The Girl I Used to Be(40)

“If you get any bad feeling about that, as though they’re trying to make you do something you don’t want to do, then don’t go into the house with them. Always have an excuse prepared, like you need to get something from your car.”

They were in a pretty somber mood by then.

“Has something happened?” asked Sophie. “You’ve told us all this before, but . . .” She looked up at me and her face looked so young and scared. “I know I’m here in the office all the time, but it frightens me to think that someone might attack one of you. I’d hate to get a call where someone spoke about Anne-Marie.”

I could see that Rachel looked pale and scared, too, as though she were panicking about what she’d do if someone frightened her when she was on her own. Lucy seemed more confident, though she was much more experienced and more likely to see trouble coming. I knew, though, how easily something could come out of the blue and destroy your sense of self.

“No, there’s nothing for you to worry about,” I said. “I was reading an article about personal safety the other day. A woman in Bolton is running courses; I’ll get in touch with her later and ask for some advice.”

After the meeting Rachel and I sat together and I went through some points she hadn’t raised in the meeting.

“Thanks for not bringing them up in front of the others,” she said. She sounded a bit embarrassed and relieved. “That was really nice of you.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I remember what it was like when I first starting holding the morning meetings.”

She looked at me, curious now. “What, you were scared?”

I laughed. “I was petrified. I used to work in London when I first left university. It was so competitive there, especially in the estate agency business.”

“I would have thought you’d like that. You’re pretty competitive, though, aren’t you?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I just wanted to run my own business. In London . . . well, it got a bit cutthroat. All sorts of tricks were pulled. You used to work for Bailey and Harding back home, didn’t you? That’s the sort of place I want here.”

She nodded. “I worked for them every weekend, when I was at university and then for about a year afterward.”

“They gave you a great reference.”

She blushed. “How was your mum when you went back the other day?” she asked. “Did everything go well? She was at Arrowe Park, wasn’t she?”

“What?” I’d completely forgotten that I’d told them I’d been up to see my mum when I’d really been in London. “Oh yes, she was fine, thanks. It was just a checkup.”

We sat for a few more minutes. I could hear Sophie busy with the photocopier in the back office, and Brian was washing up the cups from our meeting.

“Do you ever go back there?” I asked Rachel.

She started. “Back where?”

“Back home.” I smiled. “I don’t know why I call it home. I haven’t lived there since I was eighteen.”

“There’s nothing for me to go back for,” she said. “And I was glad to get away. It doesn’t hold very good memories for me.”

“Me neither.”

Rachel put all her papers back into her file and stood up. For a moment I saw her mouth tremble, and I felt guilty. Her mother had only died last year; it was obviously still raw. I watched her as she sat at her computer and drank some water. She was soon typing really fast, focused on her work, and I hoped she’d be all right.

Before I started work, I e-mailed the personal safety adviser and asked her to contact me. A reply bounced back saying she was on holiday until August 18 but that she’d be in touch, so I set up a reminder on my diary to make sure I contacted her then if I hadn’t heard from her.

The morning went quickly, with a sudden rush of clients calling in around lunchtime, so we all had to abandon any hope of lunch. At three P.M., as usual, the office grew quieter. Everyone set about their routine jobs so that everything was arranged for the next morning. Sophie was in the window, stocking up the brochures, while Brian was on the phone to a plumber to fix a leak in a tenant’s apartment.

“Sophie, do you fancy running out for some cakes for everyone?” I asked. “My treat.”

“Cakes? It’s not your birthday, is it?”

“No, I just wanted to treat everyone. We need a sugar hit.”

While Sophie went off happily to the shops, I went over to Rachel’s desk. “I wanted to talk to you alone for a minute,” I said. “How long have you been here now? Six months?”

Rachel nodded, her expression wary.

“You’ve worked really well. I’ve had this place for over seven years now and you’ve picked things up quicker than anyone else who’s worked here.”

She blushed and looked down. Her hands played with the rings on her fingers. “I’d been working for Bailey and Harding, don’t forget. I learned a lot there, too.”

“Don’t undervalue yourself. You’ve done really well here. And I’ve realized that I really need someone who can stand in for me. I want to cut down my hours a bit; I want to spend more time with Rory. So, I thought I’d promote you to senior negotiator and look for someone new for your role. What do you think?”