Chapter 8
Eve
Tomorrow is the day.
I’ve just had a calendar invite from Dev, asking to meet in my office at 4 p.m.. It’s Sunday, so my calendar is full of life admin, like calling my parents, and it’s taking everything in me not to tell them the news before I’ve even asked how they are.
‘How are you both?’ I squint at the screen. Mum’s finger is over the camera, and I can just make out the edge of my dad’s bald head in the corner. ‘Mum, I can’t see you, move your hand.’
‘What?’ Dad bellows. ‘Can you hear what she’s saying, Carrie?’
‘Go and get the whatsits, Mike. The thingamajigs! There!’ Mum’s finger moves away from the camera and I see her gesturing wildly towards the wardrobe. ‘The things for your ears!’
‘These?’ Dad pulls out a pair of earphones.
‘Yes! Bring them over here.’
There’s a lot of muffled scratching and some tame swearing as Mum gets the earphones hooked up, and then she puts her glasses on, pulls the tiny microphone up to her mouth, and screams.
‘CAN YOU HEAR ME, EVIE?’
‘Oh my god, Mum.’ I wince. ‘You don’t need to shout.’
‘What’s she saying?’ Dad’s voice is distant.
‘Give him one of the earphones, Mum, then I can talk to you both.’
Another stressful five minutes pass as they set themselves up, and eventually, we’re having an actual conversation.
‘How is everything out there?’ I ask, noting their tan. ‘You both look very brown.’
‘Oh, it’s lovely. Just lovely, isn’t it Mike?’ Mum nudges Dad, and he nods. ‘At the beach every day, aren’t we?’
‘We are. And how’s our girlie? How’s your job?’
I swallow down the annoyance at the tone in my dad’s voice, as though he’s asking a paperboy how his Saturday rounds are going, and try to focus on the fact that they’ve remembered to ask this time.
‘It’s good.’ I can’t help myself. ‘I’m being promoted tomorrow.’
‘That’s wonderful!’ Mum beams. ‘Will you be the manager?’
‘I already am the manager.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I’ll be head of the whole marketing department.’
They nod, smiling. ‘That sounds great, love.’ Dad fiddles with his earphone.
‘It’s actually really important,’ I press. ‘You remember I work for Florina?’
‘Of course!’ Mum retorts. ‘Of course we remember that.’
Before I worked my way up at Florina, I’d managed to quickly move my way up the ladder at an agency neither of them had ever heard of. When I moved onto something more recognisable, I assumed they’d take more interest — everything in Mum’s garden back in the UK came from Florina’s flagship store in Chorley — but they just don’t seem to get it.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that I am thirty-three now, and my parents’ stance on my career choices should not affect me.
‘And will you get a little salary increase?’ Dad asks.
I grind my teeth. ‘Yes. There’ll be quite a big jump in pay.’
‘Well that’s just brilliant news, isn’t it, Mike?’ Mum nudges Dad again. ‘You’ll have to come out and visit us so we can celebrate.’
‘Sure,’ I say, with absolutely no conviction. I can’t foresee a time in the next decade when I’ll have time for a holiday to the Costa del Sol. I haven’t been away in years.
I shut up about work and listen to Dad grumble about a paella he had that tasted ‘too Spanish’ for half an hour before saying goodbye and ringing off.
I order a poké bowl on Deliveroo and then set about reorganising my kitchen cupboards, despite never using most of the stuff in there. I clean every plate and bowl, wipe down the tins and packets, and soak all of my cutlery in fairy liquid and Dettol before drying it all off and placing it back in the drawer, neatly stacked.
As I clean, I think about tomorrow. I imagine what I’ll say, who I’ll tell first. It will have to be Kirsty, because I have a surprise up my sleeve: as soon as my position is announced, I will put her forward for my old role for the next six months. I know that she knows this — why wouldn’t she? She’s my closest friend in the entire company, and she’s really good at what she does. She’d be perfect for it.
My lunch arrives, and I eat standing up, swiping through our competition’s Instagram pages as I lean against the kitchen counter. I’m making some notes on my phone — more yellow hues, yearly subscriptions, tongue-in-cheek captions — when it rings, and Jess’s face consumes my screen.
I swipe to answer and a grainy image of her and Johnny appears. ‘Hey.’
‘Hello!’ she cheers. ‘Just thought we’d drop in to say hi and see how your Sunday was going.’
I wince at this. Since when was this a we situation? Johnny is wedged in next to Jess, looking down at his phone, confirming my suspicions that he’s been forced into the video call against his will.
‘I’m good, how are you guys?’ I fork one last piece of avocado into my mouth and crumple the cardboard box into the recycling.
Jess squints at the camera. ‘Are you eating standing up again?’
‘Yes.’
She sighs and shakes her head, her dreadlocks bouncing. ‘We’re going to Bundobust tonight, aren’t we, Johnny? Apparently the fried okra is incredible. They also have this mung bean dhal, which is apparently brilliant for your metabolism, and...’
I let Jess talk about her evening plans while I wipe down the kitchen surfaces and wash my fork. Every so often, I glance at Johnny, who still hasn’t looked up from his phone.
‘And how are you, Johnny?’ I ask once I’m done, interrupting Jess’s monologue about the benefits of lentils for the digestive system.
‘I’m alright, yeah, cheers.’ Johnny still doesn’t look up from his phone.
Jess glances towards him, and I catch her eyeing his screen.
‘Is it tomorrow you get the promotion announcement?’ she asks, tearing her gaze away.
‘Yep, four o’clock.’ I smile. ‘We’ll have to celebrate this weekend.’
‘Yes, let’s!’ She nudges Johnny in the ribs. ‘Are you coming out with me and Eve this weekend?’
He looks up briefly. ‘Can Polly come?’
Jess’s jaw sets. ‘No, she cannot.’
‘Who’s Polly?’ I pry.
‘Polly is Johnny’s — I mean, our — erm...’
‘She’s my girlfriend,’ Johnny drawls.
‘Oh.’ I raise my eyebrows. Jess hasn’t put a name to her nemesis before.
‘ Our girlfriend, technically, Johnny!’ Jess squeals, her face red. ‘And she’s not coming.’
‘How can she be your girlfriend too when you won’t even be in the same room as her?’ Johnny slips his phone into his pocket now.
‘Because we’re a throuple!’ Jess exclaims, her hair taking on a life of its own now. ‘There are three of us!’
Johnny sighs. ‘We’ve been over this.’
‘I think I’ll call back later?’ I say, hovering my finger over the ‘end call’ button.
‘No, Eve, stay!’ Jess whips her head back towards the camera. ‘I just want to be able to understand how it’s fair that Johnny gets two girlfriends but I only get him.’
‘You can go and get another boyfriend if you want.’ Johnny frowns. ‘I’ve told you that.’
‘I don’t want another boyfriend!’ Jess shrieks. ‘I want you!’
Johnny shrugs again.
Jess is about to cry, I can feel it in the air. ‘I’ve got to go, Jess, I’ll call you later,’ I say quickly.
‘I can’t believe you’ve just said that, Johnny—’
I cut her off mid-sentence.
I put my phone on the side and go to empty the bin, but I freeze as a muffled squeak comes from the open back door to my left.
I tiptoe over and poke my head out, feeling the blistering heat of the sun on my face. I blink into the brightness, letting my eyes adjust. There doesn’t seem to be anything there. I lean back, intending to return inside, but then I spot it. In the shadow by the fence is a malnourished-looking tortoiseshell cat, swishing its tail and staring at me.
Our gazes lock, and I narrow my eyes. I haven’t seen this cat before; it must be one of the neighbours’. I’ve only spoken to a couple of them once or twice in the three years I’ve lived here; I’m rarely home for long enough to chat — weekends like this are a rarity I like to avoid — and when I am, I’m always busy.
The cat yawns, and I wonder whether it’s had a drink recently. The temperature is reaching thirty-three degrees now. What if it’s lost?
I nip back into the kitchen and pour some water into an old Tupperware box, before stepping back outside and leaving it on the patio. I look up to beckon the cat over, but it’s gone.
I sigh and go inside, jumping on the exercise bike and asking Alexa for a news roundup, biding my time until the big day tomorrow.