on the photos surrounding me, it’s like I’m being pulled in two directions. Half of me yearning to speak to Spence, wanting to tell him, wanting him to tell me he feels the same. The other half pulling me back to the joy of a successful career. Back to my old life.
‘Let me know when you can come in, hmmm? Tomorrow?No, Davy! Christ alive. I said the right…’ She cuts off and I’m sat with my phone in my hands. My finger traces the edge ofSpence’s face in the photo next to me. The feelings surge again. This time, I’m sure.
I’m in love with him.
I’ve waited long enough.
* * *
Freshly showered, freshly terrified, I knock on the front door. My heart is in my throat as footsteps head towards me. I take a breath. I have no idea how I’m going to navigate this conversation.
‘Hi!’ my voice comes out before I can register that it’s not Spence at the door.
‘Alice! Hi!’ Heather smiles up at me. Her feet bare, a tea towel in her hands. ‘Come in, come in…’ My throat tightens as she gestures me in, as though I’m a visitor, as though I didn’t help lay the floor that she’s standing on.
‘Spence has just popped out to the post office; he’ll be back in a bit. Coffee?’ she asks, gesturing for me to follow her through. She opens the correct cupboard without hesitation. ‘Just a second,’ she adds, smiling.
‘George! Lunch is ready!’
I pull out a chair and sit down, fingers tracing the knots in the wood.
‘Hey, button,’ I say, brightening when Georgia comes in. She’s still in her pyjamas, curly hair not yet tamed.
‘Hi. Um… where’s Dad?’ she asks Heather, eyes quickly glancing at me.
Heather hands her a plate, a wholemeal roll, bunch of grapes and some crisps. ‘Just popped out, he’ll be back in a bit.’
Georgia takes it with a thanks, smiling. She throws an awkward glance back in my direction, acknowledging how weird this all feels.
‘Don’t forget your juice,’ Heather adds, handing her a bottle of something purple.
‘So… how’s things going?’ she asks, joining me, placing a coffee on the table.
‘Good.’
‘And work is going well?’
I bite down the instinct to tell her about the job offer. I need to speak to Spence about that first.
