As Chloe lay in bed listening to the house creak, she was fully aware that she was drifting through life. She didn’t need her mother to point it out to her. She was twenty-six years old, single, a graduate, working part time as a checkout assistant in Marks & Spencer for £10.06 an hour, living at ‘home’ – again (with her now dead father’s mistress). She knew she had no prospects and no plan.
Her share of the inheritance would change all that, of course.
As much as she disliked herself for thinking about it, she couldn’t not. There was going to be money coming her way – how much exactly she didn’t know, but by the look of it, it would be a substantial enough sum to make a real difference to her life. She would be able to pay off her debts, finally, and in full this time. She would – as her mother had so tartly pointed out – be able to start over again, somewhere new, somewhere more vibrant and exciting than a small seaside town. She might retrain. Maybe do something useful for society, something worthwhile – work for a charity, perhaps. Whatever she chose, she could reboot, write a new script, give herself a starring role, for a change. With some money behind her, she would be able to do whatever she wanted.
The problem was that she had no idea what she wanted to do.
And the thought of having to decide was overwhelming.
Chloe didn’t really want choices – look what had happened when she’d followed her instincts, and her heart.
Knowing it would only increase her heartache, Chloe reached for her phone, and her past. She scrolled back to a time in her life when anything had seemed possible, even probable – because of Hanna.
She and Hanna had become friends at the end of their second year at university. Chloe had always liked and admired Hanna, a lot, from afar. She was arty, independent, strong-willed – all the characteristics that Chloe admired. Becoming her friend had made Chloe braver, and better. It was Hanna who set her sights on London after graduation. Hanna who found a flat with her boyfriend, Keiron, which they could just about afford. Hanna who persuaded Chloe she had nothing to lose by giving life in the capital a try.
Tooting Bec. It was hardly the centre of the universe, but it had felt like it after three years in Huddersfield. Chloe had a job she enjoyed that paid peanuts, at an arts centre, found for her by Hanna; and another, at a cinema, that paid her a tiny bit more. With the income from both jobs, she was just about able to find her share of the rent every month. She was skint most of the time, but she was happy. She had independence and excitement and fun, and a network of late buses that led to unexpected places and brought her into contact with new people, some of whom seemed to like her, a few of whom even seemed to fancy her.
It had all been going so well – until the night in Battersea, on the pavement outside The Magic Garden, when Hanna and Keiron had another of their sudden flashy arguments.
Chloe had actually held their coats as they cut into each other with flare and passion. It had been short and nasty. Beer was downed and wine was thrown, then Keiron left, in a macho flounce, with a promise to never come back, not even if she begged him on bended knee. (He’d promised as much many times before, in equally florid terms.) Hanna had given Keiron the finger and gone back inside the pub to buy another round. She’d returned, eyes glittering with adrenaline, her dark hair freshly brushed, her lips reglossed, and announced to Chloe, to The Magic Garden’s clientele and to half of Battersea that Keiron could go screw himself… And he was going to have to, because she had no intention of going anywhere near him ever again!
The rest of the night had been great fun. Laughing at Keiron in absentia. Decrying all men as a waste a space. Linking up with a random assortment of other feisty girls in the bars and ladies’ loos of South London. They’d eventually washed up in one of the little late-night cafés on Battersea Park Road, along with the usual mix of hard-core party animals and the early-rising workmen.
They’d both ordered the meat-free breakfast. Hanna was vegetarian.
As they drank tea and waited for their fry-ups, the frantic mood faded into something more reflective. The inevitable comedown. Chloe guessed that Hanna was regretting the fight, maybe even worrying about where Keiron had got to and why he hadn’t called. ‘Why don’t you message him?’
‘He’ll be crashed out round at Liam’s by now. Total lightweight. Always has been.’ She pulled a face, but there was no vitriol in her tone any more.
Chloe, picking up on the signs, gave Hanna the opening to talk about her relationship with Keiron that she seemed to be looking for. ‘Has it always been so … fiery between you two?
Hanna rubbed at a mark on her top, stretching the fabric across her breasts. ‘Yeah. But that’s what I wanted … want. We fell for each other hard when we first met. Really hard. I liked that he wasn’t a student. We were SO into each other. Literally couldn’t get enough. I suppose it covered up the fact that we actually have bugger all in common.’
‘Other than a temper.’ It came out of Chloe’s mouth before she could stop herself.
But Hanna was amused rather than annoyed. She smiled, a little sadly. ‘Yeah, true enough. But you can’t have everything in a relationship, can you? If you have passion, you’re gonna fight. You have opinions, you’re gonna argue.’ She flicked her fingers. A
