lucky.’
‘Yes, you have,’ Nina smiled, ‘but you deserve it. The most exotic place I get to visit is the local sandwich bar whenever her ladyship wants a BLT. Other than that, it’s the photocopy room or, on a good day, the stock cupboard. I wouldn’t mind so much if she was civil to me.’
‘She’s a cow!’ Janey stated with a frown.
‘Janey!’ Nina said in a reprimanding tone, although she was laughing, too.
‘Oh, you’re such a saint, Nina, but Hilary Jackson would even make a saint swear. Why don’t you admit it – she’s a complete bitch who doesn’t value you a jot!’
‘Oh, Janey!’ Nina couldn’t help giggling at her friend’s passionate defence of her.
‘What about when she made you take that enormous file home to put all those invoices into date order?’
‘I know, but I guess it was a job that had to be done,’ Nina said with a shrug, before taking the biggest sip of wine she could.
‘Yes, but in company time – not when you had a girls’ night out planned. I bet she didn’t pay you overtime for it either, did she?’
Nina shook her head. ‘No, she didn’t,’ she said, realising that she had been trampled on for so long that even her friend had noticed. Why oh why hadn’t she done anything about it before, she wondered? But perhaps the time was now. After all, she had taken control and ended things with Matt, so surely she could do the same with Hilary, she reasoned. This, she realised, could be a whole new beginning for her.
‘And remember when she swore at you for sending that letter to the wrong director – which was her fault anyway because she couldn’t ever get her facts straight.’
Nina sighed. ‘I know, I know!’
‘And there’s no need for her to be so rude to you all the time. That woman’s got more hard edges than a Neolithic flint! It’s not on.’ Janey shook her head in despair. ‘So what are we going to do about it?’
‘I don’t know – something,’ Nina said, suddenly hiccupping.
‘Oh, no, Nina – not hiccups again! That’s another thing too. I never knew you to hiccup before you took that dreadful job.’
‘Of course I hiccupped! Everyone hiccups.’
‘Yes, but not like that. Not with nervous tension.’
‘It’s not nervous tension. It’s probably just wine,’ Nina said, giving her loudest hiccup yet.
‘You know what you should do, of course? You should just tell Hilary Jackson where she can stick her job and leave,’ Janey advised, getting into her stride as agony aunt.
‘You think so?’ Nina said, a tiny smile emerging at last.
‘Yes I do.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that. Clear your desk out, tell her what you really think of her and go. Easy. You’re far too good to be stuck in that box with Hilary forever. You’re intelligent, attractive—’
‘Soon-to-be unemployed—’ Nina hiccupped again.
‘No! You’ve got to be positive about this. Employers will be trampling over each other to get you on board.’ Janey smiled encouragingly, not happy at seeing her friend so down. ‘Come on, Nina! You’ve been depressed about this for months now. Something’s got to change, hasn’t it? What’s happened to the old girl I know and love – eh? The girl whose picture is in the dictionary under “vivacious”?’
Nina rolled her eyes in disbelief.
‘Well, obviously not today,’ Janey agreed, and a moment’s silence elapsed. ‘Okay,’ Janey began again, ‘let me put it this way. In an ideal world – what would you do? If you could do anything – what would it be?’
Nina looked into her wine glass. What did she want? What did she truly want? She knew it had nothing to do with the present life she was leading, but was an alternative life waiting out there for her? One in which she was truly valued for whom she was? She looked up at Janey.
‘I’d like to go back to the office and press Hilary’s delete button.’
Janey laughed, not really expecting Nina to come out with such an answer. ‘Then do it!’
‘I don’t know. I’ve always been taught not to throw too much caution to the wind in case it changes direction and slaps you in your face.’
‘Look,’ Janey said, placing a tanned hand on Nina’s right shoulder, ‘I think you’ve already made up your mind about this, haven’t you?’
‘Have I?’
‘Yes – you have,’ Janey said, giving her friend’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘So, you might as well try and have a bit of fun. Just repeat after me: “I’m going to tell Hilary where she can stick her job.” Go on!’
‘I’m going to tell Hilary where she can stick her job,’ Nina repeated obediently, suppressing a particularly large hiccup.
Janey smiled. ‘But first, we’re going to have another drink.’
Dominic Milton had almost crashed the car at the traffic lights. It had been her, hadn’t it, dancing through the traffic like a ballerina? The same Sahara-blonde bob, swinging neat as a pendulum. The same lovely face with eyes wide and inquisitive. The face he remembered with such affection from over a decade ago. Nina Elliot.
He arrived home, parking his old Volkswagen in the last available space. It was a large driveway by normal standards, but now that both he and Alex had cars as well as their parents, parking was in pecking order, which meant that Dominic was often forced to park further down the lane.
He turned the engine off and sat looking over the dashboard for a moment, remembering the way that Nina had looked at him, accusingly, unknowingly. She hadn’t recognised him, had she?
He sighed and got out of his car. His mother was home. She’d remember Nina. Ambling up the driveway, shopping bag in hand, he fished for his key and opened the front door.
‘Dom, is that you? Dominic?’ his mother’s voice sang through from the kitchen above the sound of a dog barking.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you get my hairspray?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, reaching into the carrier bag for the golden can. He looked at the price sticker and grimaced, wondering if there was such a thing as a drying-out clinic for cosmetic addicts.
‘You’re an angel,’ Olivia Milton said as she walked into the hallway, kissing her son on the cheek. She smelt wonderful, she always did. It was like nothing he’d ever smelt anywhere else; a sort of condensed talcum powder mixed with old roses. Intoxicating, and as much a part of Olivia as her pearl accessories and high heels.
‘I’ve had such a morning – you wouldn’t believe it! Firstly, Andrea Giles phoned telling me there’s been a crisis and that we’ve lost the speaker for the fundraising dinner we’ve got next week, so I’ve been telephoning everyone in my phone book trying to find somebody else who’s both suitable and available. Then I was trying to make a list of everything we need to organise for this anniversary party and my head was spinning at the enormity of it when your father blasts into the room, accusing me of having moved part of his manuscript. “I haven’t been anywhere near your manuscript!” I told him. I wouldn’t dare, Dommie! He bites my head off if I so much as knock on his study door. Honestly, he really needs a secretary or something. He’s quite impossible!’
Dominic grinned,