Chapter One
Kat’s To-Do List
Milk
Bread
Cheese
Lunch? NO MORE PRET
Stop thinking about funeral
Stop thinking about Dad’s stupid house
Client rebrand prep
Therapist???
‘Kat!’ Willa’s melodic shout bounced off the stark white office walls, giving my co-workers Clara and Kieran – a.k.a. the twins from The Shining – a rare opportunity to look up from their laptops.
As graphic designers, staring at screens was what we did best but Clara and Kieran were robots.
They hadn’t looked up from their screens since nine this morning.
Meanwhile, I’d got up three times to make myself a coffee.
Twice, I was distracted by a notification on my phone and then I wound up reorganising the stationery cupboard.
I’d finally made the coffee, for it to go cold beside me anyway.
Willa, my boss and best friend, came hurtling around the corner to where I hid in my little booth.
Willa was wearing a nude structured dress, blonde hair styled in immaculate waves.
Willa stepped into my booth I’d picked four years ago.
I figured if I was having a bad ADHD day, I could hide my hyperfixation in my little booth.
Last month, it was the Russian royal family and the conspiracy theory that one of them survived their downfall.
My cubbyhole meant the office could be spared from my Wikipedia rabbit holes.
I was praying Willa hadn’t cottoned onto my most recent hyperfixation.
Willa threatened to freeze me with her icy-blue eyes.
The two of us met at university when we were studying graphic design.
Willa had always planned to start her own agency.
She’d even told me that first semester that it was the plan, making me feel sufficiently inadequate, given I didn’t know what I was having for dinner.
But that was Willa – a force of nature. We were the same age, but I always looked up to her like she was my big sister, something that an only child like me could only dream of having.
‘Willa, I can explain –’ But I stopped myself.
Last week, I forgot to send a client brief. The week before that, I’d called in sick because I’d felt so heavy and tearful that I couldn’t get out of bed without bursting into tears. Then, of course, there was a general state of tardiness that followed me around like a bad fart.
I am such a fuck up.
Since the funeral, I had been a liability across every single aspect of my life, and I wanted to fix it. I desperately wanted to fix it but couldn’t pull myself out of the ditch.
‘Did you hand our biggest client a business card with your used gum on it?’
Clara and Kieran exchanged looks.
I winced, ‘Ah – yes.’ A strangled noise came from Willa. ‘But Alan seemed to find it pretty funny.’
Alan had been perplexed when I’d wiped off the piece of gum and handed the card back to him. I would have handed him a new one, but I’d forgotten to order more. What else was I supposed to do? Dinosaurs like Alan didn’t know how to AirDrop. I wasn’t even sure if Alan had a phone.
‘They just called me.’
‘Oh.’
‘They want you off the account.’
My mouth fell open. ‘No. Alan was fine! He laughed. I’m sure he laughed.’
Willa groaned. ‘Kat, that was your last chance to impress them. They have itchy feet! They’re one foot out of the door. Especially after you went on that call with a penis straw!’
‘They were left over from Sam’s hen do!’ I exclaimed. Sam was our mutual friend from University. ‘What was I supposed to do? Throw them away?’
‘That would have been better than using them on a call with a load of strait-laced white blokes, Kat, yes.’
I winced. ‘I’m sorry.’
Willa sighed. ‘I know.’
Willa deserved better than this. Before Dad died, I hadn’t been a perfect employee, but I got the job done.
I thought once the grief had subsided, things would go back to normal.
But it had been eight months since his funeral, and nothing had changed.
Autumn, my favourite season, came and went.
So did the red and gold lights of Christmas and New Year.
I walked through them, numb and disinterested.
It was February and I was still going through the motions each day. Every night, I lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
Willa should have someone focused on client work, someone present, someone who coaxed clients back, not gave them the ick.
After all, Willa had her own problems. Clients were fleeing Horizon Creative by the day and Willa was more and more desperate by the day.
She even asked me to write client pitches, which was not my forte. My spelling was atrocious.
Willa ran a hand down her face, paused and then turned to Kieran. ‘Kier. You’re on the QRS account.’
Kieran flinched but nodded – the ever-loyal robot lapdog.
‘Kat, let’s talk,’ Willa angled her head towards her office.
I walked past Clara and Kieran, looking down at their laptops like nothing had happened.
Freaks.
I followed Willa to her office; my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to her round bum. I was no better than a man.
‘Your arse looks insane in that dress, Wills.’ This was not appropriate for work, but given we were old uni friends, I figured we were well past the usual employee-employer relationship.
‘No sweet talking,’ Willa added over her shoulder, ‘but thank you.’
Willa was in her ‘slay your enemies’ look today, which had been getting more action than usual recently.
I wondered if it had something to do with Aidan, the sales director of Dunamis.
Willa insisted there was nothing but hatred between her and Aidan, the son of her dad’s best friend, but I wasn’t convinced.
There was always a weird energy about them.
Sometimes, I spotted them marching out of the lifts, bickering, only to part in a huff to their separate offices.
Then, I would see Aidan staring at Willa as the two of us trotted through the foyer for after-work drinks, not a hint of hatred on his bespectacled face – instead, a sad sort of longing. I asked Willa about their strange energy because I liked my head on my shoulders.
‘Right,’ Willa announced, settling into her pink velvet office chair.
Was she going to fire me? Oh my god. Was I about to be fired by my best friend? Because that would be a new low.
I blew a curly strand of hair from my face. ‘Willa. Please. I swear I’ll put together some extra client pitches. I’ll do sales pitches for you in person if you want. I will pull myself together.’
‘Relax, Kat. It’s nothing bad. Sit down a sec.’
I lowered myself into one of the two chairs opposite her huge desk, which was organised with pastel highlighters and Post-its – the complete opposite of mine, which was littered with wrappers and bits of paper with gum squished in.
Willa’s office was painted a muted plaster pink.
It was subtly girly – the kind of pink that wouldn’t put off her dad, who might question if she would be taken seriously with Barbie-pink office walls.
Willa flicked her wrist. ‘Okay. Explain.’
‘Explain?’
‘The house listing. Every time I look at you, you’re staring at it. In the office. When we go get lunch. Even when we’re at Elias’s, and I know you usually like to stare at Elias.’
‘I think you mean you like looking at Elias.’
‘Don’t change the subject.’
Elias’s was the Italian bar and restaurant opposite the office.
Willa and I went every Friday for after-work drinks, sat at the bar and ordered Campari sodas.
It helped that Elias, the owner, looked like a tanned Greek god.
Unfortunately, he was very gay but declared that he adored us anyway. And the feeling was mutual.
I took a deep breath. ‘My dad left me this house. It’s his childhood home. It meant a lot to him. At least, I think it did. You know we weren’t… close. For years.’
‘Right.’
‘Well, he has left it to me. It took a while for probate to go through, but the solicitor called me last week and confirmed it. It’s mine.
And I had no idea he’d even bought it. I think it was going to be his next project.
I was going to sell it and try to buy a flat here.
But I could only afford somewhere between here and Reading nearer Mum and Graham. ’
‘Womp womp.’
‘Well, exactly. I’d prefer somewhere a bit closer to work…’
Willa’s nose wrinkled. ‘And somewhere fun.’
‘Hey! Reading isn’t so bad.’ Willa raised an eyebrow.
‘But, yeah. I’d prefer somewhere in London, but it’s so fucking expensive, Wills.
And I spoke to the estate agent in Everly Heath, and they said if I do some work on the house, it will go for loads more.
’ I waved a hand. ‘Something about it being great for new families. Especially with the size of the garden.’ My voice picked up speed.
‘So I thought I could renovate it. I’ve always loved the idea of a fixer-upper and this is probably my only opportunity. ’
I left out that I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. I left out that sometimes I wondered if I’d ever get over it – get over Dad’s death and the mess I’d made at the funeral. I left out that I thought it might give me some closure, some peace.
‘Okay.’ Willa looked away, nodding. ‘I’m giving you extended compassionate leave. I can’t afford to pay you for it, but your job will be here when you get back.’
‘What?’ The blood drained from my face. ‘No, no, it’s fine. I don’t need it. It’s a stupid idea. I can’t just uproot my life.’
Willa rose and sat in the chair next to me. She grabbed my hands – a rare moment of physical touch from Willa.
‘You know I love you.’
I tried to pull my hands back. ‘Stop being mushy. It’s freaking me out.’
‘Shut up.’ She squeezed my hands. ‘You need to hear this. Since the funeral, you’ve been crap.
I know that sounds harsh, but you have. I wanted to give you time to process and grieve, but it’s been months, and you aren’t yourself.
And I know grief doesn’t go away, not completely.
But it does get better. Slowly. But in the last few weeks…
’ Willa paused. ‘You’re coming into work more and more pale.
You look drained. You aren’t the usual you. ’
I opened my mouth to object, but nothing came out.
‘I wouldn’t expect you to be fine. But I also wouldn’t expect you to be getting worse. I can see you ignoring it and trying to push on. You need time off. Especially after what happened at the funeral –’
Embarrassment flashed hot, ‘I’m fine. I’ll pull myself together. I know you need all hands on deck –’
‘Renovate the bloody house, will you?’ Willa snapped, pointed at me.
‘I’ve seen your Pinterest boards. They aren’t listed as private, you know.
I know what you’re like when you have an itch to scratch, especially when it’s something creative.
That’s why we need you here. Clients love it.
So do the bloody thing and come back. I’ll give you two months.
Then I need you back and focused. We’re planning to pitch to some big clients, and I need everyone with their heads in the game, okay? ’
Willa patted my hand and panic pressed down in my chest. I stood up, as Willa sat back down into her office chair.
‘This is unnecessary. I don’t even want to go. It rains constantly. It’s not like I’ve any friends up there. I barely know my family. It’s ridiculous. And Mum would spit feathers –’
‘I’ll say this as gently as possible because it’s what you need to hear. And because we have no HR. Stop listening to your mum. You are strong and capable, but the more you listen to your mum –’ Willa exhaled. ‘Look, I like Paula. Mainly because she likes me.’
Mum approved of Willa almost immediately when she saw how accomplished she was. A business owner and so young! Mum had gushed.
Willa pointed a manicured finger. ‘You don’t take risks when you listen to her. You get scared. Go and do the damn thing.’
Willa made it sound so simple, but she was right about one thing.
I didn’t take risks like this. Mum hadn’t needed my diagnosis to train my impulsivity out of me.
If I were a boy, my ADHD would probably have been endearing.
I would have run around. I would have fidgeted a lot.
I would have been disruptive in class, maybe – an endearing nuisance.
But as a girl, it wasn’t so cute.
As a girl, it was repetitive thinking, daydreaming and anxiety. It was all in my head. It was constantly forgetting things and letting people down, especially as I was diagnosed late and had been forced to mask my symptoms.
‘It’s not that simple,’ I said uselessly.
‘It is now. ’Cos you’re fired.’ Willa smiled like she was giving me a gift. ‘I’ve seen your plans. You have an eye for this stuff, Kat. Trust yourself.’