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“What will Dad think—”
“He won’t even notice.”
Harriet let out a huff of laughter. “Probably not, if we clean all this up.” She nodded towards the floor.
“We will,” Rachel replied, “but first let’s get the rest of it off.”
It took them another hour, but they managed to strip most of the wallpaper from the entire hallway. By the time they were finished, they were aching with tiredness and caked in dust and dried paste; Rachel could feel it, gritty on her scalp, her eyeballs. She desperately needed a bath, and she felt as if she’d gone a bit crazy, but she was glad, fiercely so, that they’d done it. It felt like a step, a big one, necessary and important.
“Right,” Harriet said as they bundled the old wallpaper into bin bags and took it all outside. “Time for that cuppa.”
Rachel washed her hands at the kitchen sink while Harriet boiled up another brew. She was just handing Rachel her mug when her phone, forgotten in her pocket, pinged with a text. Hoping it was from Ben, Rachel slid her phone out of her pocket, everything in her jolting in surprise when she saw it wasn’t from Ben at all. It was from Danielle.
Call me. ASAP.
“Rach?” Harriet asked uncertainly, and Rachel realised she was frowning, somewhat ferociously.
“Just a work thing,” she told her sister as she slid her phone back into her pocket. She hadn’t heard from Danielle in days, and now she was texting her urgently? It didn’t bode well—Rachel knew that much—but she also knew she didn’t want to think about it right now. She didn’t want to be distracted by work from the business of living.
“Should we check on Dad?” she asked Harriet.
“I’ll bring him up a cuppa. He might be asleep, but…”
“Yes, you do that.”
Rachel waited while her sister made their dad a cup of tea just as he liked it, and then took it upstairs. Knowing she couldn’t put it off even though she longed to, Rachel swiped her phone and pressed for Danielle’s number. It rang only once before her boss answered.
“Rachel?”
“Yes—”
“You need to come back to London. Immediately. That is, if you want your job. If you don’t, by all means, stay where you are.”
“What…” Rachel shook her head, even though of course Danielle couldn’t see her. “Why—”
“There’s been a shake-up. Shakedown. Whatever.” Danielle blew out a breath. “The higher-ups are getting antsy about the markets, and there’s going to be a shedload of redundancies coming. I’ve already resigned, as it happens. Decided I’d had enough, after all. I’m retiring early, might do something crazy like start a pottery studio or move to Spain.”
What on earth?“Danielle, what—”
“I’ve recommended you for my position,” her boss continued briskly, “if you want it. I don’t know that you do, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging, with nothing to come back to. The trouble is, as you haven’t been around for a month, that suggestion was taken with several grains of salt, to put it mildly.”
It hadn’t been quite a month, but Rachel wasn’t about to argue the point. “I…I can’t come back just now,” she said helplessly. “My dad was just diagnosed with a brain tumourtoday. He has three months to live.”
“I’m sorry,” Danielle said after a pause. “I really am. And maybe that will affect your decision—hell, if it were me, it would. At least, itshould. But I have to tell you, that’s not going to hold water at the moment with those in authority. They want boots on the ground, Rachel, faces around the table.” She sighed. “I suppose this is what I was talking about before. The people we could have become. If you need to stay, stay, by all means. I really do mean that. But realise that unfortunately, in this case, it will probably cost you your job, and certainly any promotion.” Her voice gentled. “I’ve made my decision, and only you can make yours. But you need to decide today—if you want to keep your job, you need to be at your desk by tomorrow morning.”
As she ended the call, Rachel stared into space, her mind spinning. She could hardly believe things had happened so suddenly, so drastically, and yet part of her wasn’t even surprised. The business world was brutal. Little things like brain tumours didn’t factor into decision making at all.
And yet…how on earth could she leave?
How could she not?
Rachel slumped against the counter, closing her eyes. She’d worked at Wakeman and Wallace for nearly ten years, her entire working life. She’d pouredeverythinginto her job—all her time, effort, ambition,hope. She’d sacrificed holidays, hobbies, relationships, all to get ahead. And she might lose it all now, simply because a few nameless, faceless higher-ups needed to see her at her desk, looking busy and productive?Thatwas how it worked?
As a matter of fact, yes, it was. She’d always known that. She’d always been willing to pay the price…until now.
“Rachel?” Rachel opened her eyes to see Harriet standing in the kitchen doorway, gazing at her uncertainly. “Are you okay?”
She knew she couldn’t go into the whole job thing now, the worst possible moment to say she might have to leave for a little while, just to secure her future. How long would she have to be gone? A couple of days? Weeks? Time that was precious, more precious than she could ever have imagined. Did she really want to spend it in London, preserving a job she wasn’t even sure she cared about anymore? And yet her job had been herlife. If she left it, what was she saying about the choices she’d made over the last ten years? And what was she saying about the choices she was makingnow, when everything still felt fragile, especially between her and Ben? “Yes,” she said, trying to smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, you know.”
