For Once In My Life

Chapter 27

The following morning, Mary Rose brought in treats for their brainstorming meeting. ‘Flapjacks,’ she said. ‘They’re the only thing I can make because I made them once in Girl Guides as a baking badge and I’ve never evolved any further.’

Even Alex stood up to take one, nibbling at the edge of it, like a hamster. ‘Not bad,’ she said, ‘although I shouldn’t. Flapjacks are deceptive. They lure you in with their innocently healthy demeanour and then deliver enough calories to keep you going through a particularly cold winter.’

‘Calorie-free,’ said Hughie, who was already on his third. ‘That’s what I like about working in offices, all the free food. I have to keep my strength up,’ he went on, ‘or I’ll fade away.’

‘When Sylvester and Sandra first told me that they were running off together, I couldn’t eat anything but flapjacks. They are most soothing.’

‘Next time you meet someone,’ said Hughie. ‘Make sure he deserves you.’ He paused. ‘And he’s not called Sylvester. I knew a Tarquin once.’ He shuddered. ‘Lived up to his name.’ Hughie turned to Kitty. ‘You too, Kitty. This Dave sounds like a right tool. God… why do the best women give the time of day to the worst men? What about you, Alex? I hope you have someone who deserves you?’

Alex shook her head. ‘I don’t… but I’m not one of the best of women…’

‘Ah, will you stop,’ said Mary Rose. ‘We’re all great. Hughie’s right. We all deserve better than Sylvester. And Dave and John-Paul… we all deserve so much better. Maybe one day, we’ll start to realise it.’

‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ said Hughie.

‘Now, where are we at with the Welcome Ireland campaign?’ asked Mary Rose, looking hopeful. ‘Kitty, Alex? Updates?’

‘I have finished my copy for the camper-van story,’ said Kitty. ‘It’s okay. Needs some work. I can’t help thinking that it feels a little cliché…’

She looked over at Alex, waiting for her to speak.

Alex held up her hands in a kind of surrender. ‘Don’t look at me,’ she said. ‘I know I am chief whatever copywriter thing. I just… I just…’ She faltered and stopped. ‘To be honest, I have feck all. It’s like my brain is empty. Nothing is coming…’ She looked almost tearful. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I have some kind of creative block. It’s horrible. Ideas used to come to me so easily. And now there’s nothing in there.’ Her voice cracked, but she kept her body tightly packed, her arms crossed at her chest, her shoulders clenched, as though protecting herself from attack, and then she picked up her another flapjack and crammed it into her mouth.

‘You need a retreat,’ said Hughie. ‘Worked for my pal Anthony. He’s a writer. Got the old block. Went to this camping retreat in Connemara, slept under the stars, and woke up with a sheep’s behind in his face, his sleeping bag drenched from what was hopefully merely rain… but, crucially, he had an idea for a short story about a man who runs away from the rat race and then gets savaged by some terrifying scraggly ruminant. He won the Hennessy the following year.’

‘Thanks for the suggestion, Hughie,’ said Alex. ‘But I’m allergic to the outdoors.’

‘Just a suggestion,’ said Hughie, laughing. ‘Trying to be useful, that’s all. Some people don’t like to be helped. They are allergic to that as well.’

‘Burnout,’ said Mary Rose. ‘It happens to us all. Usually after a period of overwork or trauma. I’ve been through it myself. But Hughie isn’t wrong. His cure might not suit everyone or indeed anyone, but time off or time away is always a good idea…’

Alex had begun to cry. ‘Don’t be nice to me,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t be nice to me if you knew what was going on. Just don’t…’

But Mary Rose had her arm around her, shushing and hushing.

‘I’m going to lose us the Welcome Ireland pitch,’ Alex sobbed. ‘Which will probably mean you won’t get your probation and you’ll have to leave Mulligan O’Leary. And anyway, I am going to have to leave… but I can’t think of a thing…’

‘You need to go home and rest,’ said Mary Rose. ‘Take a break. Nice bath. Watch some inconsequential telly. That daytime show with Cat Jones… she’s lovely. Fashion, food and all that.’ She smiled at Alex. ‘And don’t worry about my probation. Life, I’ve discovered, is rarely what you plan. I expect the unexpected these days. You just mind yourself. Okay?’

Alex shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll be grand. I’ll just go and get some fresh air and I’ll be right back.’

Mary Rose, Kitty and Hughie all looked at each other in surprise. Since when did Alex become so emotional? What on earth was triggering it all?