“Sorry, let’s talk about something cheerier,” Pamela said. “I wanted to chat to you both about the wedding favors, and whether you wanted the sugared almonds in boxes or…”
Four hours later, Nova lay curled up in Craig’s arms in bed. Downstairs, she could hear the TV playing, although not loudly enough to cover David and Pamela’s muttered conversation about her.
“Don’t listen to them, Mum loves a drama,” Craig whispered into the back of her head.
“I’m so sorry I’ve brought this on us,” Nova said. “Moving down here was supposed to be a fresh start, and I’ve ruined it already.”
“Stop it, this isn’t your fault. That money should never have been left in the petty cash tin in the first place.”
“But what if we don’t manage to get it back?” Nova turned to face him, her eyes wide in the dark. “I can’t lose my job again, not after everything that happened with—”
“Shh, don’t upset yourself,” Craig said, reaching out and stroking her hair.
“If they sack me for gross negligence then I’ll never get another job,” Nova said, fighting back a sob.
“Of course you will.” Craig brushed a tear from her cheek. “And if for any reason you can’t, it wouldn’t be a total disaster. I’m earning a decent salary at the garage, so if the worst comes to the worst, I could support us both for a bit.”
“But I love being a youth worker; it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“I know, but all I’m saying is that I don’t want you to panic if you do end up losing your job. We’d be okay, I promise. I’ll look after you.”
Craig pulled her into his chest and Nova closed her eyes, inhaling his comforting soapy scent. This was one of the many things she loved about Craig: his ability to make her feel safe. Back in the darkest days after her dad died, days when Nova thought she might never be able to get out of bed again, Craig had spent hours holding her like this while she cried. He’d been the one who’d brought her endless cups of sugary tea and made sure she ate, even when the thought of food made her sick; the one to gently wash her hair and pick out her clothes when even the simplest decision overwhelmed her. So, although the thought of what was to come at work was terrifying, at least she knew she’d always have Craig by her side.
—
The following morning, Nova spent ages choosing what to wear. One of the things she loved about clothes, and vintage ones in particular, was how they could shape her mood for the day: how she could go from feeling fun to serious to sexy by simply putting on a certain dress or the perfect pair of boots. With this in mind, she’d initially dressed in a pair of wide-legged, houndstooth trousers and a chic 1930s cropped jacket she’d found in a flea market in London. The outfit made her feel smart and self-possessed, but then she’d askedCraig his opinion and he’d gently suggested that she might want to wear something a bit more “normal” for her big meeting with Sandy—that maybe today wasn’t the day for “fashion statements”—and so Nova had changed into a pair of jeans and a simple blouse. She also toned down her makeup, although she did put on her favorite red, faux-fur coat, which she and her dad had found years ago in Camden Market.
It was usually just her and Sandy on the early shift on a Friday, but as Nova pulled into the community center car park, she saw Lauren waiting for her by the front door, holding two takeaway cups.
“I thought you could do with a bit of moral support,” she said, handing Nova one of the cups as she got out of the car. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty nauseous. I’ve been up since five a.m., panicking.”
“How did the Pritchards take the news?”
“Pamela and David freaked out, but thankfully Craig was super supportive.”
“As he should be, otherwise I’d have kicked that boy’s arse! Now, shall we go inside and find out what’s going on?”
Nova took a deep breath and nodded, and together the two women headed into the center. The office door was open and the light on inside, and as they walked in, they found Sandy behind her computer. From the toast crumbs and empty mugs on her desk, it looked as if she’d been there for a while.
“Morning, Sandy,” Lauren said.
“Morning.” She was scribbling on a piece of paper and didn’t look up as they walked in. “You two had better sit down.”
Nova glanced at Lauren and grimaced. They both sat in their chairs and waited for her to finish what she was doing.
“So, I met with Tina and the team at the council last night,” Sandysaid, and when she looked up, Nova saw that her eyes were red-rimmed behind her glasses. “As you can imagine, it wasn’t a particularly pleasant meeting. They’re furious about the missing money and—”
“They’re going to sack me, aren’t they?” Nova interrupted.
“I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” Sandy said, thrusting a pen into her thick curls. “I knew it was trouble the moment I walked into the room. The head of finance was there, awful man, and he gave a long, waffling speech about reduced central government funding and budgetary constraints. And then he told me the community center was a poor return on the council’s investment and they’d been considering ‘alternative arrangements that might help alleviate the council’s current funding deficit.’ ”
“Which means?” Lauren said.
“Which means they want to end our lease on this place and sell the building off. And this stolen money has given them the perfect excuse to do it.”
“What?” Lauren spat. “Those bastards!”
