The Girl I Used to Be(6)

She was only down for a moment, though, before she nudged me, saying, “How did it go with that guy? He was nice, wasn’t he?”

I laughed. “I could tell you liked him.”

“Tall, dark, and handsome,” she mused. “Fit, too. Gorgeous. Rachel thought he was, too.”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did. Pity he’s too old for us.”

I raised my eyebrows. “He’s my age, thanks.”

“That’s what I mean.”

Rachel, her face scarlet now, nudged her, and I left them to it.

But later, before we closed the office, I called a meeting so we could thrash out some ideas for properties for David. We got together a list of another six that we thought he’d love, and then I e-mailed him to see whether he wanted to see any of the others.

He replied immediately.


They sound great. I particularly liked the third one we saw today, the one with the view of the racecourse. I need to get my mortgage sorted out first, though—will be in touch soon.

I sighed. He’d told me he had his mortgage sorted. It seemed he was yet another client messing me around. I’d learned from experience that until someone had got a guaranteed mortgage, they weren’t seriously looking. I guessed we wouldn’t be seeing him again, but I wrote back saying he should let me know if he wanted me to recommend a financial adviser.

Will do, he replied. See you soon.





TWO


WHEN I ARRIVED home, I walked through the house toward the happy sounds I could hear in the garden. I stood unnoticed at the patio windows, watching Rory run up the lawn and into the paddling pool, splashing water and shrieking. The hosepipe lay on the grass, filling up the pool, as it emptied every time he jumped into it. Joe sat on the patio, a beer in his hand, wearing just his shorts. He had his Kindle in his hand, one eye on the screen, the other on Rory.

“Hey,” I said, and he jumped. I kissed him on his cheek. “My two boys.”

“Hi.” He put the bottle down on the patio and I stooped to pick it up again and put it on the table. “Good day?”

“It was okay.” I sat beside him and sipped his beer. “I spent hours taking some guy round a load of properties that I don’t think he’ll be buying.”

“Argh, time-waster,” he said. “That’s the way it is, though, I suppose.”

“You weren’t the one wasting your time! Mind you,” I said, looking Joe straight in the eye, “he was very attractive . . .”

He laughed. “Perk of the job.”

Joe was a stay-at-home dad. We’d been married for a few years, but still it was unexpected when I got pregnant with Rory. Joe was working in IT and though he was paid well, he wasn’t enjoying his job much and was looking for a change, whereas I was really happy at work and was bringing in quite a bit more than he was each month. I didn’t want to bring in a manager and lose control of the place, so when Joe suggested he should stay at home with the baby, I jumped at the chance. My hours were awkward, and I knew I’d never find a childminder or nursery that would keep Rory late at short notice. We were typical prospective parents in that we thought our lives wouldn’t change much when our baby was born; Joe had sworn he’d be able to take on part-time jobs while Rory slept, and I’d believed him. That first year had been a massive learning curve for both of us.

And now, well, house sales were down nationally and that was showing no sign of change soon. I had to work longer and longer hours to try to keep clients happy and to keep staffing as low as I could. Any ideas I’d had of taking days off to care for Rory were suddenly blown out of the water. Only two days ago Joe had told me his skills were now three years out of date and he’d suddenly found that he could no longer apply for certain jobs even if he wanted to, as technology had moved on so rapidly. The thought of being the only wage-earner was now making me panic. It wasn’t that I minded, just that houses didn’t seem to be shifting at the moment and I couldn’t think of a way to make more sales. I was worried, too, about the rentals I owned; they were mortgaged up to the hilt and it would only take one defaulter to mean we’d lose hundreds of pounds each month. And if houses weren’t selling, I wouldn’t be able to sell mine, either. Or not unless I made a loss. The thought of that would keep me awake at night. And Joe . . . I had a horrible feeling that he’d stopped looking for work. He changed the subject when I brought it up and I could never bring myself to press the matter.

Then Rory saw me and all thoughts of that left my mind. He yelled with delight and ran toward me, his arms outstretched.

I leaned down to kiss him, my face buried in his hair. “Hello, my lovely boy. Have you had a good time?”

“I’ve been in the paddling pool all day,” he said. “But I’m starving! What’s for tea?”

“It’s in the oven,” said Joe. “Lasagne. It’ll just be a few more minutes, so let’s get you into the bath and it’ll be ready by the time you’re out.”

“I’ll take him,” I said quickly. “Come on, Rory; let’s go.”

Rory stood between us, indecision on his face. “I want Dad to take me.”

I felt a familiar prickle of hurt. “Come on, sweetheart; I haven’t seen you all day! You can tell me what you’ve been up to.”