Chapter 14
Eve
‘Manifestation, Eve.’ Jess is sprawled across my living room floor, a pile of books scattered around her. ‘It’s been scientifically proven to work.’
I pull two yogurts from the fridge and toss one to her, peeling the lid off my own and eating it while leaning against the arm of the sofa. ‘So you’re telling me that science says you can just wish for something and it’ll happen?’
‘Not wish, Eve. Wishing is for children and Christmas. Manifest. ’ She tips her yogurt up and drinks it instead of asking for a spoon. ‘You will the universe to give you what you want and it listens.’
‘. . . a wish, then.’
Jess sighs. ‘No. Come here and sit down and I’ll show you.’
‘I need to do my meal prepping for the week.’
‘Eve!’ Jess gives me her sternest look. ‘Sit down. Now.’
‘Can I at least make a coffee first?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘Fine.’
I take my time, prolonging the inevitable, and then dump myself on a cushion in front of her, popping our mugs on coasters on the floor.
‘Right, take this piece of paper,’ she rips a sheet from her notepad and thrusts it into my hand, ‘and write down everything you want.’
Jess flicks through books while I write, occasionally scribbling something in one of the margins. After ten minutes have passed, she slams her copy of Chakras for the Soul closed and turns to me. ‘OK, read them out to me.’
‘Isn’t it supposed to be private?’
‘I’m a spiritual teacher, you’re allowed to tell me,’ she says seriously.
‘OK. Number one, get the job.’
‘Good.’ She nods. ‘Keep going.’
‘That’s it.’
‘What do you mean that’s it ?’ She snatches the paper from my hand. ‘Eve! There must be other things you want.’
I think for a second, and then shake my head. ‘Don’t think so.’
‘What about a man? Kids?’
I roll my eyes. ‘Can I manifest for stuff not to happen?’
She screws the paper into a ball. ‘I thought your Tryst date on Thursday went well?’
‘It did!’ I say, brightening a little. ‘He was completely emotionally unavailable.’
‘Oh my god.’ She groans and looks at the ceiling. ‘Fine, just the job. Have you figured things out with Kirsty?’
‘We’re being professional, but she’s staying out of my way.’
‘So you’re just going to keep going as normal and hope for the best?’
I consider my answer. There’s been a ball of rage in my stomach since my meeting with Dev last Wednesday, and try as I might, I can’t seem to put it to bed. But Kirsty is one of my best friends. We should talk about this. But how can we, when she’s betrayed me like this? ‘Maybe.’
‘Oh, Eve, don’t. I liked Kirsty.’
‘Yeah, so did I.’
Jess lies back on a cushion and I get to my feet, stepping over a book about botanicals and walking back over to the kitchen area of the open-plan living space. I pull some salmon out of the fridge and begin chopping vegetables, loading them into a tray and turning on the oven.
‘Since when do you do weekly meal prepping?’ Jess calls over.
‘Since it became better for the environment,’ I lie. Really, it’s because I can’t sit still, and because there’s a small part of me that worries this promotion and the increased income might be snatched away from me. Living on Deliveroo and meal deals isn’t financially sensible.
‘Oh!’ Jess props herself up onto her elbows. ‘Guess who I ran into the other day.’
‘Go on?’
‘Jamie Fishwick.’ She snorts.
‘The guy from that druggie weekend you went on?’ I carve into a red pepper and chop it into chunks.
‘It wasn’t a druggie weekend, Eve! It was ayahuasca.’
‘The drug?’
She flips her dreadlocks over her shoulder. ‘Well, yes, technically, but... anyway, never mind.’
‘Didn’t you fall in love with Jamie Fishwick within three hours and then ditch him after you went through his phone?’ I ask.
‘It was love at first sight.’ She nods. ‘We had one beautiful night together before I found out he was a journalist.’
‘Oh yeah. He was doing an article and trying to use photos of you when you were off your tits, wasn’t he?’
‘He was using me as a case study ,’ she corrects me. ‘Lying bastard.’
Something nudges at the back of my mind. An idea.
‘Didn’t you edit his article?’ I ask casually.
‘Yeah!’ She laughs. ‘I changed the story a bit, and put the word ‘cock’ somewhere in the middle where he wouldn’t notice.’
I start laughing too. ‘God, yeah, I remember.’
The idea is taking shape now, and Jess’s voice fades into the background. I cut a butternut squash into pieces, toss it in the tray and drizzle over some olive oil. I add salt, pepper and thyme, like the recipe says, and then put the tray in the oven. My heart starts beating quickly, adrenaline pumping in my throat. Could I? I couldn’t. No. But maybe...
‘Eve? Are you listening to me?’
‘Yes, of course.’ I drop three salmon fillets into my biggest frying pan. ‘Did he ever find out what you’d done?’
Jess looks at me like I’ve lost the plot. ‘I just told you, his editor spotted the additions just before it went live. He couldn’t prove it was me — I did it from his phone.’
‘Attagirl.’ I squeeze some lemon over the fish and put it in the oven with the vegetables, before moving into the living room and perching on the windowsill. ‘You never saw him again, then?’
‘Nope.’ She giggles. ‘Will you sit down? You’re like a bloody budgie.’
‘Shut up.’
She rolls over onto her side, repositioning the cushions underneath her. ‘God, it’s so hot. Do you think Will was alright the other day?’
The sudden change in topic makes me pay attention. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I dunno.’ She stands up and goes to the back door, pulling it open even wider. ‘He seemed really tired.’
‘He’s living with a baby.’ I shrug. ‘It comes with the territory.’
‘Hm.’ She flops back down onto the floor and spreads her arms and legs like a starfish. ‘Eve, I’m dying.’
‘I’ve got a couple of those cucumber face masks upstairs?’
‘Oh my god, yes, please.’
I go up the stairs, noticing a little bit of dust here, a slight mark on the carpet there. I make a mental note to rent a rug doctor while the weather’s good.
As I rifle through the bathroom cupboards, my idea comes back to me. It’s dangerous, of course, but tempting. Is it too far? I remember Kirsty’s emails, the way she used my support as a weapon against me. I deserve that job. I’ve worked harder and put in longer hours than her. I’m a year or two younger than her, sure, but I have more experience, I’m more senior than she is. It’s a no-brainer, surely?
Florina’s target market might be women, but upper management is an old boys’ club. Everyone knows you’ve got to be ruthless to make it in, to prove that you’re willing to go above and beyond and put emotions to the side. But she’s my friend . How could she do this to me?
‘Eve!’ Jess calls from downstairs, her voice panicked. ‘Eve, there’s a cat in your living room!’
I take the stairs two at a time, clutching the face masks in my fists. ‘What?’ I pant as I skid into the living room. ‘Where?’
‘It’s just run out!’ She points to the back door. ‘A dead scrawny one.’
I peer through the back door, but there’s nothing but the sun-baked patio. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘I swear!’ She puts her hand to her chest. ‘It just ran in and jumped on the sofa. There.’
She points to a patch on the cushion, where a few wispy hairs have settled on the fabric.
‘It’ll be that one from next door again.’ I sigh. ‘It was in the garden a week or so ago.’
‘Aw, cute.’ She pouts. ‘Do you think it’s lost?’
‘Who knows.’ I shrug. ‘Anyway, shall we do these face masks?’
‘Sure.’
We paste the cool mixture onto our hot skin and then lie, sighing, on the kitchen tiles.
‘What are you thinking, Eve?’ Jess turns her head towards me.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re plotting something. You’re always quiet when you’re scheming.’
‘I’m not!’ I slap her arm.
‘Don’t touch me, I’m burning to death.’
I laugh. ‘Pour a bucket of water over me.’
‘And ruin your floors? You’d never forgive me.’
I sigh. ‘You’re right.’
She looks at me again, but I stay quiet.
‘Honestly, Eve.’ She taps her foot against mine. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’
‘I won’t.’
She sniffs loudly. ‘I think your fish is burning, mate.’