My hand red raw from the hot mug, I try to focus on the mail-merge job contract letter I’m composing, but the musky smell of the Stargazer lilies in the vase on the table by my desk distracts me. Most days I would find it lovely, but Simon bought these, and when I think of Simon it’s a reminder of how stupid I was to think I could relax into happiness. He brought a bouquet of these for me, and a small, funkier one made of bright unusual flowers I couldn’t name for Ava. They’re in a vase in the office kitchen. I didn’t take them home. There’s enough going on without having to explain him to her as well. Penny didn’t send her flowers, after all, so why would a stranger? Ava would know there was something not entirely professional about it all.
I wanted to get her something myself to show that I am proud of her. I want to try to tell her she is my everything, and pride isn’t a big enough word for how she makes me feel when I see her being kind and sweet and selfless. But all of this is bound up so tightly with the truth of everything inside me, that even if I wanted to tell her, I could never undo the knots.
‘Have either of you taken any money from the petty cash box?’
I’ve been so busy staring at my screen while my thoughts race I didn’t notice Penny coming out of her office. Her voice is low, her back to the rest of the room.
‘No,’ Marilyn says.
‘Not me,’ I add. My mouth is dry. Suddenly what I saw this morning is making more sense.
‘It’s twenty pounds short, I think,’ Penny says. ‘It’s happened a couple of times now.’
‘How many times do we have to tell you to lock the cash tin?’ Marilyn should have been a mother. She has the perfect tone for it. ‘The cleaners are probably having it.’
‘I lock my desk.’ Even as she says it, Penny’s face is half-admitting the lie. ‘Well, when I remember.’
‘Make sure you do from now on,’ I say.
‘I probably took it myself,’ Penny mutters. ‘Brain like a sieve these days. Bloody hormones.’
As she walks away, I see Julia heading over to the photocopier. Penny smiles at her; a warm expression of open fondness. Julia, the new golden girl. I should say something. I really should.
‘You okay?’ Marilyn asks.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ I say. ‘Just trying to figure out what to cook for tea.’
‘Rock’n’roll, Lisa.’ She grins at me. ‘Our lives are so rock’n’roll.’
I stare at my computer screen and force deep breaths into my lungs. It’s all too much. The world is starting to choke me, fingers tightening around my throat.
23
AVA
It’s been weird since the thing at the river, but I have to admit, the attention has been nice. Better still, I look okay in most of the pictures printed, which is a major result. My Facebook has gone crazy. So many new friend requests – seems like everyone at KEGS wants to know me now – and there are so many posts about how great I am. A little bit of me is pissed off the exams are over and so I can’t go into school and revel in all this glory, even though I know that’s really shallow.
The only person not fawning all over me is Courtney. He’s gone a little cool and I think he’s sussing out that I’m going to ditch him. Or maybe he’s jealous of all the attention I’m getting.
Maybe that’s why Mum’s being a bit of a moody cow too. Could she be jealous? He tells me she’s a drain on me. That she’s selfish to want me to stay her baby forever. He says she’s dragging me down and I shouldn’t pander to her. I think maybe he’s right. He’s been amazing though. He said he wasn’t surprised at what I did at all because he knows that’s the kind of woman I am. Brave and strong and beautiful, and he’s such a lucky man to have me. He called me a woman.
It makes me shiver to think about it. Not a girl any more. A woman. His woman. I’m the lucky one. When he calls me beautiful, I feel it. Normally, if someone pays me a compliment it has the opposite effect. I feel clumsy and awkward and so aware of all the things that are wrong with me. Not when he does it, though. Perhaps that’s what love really is. And in a few days I’m going to see him! I can’t wait. I’m so excited. There’s just one other thing to sort out beforehand.
I stare down at the Boots bag on my bed. I should do it. Maybe after tea. It’s not going to be positive, that would be crazy, but still there’s a nugget of fear in my stomach. I’ll feel better when it’s done and I know either way. And as Jodie says, even if it is positive – please God don’t let it be positive – it can be sorted out. Taken care of. At least it’s the summer holidays. If I need an abortion I can do it while Mum’s at work. She’ll never know.
24
LISA
‘I couldn’t get hold of you. Your phone’s going straight to answerphone. Richard’s out for an hour doing a quote, so I thought I’d pop over.’
I can’t decide if I’m happy to see her or not. I’ve just finished washing the dinner plates after a less than pleasant chicken salad with Ava, who grunted answers to my questions and has now locked herself away in her room, her friends no doubt on their way over, only ever fleeting figures on the stairs. I’m not sure I have the energy for Marilyn now. I’m emotionally exhausted. It takes everything I have to stay in this state of nervous anxiety alert.
‘What’s up?’ I ask, boiling the kettle.
‘Nothing’s up with me.’ She slings her bag over the corner of a chair before flopping into it. ‘But you were a bit off this afternoon. Something on your mind?’
I can feel her eyes on my back as I busy my hands getting mugs and tea bags and milk. I have to tell her something. She knows me too well if also not at all. She knows my tics. I need to give her something and I can’t tell her about my worries from the weekend so I choose the lesser of two evils.
‘I think I know who took the petty cash.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Who?’
I pour the hot water and join her at the table.
‘Julia,’ I say. ‘It’s Julia.’
For a moment Marilyn says nothing, and then she exhales loudly. ‘I should have known. The way she’s always sucking up to Penny with little gifts for the office, or cakes for everyone. How did you find out?’
‘I got in to work early today.’ I’ve been in early every day since the weekend. Anything is better than lying awake with all my worries and it’s not like I have to get Ava up for school now the exams are done. ‘Sorting out the details for the Manning contracts. When I got there, she was coming out of Penny’s office. I startled her.’
‘Did she say what she was doing?’
‘Putting some invoices on her desk.’
‘Maybe she was?’
‘I checked when she went to get coffee and she had put some papers in there. But this is Julia. She wouldn’t be so stupid as to go in there without a reason.’
I see a flicker of doubt on Marilyn’s face.
‘There’s more,’ I say. ‘Something happened at the salsa club night. You know, the office party. Something I saw.’
‘Go on.’ I start to tell the story and she leans forward as I speak as if sucking in my words from the air, to savour and swallow them, until finally I finish and we both sit back.
‘Why didn’t you say something?’
‘What could I say?’ I shrug. ‘I didn’t have any proof. It’s not like I caught her red-handed. I was on the other side of the room and by the time I realised what she’d done she was halfway to the bar. It would have been my word against hers, and you know what Penny’s like, she probably wouldn’t have known how much cash she had in her wallet, let alone if twenty pounds was missing from it.’
‘We need to tell Penny,’ she says. Decisive. She’s always decisive.
‘But there’s still no proof.’
‘Then we get some. We can set a trap. Mark the notes in the box or something and do a spot check.’
‘We’re not the police, Maz.’ I half-laugh. ‘We can’t go around demanding people show us what’s in their wallets.’ The relief of telling is being consumed by the anxiety of potential action.
‘We’ve got to do something. Penny thinks the sun shines out of that girl’s arse.’
‘She’s not a girl. Look more closely. I bet she’s not far off our age.’
‘You think?’
I shrug.
‘Thank God I’m married, eh? I can let it all go.’
I almost laugh. Marilyn has never let herself go. Me, maybe, but I never had it in the first place.
‘You’re not doing so bad,’ I say. ‘For an old bird.’
‘Cow.’
We both smile and it feels good, even with the constant nausea and ache in my stomach.
‘We need a drink,’ she says, decisive again. ‘I’m driving but I can have one. Sod it. Get your bag. Let’s go to the pub.’
‘But Ava …’ I mutter.