‘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.’
Chapter Two
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, knowing just how difficult his father could be when he was writing his novel and just how melodramatic his mother could be when trying to deal with him.
‘I’m sure everything will work itself out,’ he told her.
It was then that a large fluffy dog tore out of the kitchen, launching itself into the air and crashing into Dominic in his own doggy greeting.
‘Oh, Ziggy!’ Dominic cried, pushing the dog down.
‘He’d absolutely love a walk, Dom!’ Olivia said.
‘You mean you haven’t walked him yet?’
‘I took him out in the garden but you know how he is in the fields. He just drags me along behind him like a ragdoll!’ Olivia said with a sigh.
‘I don’t know why you got him, Mum,’ Dominic said. ‘He’s completely crazy.’
She ruffled the dog’s head. ‘I just couldn’t say no to that face, could I?’ she said in the kind of voice she reserved for animals and small children.
‘You’ve got to get him trained,’ Dominic said, remembering the day five months ago when his mother had arrived home with the out-of-control puppy.
‘I know, I know,’ Olivia said, removing the portion of skirt that had found its way into Ziggy’s mouth before pushing him away from her and turning her attention to her son once more. ‘You all right, Dom?’ she asked, breaking his train of thought.
Dominic looked at his mother. ‘Do you remember Nina?’
‘Nina?’ Olivia walked over to the hall mirror, shook her head upside down and applied a heavy mist of hairspray to her thick red hair.
‘Our babysitter from years ago,’ he added.
‘Oh – Neee-na!’ she stood back up to full height. ‘Well, of course I remember her! She was that lovely girl who looked after you and Alex for – let me see – it must have been at least four years.’
Dominic nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘Gosh, you were such a cute little boy,’ Olivia said, patting his cheek.
‘I wish you wouldn’t do that, Mum,’ Dominic complained. ‘I’m twenty-one, for goodness’ sake.’
‘Never too old for a bit of motherly affection!’ she said. ‘Anyway, what’s all this about Nina?’
‘I just saw her in town,’ Dominic said.
‘Really? How is she?’
‘No, I didn’t speak to her. I nearly ran her over.’
‘WHAT?’ Olivia shrieked. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Yes, of course she’s all right,’ Dominic said, but felt a pang of guilt as he realised that perhaps he should have stopped the car to find out. Too late now, though. ‘Anyway, I thought you might want to invite her to the anniversary party in August.’
‘That’s a lovely idea. The more the merrier,’ Olivia smiled. ‘And we used to all get on so well with Nina, didn’t we? Gosh, remember that time she came with us to the theatre and you were horribly sick into your bag of popcorn?’
‘Oh, Mum! Don’t remind me.’
‘And the time she stayed over and we all went to that stately home the next day and Alex fell in the moat, silly boy!’
Dominic couldn’t help but grin as he remembered his brother’s misfortune. ‘And Nina waded in after him.’
‘Yes! She was priceless – absolutely priceless,’ Olivia said. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without her. I’ve often wondered what became of her. She was like a member of the family. Gosh, Dommie, I’m so pleased she’s back in touch. Give me her address and we’ll send her an invite for the party. I can’t wait to see her again.’
Dominic almost visibly jumped. He hadn’t thought about that, had he? He hadn’t even known where she’d lived twelve years ago, let alone now. She might not even be living in Norwich at all – she might just have been visiting friends before moving on. She could live absolutely anywhere.
He suddenly felt sick. What if he’d missed his one opportunity of finding her again?
Nina walked slowly back to the office. As she arrived, she surreptitiously cupped her hands over her mouth, checking for signs of alcohol. She couldn’t smell anything that would give her away but she certainly felt light-headed. She tried to banish the smile that was threatening to stretch across her whole face. She’d poured three glasses of wine down her throat. She felt so naughty. She’d never had anything stronger than an espresso during her lunch hour before today. What on earth had got into her? Was it really the spirit of rebellion? Was she really about to assert her true self after months of being nothing more than Hilary Jackson’s doormat?
She opened the door into the airless room where Hilary was inspecting a mound of papers on her desk, which looked as if they’d multiplied threefold since Nina had left. It was Hilary’s usual mean trick. Whenever Nina dared to leave her desk, she would invariably find that her workload had increased out of all recognition when she returned. Well, not any
more, she determined. She’d had enough.
‘Ah! There you are,’ Hilary said, making it sound as if Nina had been away on an expedition rather than on her lunch hour. ‘Didn’t you leave me that letter like I asked you?’
‘Yes – it’s on your desk,’ Nina said, indicating as she tried to keep calm.
‘Where?’ Hilary’s voice rose a decibel in disbelief as she raked her hands through her short, spiky hair in agitation.
‘It was right in the centre – where you could find it,’ Nina bit her tongue before she swore. The temporary numbing effect of the wine was fast evaporating.
‘Well, I can’t see it, can I?’ Hilary pushed the papers to one side. ‘Oh – there!’ she said, holding the letter up. Nina breathed a sigh of relief and sat down at her own desk, already desperate for another glass of wine.
‘Well, it’s creased now. You’ll have to print it out again.’
Nina opened the document up on her screen. This, she vowed, would be the last order she’d take from Hilary Jackson.
‘Not yet – wait,’ Hilary said. ‘There’s probably something I need to correct first.’
Nina sighed. Just bide your time, she said to herself. See the day out first and then tell her exactly what you think of her. Goodness only knew that she needed that length of time to build her courage up.
At four o’clock, Nina left her desk to make the tea. In the relative sanctuary of the kitchen, she stretched her arms high above her head and yawned loudly. She felt exhausted – as if, quite suddenly, all the hours of tedium, frustration and anger of working with her boss had snowballed into one gigantic mass of mutiny. It was time, wasn’t it?
The kettle boiled, and Nina poured the hot water into the mugs and stirred vigorously. She put an extra-large sugar into her own mug and the usual half a teaspoon into Hilary’s.
Hilary didn’t bother looking up from her papers as Nina re-entered the office and placed her mug on her desk. She sat down again, sipping her tea and glancing at her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes.
‘For God’s sake!’ Hilary’s voice suddenly rose from behind her computer. ‘Did you put the bloody sugar in with a shovel?’ It was Hilary’s usual comment when Nina accidentally put a couple of extra grains in her tea. But Nina didn’t say anything. She was waiting. Just waiting.
Half-past five came and went and Nina’s computer remained on. Her eyes were sore from staring at its bright face all day and her cream blouse was damp with perspiration. She watched Hilary’s face as she proofread the latest copy of the same letter she’d printed out half a dozen times already that day. Hilary. Sounded a bit like horrible, didn’t it? Started with an h, same number of consonants. Horrible Hilary. Hilary the Horrible.
Nina shook her head, feeling as if she was fast sinking into insanity, her foot tapping against the desk leg as she looked at her watch, willing precious minutes of her life away before she could make her escape.
A smile curved the corner of her mouth as she recalled her friend’s voice in the pub.
‘Just clear your desk out, tell Hilary to take a hike and go.’
I will, Janey. I will, Nina said to herself.
‘Right!’ Hilary exclaimed, making Nina jump. ‘That’ll do for today.’
Nina got up from her chair before Hilary had a chance to change her mind.
‘But I’ll need you here for eight tomorrow to start work on the end-of-month reports. First, though, I’ve got a few items you need to pick up from the dry cleaners. They open at seven so you’ll be able to get them en route to the office but don’t – whatever you do – crease them like you did last time. Honestly, Nina – the state of my jacket when you brought it in! You really don’t think sometimes!’
Nina blinked in disbelief. There was no please, no asking if that was all right with Nina – it was just an order that demanded to be obeyed. And that’s when the stirring began – a strange bubbling inside her stomach. It felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. Anxiety, apprehension perhaps, urging her forward because, at last, the time had come.
‘I won’t be here at eight,’ Nina said, her voice unusually clear and calm. ‘And I won’t be here at nine either.’ As she spoke, she opened her desk drawer and took out her little pot of lip balm, before reaching to the side of her computer where a framed photo of her childhood pet dog, Bertie, had lived for the past two years.
Hilary looked at her, not quite comprehending. ‘I’m afraid it’s necessary to work extra hours in order to get the job done. And if you don’t value that—’
‘No,’ Nina said, blowing the light covering of dust from Bertie’s frame, causing Hilary to blink. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t value it because you don’t value me and so I’m leaving. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for some time now and I really don’t know why it’s taken me so long.’ Nina’s eyebrows rose as assuredly as her confidence. ‘You are rude, unreasonable and uncaring, and I’ve had enough.’ She looked at her boss briefly, noting the gaping mouth.
‘How dare you talk to me like that!’ Hilary Jackson said, her eyes narrowed into two mean slits.
‘This is something I should have done months ago,’ Nina told her, staring right back at her and, for the first time since she’d taken the job, unafraid of her boss. ‘The very day after you arrived, in fact, because you’ve made my life a complete misery. We’re meant to be work colleagues, but you treat me like your own personal slave. You never ask my opinion about anything. You bulldoze over any suggestions I dare to make or else claim them for yourself and take all the credit for them with the management team. You swear at me. You set unreasonable deadlines and expect me to do hours of overtime without any extra pay whilst you slink off to your holistic retreat! Well, it’s over, Hilary! I’m not going to be treated like this anymore!’
‘What?’ Hilary barked.
‘I believe I’m owed my notice in annual leave, which I’ve been unable to take for some time, owing to your ridiculous deadlines as well as the volume of work you’ve put my way.’ Nina swung her handbag over her shoulder and, after one last look around the room, walked slowly away from her desk.
‘Nina Elliot – you just stop and think about what—’
‘Goodbye, Hilary,’ she interrupted before opening the door. ‘And good luck finding a replacement,’ she continued, ‘because you’ll need it.’
When Nina got home, she kicked her shoes off and watched them hit the skirting boards with a satisfying thump. She’d done it; really done it this time, and not just acted out a scene in her head with a thousand witty retorts to each one of Hilary’s nasty instructions. It had felt wonderful. She’d felt free and full of all the possibilities that the future now held for her. She just had to decide what she wanted to do with it.
Chapter Three
When one door closes, somewhere a window is opened. At least, that’s how the saying went. But, Nina couldn’t help wondering the next morning if it had been wise to close a door before even knowing where to look for a window. Maybe not, but it had certainly been liberating.
Janey had sounded delighted when Nina told her.
‘Well done, you!’ she cheered down the phone. ‘Now don’t go walking into another nasty little job again. Have a break – enjoy yourself,’ she advised. That was all very well, but what was she going to enjoy herself with? Fun always seemed to come with a pretty hefty price tag. And, finding herself out of teabags as well as T-shirts, Nina thought she should at least start to look for another position.
The local recruitment agency wasn’t exactly what Nina had hoped for on the first day of her new-found freedom. The stark walls and bland office furniture looked like a ‘before’ room on a television makeover programme, and the jobs the city had to offer were just as uninspiring. Nina tutted, rolled her eyes, bit her lip and then walked back out into the sunshine. Janey was right. There was absolutely no point in summoning up the courage to jack in your job only to leap into another job that you didn’t totally love. She was worth more
than that, and this was going to be a new start for her – not just in terms of a job but in her personal life, too. She was leaving behind the old Nina with the bad boyfriend and the bad job. Who knew what the future held in store for her? All she had to do was to remain optimistic and keep smiling.
She held her face up to the early summer sunshine, rejoicing in the fact that she’d never have to face Hilary Jackson again in that tiny, airless office. She’d never forget her boss’s face as she’d said goodbye. Like Munch’s ‘The Scream’ with a touch of Lady Macbeth. It had been quite scary, and Nina began to feel sorry for the next poor soul to be taken on by her old boss. But that wasn’t her concern. She’d done her time and now she was free.
It was a bright Wednesday morning at the end of May and she didn’t have to work; the city was her oyster. She could do what she wanted – visit all the places she never had time to when she was working. She could go to an afternoon matinee at the cinema, amble up the cobbled back streets and poke around the galleries and antique shops. She could browse around the bookshops or sip a cappuccino overlooking the rainbow array of the market. It was all there for the taking.
Nina chose the market.
The scent of fresh fruit and vegetables filled her nostrils and she walked without any real direction between the stalls. Cards for every occasion, cushions, CDs, casual coats, courgettes and chips – it was all there, and Nina ambled happily amongst the shoppers, smiling at everything yet nothing in particular, losing herself in the living labyrinth.
When she finally tunnelled her way out, she had to shade her eyes against the sun and, as she did so, she noticed a small boy crying and pointing up to the sky. She followed his gaze and saw a bright red balloon drifting high above the shops towards the heavens. His mother grabbed his wrist and dragged him away.
For a few moments, Nina stood transfixed, watching the red balloon until it became nothing more than a scarlet pinprick against the sky. Best go shopping for some food, she thought. It would be a new experience to go shopping on a weekday and the very thought of it made her smile. Even the simplest task was beginning to seem like an adventure.
A Summer to Remember Page 2