Page 3 of The Twilight Garden

‘I’m not sure it works like that,’ said Andrea quietly. ‘I don’t even have his number, and believe me, if I did, I’d give it to you. Let him face the bloody music.’

Gemma closed her eyes, feeling her head begin to spin. Then opened them again and reminded herself to breathe. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘It’s just… a bit of a shock.’ She could feel the threat of tears begin to burn behind her eyes. ‘What will you all do?’

Andrea looked at her phone to check the time. ‘Go home early and open several bottles of wine, I should think.’

There was silence for a moment as both women sat, heads bowed, hands in their laps.

Gemma nodded. ‘I expect you’ve already had a really shitty day,’ she said.

‘I’ve had better,’ agreed Andrea. She touched Gemma’s arm briefly, expelling a sigh. ‘Look, can I get you something? A glass of water, or…?’

Gemma had been looking forward to the hospitality she’d been promised – refreshments with her new team. She’d wondered if there would be pastries or cake… She’d got a lemon drizzle in her bag, for goodness’ sake. Baked it herself, and that was a rarity. One of the first things she’d learned early on in her career – always bring the team a treat on your first day… She fished it from her bag.

‘Would you like this?’ she asked. ‘It’s not much, and I thought my new team might like it, but now I’m only sorry it isn’t bigger. It sounds as if there might be quite a few people here who could do with something sweet.’ She studied Andrea’s face. ‘Will you be okay?’ Andrea looked as if she might be about to cry.

The young woman gave a minute nod, staring at the package in her hands. ‘That’s very kind…’

Gemma got to her feet, willing herself not to wobble. ‘I hope things work out okay. I’m sure they will.’

Andrea didn’t reply, just gave her a sad smile. Gemma wasn’t sure which of them was in the worse position. She swallowed, tucked her hair back behind her ears and walked, as tall as she could, towards the door.

2

It was one thing to try to hold her head high as she left her would-be place of employment, but quite another to endure the train journey home pretending all was well in her world. Sitting there with a serene smile on her face so that everyone would look at her and think she was simply another smartly dressed businesswoman – the sort with a leather laptop case and a bento box containing her lunch. The moment Gemma reached her car, however, the dam holding back her emotions reached breaking point, and it was only the fear of driving her car into a tree which kept the tears at bay. ‘Tears’ made it sound like they were a gentle trickle rolling poignantly down her cheeks, when what actually happened the moment she entered the safety of her house was more akin to the Pacific Ocean trying to exit a kitchen tap all in one go. Near-hysterical crying and a torrent of snot.

Everything felt like loss, you see. Everything. This job, the new flat… They were the only things which had kept her from dwelling on the losses already suffered, the only things which had offered some respite and a tentative path into the future, but now she had lost them too. All gone. All her plans, all her hopes, even the odd dream, and she had no idea where that left her. The worst part of it, and what hit her the hardest, was that deep down she knew these things were only a facade. Delusions she’d been clinging to in the belief that they would provide a way out of the bleakness of the past few months, and up into the light she craved.

She’d told herself the move would be just what she needed, when the reality of it was that she couldn’t bear to leave her house. Her memories were woven through the very fabric of the building, and for the last year or so those memories had become entwined with those of her mother. Her tears which had fallen like summer squalls against the windows; her fears which had skulked along the crevices between the walls and the floor, lingering like smoke. But it had also been her laughter which had chased away the fog on good days and flooded the house with sunlight.

Gemma had told herself that the new flat would be somewhere she could root herself, planting furniture and belongings like the seeds of a new beginning. Except that it wouldn’t be, of course; it was a pretence, a desperate attempt at making herself feel better. Just like the new job had been. She thought things would be easier if she had new colleagues and new friends, ones who wouldn’t know her recent past and wouldn’t ask the kinds of questions she didn’t want to answer. What she truly needed though, was the exact opposite – people with whom she didn’t need to pretend. People who understood. People like Cat. So when Gemma had cried herself out and dusted herself down, when she had quelled her mounting fear, and eaten half the bar of chocolate she had bought at the station without even tasting it, it was Cat she called first.

The second person she called was her old boss. She and Abby had always got on well, and that had really showed in how good Abby had been to her while her mother was ill. And while she hadn’t exactly voiced her disappointment at Gemma’s desire to move on from Mayfield Dawson, Gemma could tell it was there. Admitting to today’s humiliation wasn’t something she would find easy but, as the old adage went, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and while she wasn’t that desperate yet, Gemma was done with fooling herself. She had no job, and after next week would have nowhere to live either. It was time to swallow her pride. She perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, smoothing both hands down her skirt in trepidation as she eyed her mobile phone, and then she snatched it up before her nerves got the better of her.

‘Gemma, hi… how are you?’ Abby sounded as if she was in the middle of something, but then she usually was. Probably typing an email. She was good at multitasking.

‘Not too bad, Abby, thanks. Is everything good with you?’

‘Oh… You know how it is.’ There was an amused release of breath. ‘Hectic as ever.’

Gemma took the hint. Besides, this wasn’t a social call.

‘Good… I mean, not good that it’s hectic, just good that you’re busy, that the agency’s still busy.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I was just wondering how things are going because I had a bit of a disappointment today and, well, things didn’t turn out as I’d hoped with the new job so⁠—’

‘I know! We all heard about it… Blimey, you wouldn’t think somewhere like Leonards would go under, there but for the grace of God, but then it’s been a while coming, and once those rumours start, it’s very hard to quash them. And you know what they say – no smoke without fire.’

Gemma blinked. ‘You knew?’

‘What? About Leonards? No, not exactly… Just gossip, really, like I said.’

‘But you knew my new job was with them. Why didn’t you say anything when I told you?’

‘I just figured the rumours must have been exaggerated. Or that perhaps there was a job for you with Neil, with his new agency.’

‘No, the job was with Leonards, not him.’

‘Shit… Gemma, I’m sorry, but I thought you… Did you really not know?’

‘No, how could I have?’