Page 6 of Somewhere Only We Know

Kevin loomed over me, his fist clenched. ‘You mad bitch.’

‘Mad? Mad?’ I spat at him. ‘Damn right I am, I’m bloody furious. It’s people like you—’

Anna gripped my shoulder. ‘Go home, Maggie, I’ll deal with this.’

‘She’s going nowhere,’ Kevin blustered. ‘I’m calling the police.’

Anna nudged me in the direction of my car. ‘Please, it’s for your own good. I’ll sort this out.’

I ignored my boss, not taking my eyes off Kevin for one second.

‘Be my guest.’ My body was taut with tension. ‘I dare you. One whiff of your breath and they’ll be very keen to know about your intention to drive.’

‘And this.’ Kevin jabbed a finger at me, spittle gathering in the corners of his mouth. ‘Is why I hate doing business with women.’

‘Why, because we can outsmart you?’ I needled.

It was unprofessional of me, but I didn’t care. I felt untethered, wild and ready for a fight.

‘Go now, Maggie,’ Anna ordered, her voice dangerously low. ‘I’ll see you in my office tomorrow. Nine a.m.’

The look on Anna’s face: pity, disappointment, revulsion sent a wave of nausea from my stomach to my throat.

‘I’m going.’ I turned, my legs shaky with nerves as I walked to my car. I climbed in, lowered my head to the steering wheel and waited for the beat of my heart to slow before setting off.

Oh Magnolia Jones, what have you done?

Chapter 2

The next morning, I got to the staff car park at seven-thirty and waited in my car for Anna to arrive. I planned to intercept her before she reached the office. Whatever she had to say, I’d rather no one overheard, especially Lee – not that he ever turned up before nine. By the time her car pulled in, half an hour later, I was cold and my muscles stiff, but I rushed to greet her.

‘Anna! Hi!’

‘Jesus, Maggie.’ Anna clutched her chest as she climbed out. ‘You scared the life out of me.’

‘Sorry, sorry, it’s … well, you know what it is.’ I rubbed my arms to get some life back into them. ‘I’ve been on tenterhooks since yesterday. And when you didn’t answer my call—’

Anna shut the driver’s door and walked to the passenger side to retrieve her laptop bag. ‘Or your emails, or your WhatsApps or texts, or the voice note you sent me four hours ago which woke me up.’ I winced; not getting enough sleep was her main topic of conversation after the diet of her six-year-old and her husband’s inability to stack the dishwasher. ‘Because I said I’d see you at nine.’

‘You did, I’m sorry.’ I registered that Anna wasn’t making eye contact. Not a good sign. ‘I needed to know what happened after I left. And what’s going to happen to the contract.’ I swallowed hard. ‘And to me.’

Anna looked at me properly. ‘You look like shit.’

No surprise there. I hadn’t even bothered going to bed. The idea of lying in the dark staring at the ceiling and dwelling on my increasingly pointless future had been too depressing. Instead, I’d brought my duvet to the sofa, made a plate of toast and watched every single video I possessed of Brontë and cried and laughed and cried some more until my tears ran dry.

‘I know. A lump of very repentant shit.’

She cracked a smile. ‘Come on, get in my car. We’ll go to the drive-through and get coffees.’

I was desperately in need of a caffeine hit, but I glanced over my shoulder at the office. ‘Shouldn’t we …?’

It was past eight o’ clock. I hadn’t arrived at work this late since Brontë had left home and gone to university. That first hour of the morning when the corridors were quiet and nobody bothered me was my most productive. Now I’d be behind for the entire day. Assuming, that was, I still had a job.

‘No we should not.’ Anna jerked her head at the car. ‘In. We can talk on the way.’

I did as I was told, scenario after disastrous scenario playing out in my head as she got in.

I must be getting fired, why else wouldn’t she even want me in the building? Did she think I was dangerous? Or was this her way of sparing me the humiliation of being dismissed in her office with other employees within earshot? Or perhaps she thought it would be easier to have this conversation while she was driving so that she didn’t have to look me in the eye while she cut me adrift from my job – my only remaining lifeline, the frame around which I shaped my existence.