‘Why?’ he asks. ‘I’m great with kids. Alfie and I hang out all the time.’
She crunches into her wonton and shrugs. ‘I dunno. You just don’t give off that vibe. Nick does. I can see him running around the park with six kids. You, I picture owning the park.’
‘Six kids?’ I start to laugh. ‘Do I look like a Mormon?’
‘Moron, maybe,’ Matt says under his breath.
I smile. It’s true that I’d like a big family, probably because I come from such a small one, but maybe just three kids. Six is bankruptcy waiting to happen.
‘Greta will be next anyway,’ she informs us, ‘judging by the amount of shagging she did on honeymoon. She’s coming down to see the house next month.’
Noel almost chokes again.
‘Yeah, that’s not something she shares with her male friends,’ Matt declares, ‘but you’re probably right. How the hell did this happen? We’re adults. I remember when we got pissed every night and barely made our 11am uni lectures.’
With the smaller bedroom currently being made into a nursery, Matt takes the bed in the other spare room while Noel makes up the sofa for me in the living room. I could have shared with Matt, but fuck sleeping next to him after a few glasses of wine. His snoring can be heard from space.
While it’s been lovely catching up with Harriet, it’s given me a much-needed kick up the arse. My life will pass me by if I don’t start living it. . .properlyliving it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Nick, where the fuck is the brief? How long does it take to prepare one fucking brief? I’m surrounded by fucking idiots, I swear. Is that the paperwork for the merger? I need that finished before you leave too. The client is coming in first thing tomorrow.’
‘Sure, Sophia,’ I reply, glancing down at the clock on my PC, ‘but I really need to be out of here by half six at the latest. It’s my friend’s—’
‘Leave them on my desk before you go or don’t bother coming back tomorrow.’
Sophia Goddard, the only woman alive who makes me genuinely miss having Geraldine as my boss, proceeds to dump her half-empty coffee cup on my desk and walk away, shouting at her phone to callAlan. I have no idea who Alan is, but I guarantee he hates her too. Where Geraldine was a stone-faced, unwavering guardian of all things customer service, Sophia is a cold, detached shark of a woman who demands nothing less than everything, and sometimes even that isn’t good enough. Last week she asked me to rework a thirty-page proposal over the weekend and then promptly binned it in front of me because she’d decided to go with the original after all. I’m only halfway through the six-month maternity cover and I cannot wait for it to be over.
I turn my attention back to my paperwork, now aware that I have only two hours to batter through before I’m due to meet Matt, Sarah and Alfie for dinner. It’s Sarah’s birthday and I’ve been looking forward to this all week.
At six forty-five, I’m finally finished and place three folders on Sophia’s desk on my way out. She went home ages ago, but there are at least five members of her team still working, their desks scattered with papers and half-eaten sandwiches. I say goodnight and catch a black cab outside.
When I arrive twenty minutes late to the Thai Palace, I quickly spot Alfie, who has his face pressed against the huge fish tank in the corner of the room. Behind him to the left sits Matt, looking at his menu, while Sarah has her eyes firmly fixed on her son. Alfie notices me first.
‘Are you choosing a fish to eat for dinner?’ I ask him and he throws his arms around my waist. He chuckles.
‘You can’t eat those fish; those fishes are pets.’
‘Hmm, I dunno, that white one looks quite meaty.’
‘Finally!’ Matt exclaims. ‘I’ve just texted you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, kissing Sarah on the cheek before pulling out a chair. God, she smells nice. ‘I got away as soon as I could. Happy Birthday!’
I hand her a birthday card with a picture of a cougar wearing a tiara and she laughs, proudly standing it upright on the table.
‘Aw, thank you, and don’t worry,’ Sarah insists, ‘I’m just glad you’re here! Feels like we haven’t seen you in ages.’
I place my suit jacket on the back of the chair and pour some water. ‘I know. Work has been so hectic; it’s kicking my ass and my boss. . . well. . .’ I make a weird growling noise to express my loathing.
She frowns. ‘That good, huh?’
I shake my head. ‘Worse. ThinkJawswith bleached veneers and a spray tan. Honestly, it’s relentless. I mean, at least when I was at Kensington Fox, I used to love what I did, even if it was hard work, but this new job is miserable – I’m starting to think that I was genuinely happier passing out gifts to snot-nosed children.’
‘Yes, maybe, but you were definitely poorer,’ Matt reminds me.
‘True. . . but right now all I’m doing is ensuring rich twats stay rich despite breaking several laws, and some of the mergers and acquisitions I’m doing are seriously dodgy. When I got into law, I wanted to make a difference. Yes, naïve, I know, but it’s true. The work I’m doing right now doesn’t make any difference, at least not one that matters – in fact, no, scrap that, it probably makes the world worse. Either way, it’s completely soulless.’
