‘You want to know about my deal?’ I repeated, hoping I hadn’t heard him properly.
‘What’s your deal?’ he said again, karate-chopping his own hand to emphasize each word. ‘Why do you want to work at PodPad?’
‘Because I’m truly passionate about sharing the truth with people and I believe radi— I mean, podcasting, is the greatest medium we have to communicate the stories that matter to the people who need to hear them,’ I said carefully. It was a never-fail interview line but he just carried on staring at me, not speaking or moving.
‘Why do you want to work at PodPad?’ I asked, starting to get annoyed. ‘And seriously, what is your name?’
‘We’ll get to names if I decide to offer you a position,’ he said, completely ignoring my first question with the hint of a smirk on his face.
For the first time in my life, I longed for an awkward, stilted interview across an MDF desk conducted in an HR dungeon by someone called Brenda. I had taken my Brendas for granted and I was regretting it. You always knew where you were with a Brenda. Was I wasting my time? Why would a company like PodPad want to hire me anyway?
‘I’m here because I need a job,’ I said plainly. It was cards on the table time. ‘I’m thirty-two, I’m living in a shed in my parents’ back garden, no one is hiring in radio between here and the Outer Hebrides and, if I don’t get a job soon, I’m going to have to retrain as either an optician or an international assassin.’
The redhead’s smirk grew into a fully fledged grin.
‘Why an optician?’
‘Seems like a good job,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Decent hours, good money. I’ve spent a lot of time sitting in little dark rooms so that seems like transferrable skill. Oh, and some opticians work in Boots and I love Boots.’
‘And international assassin?’
I chewed on the inside of my cheek.
‘I like to travel?’
‘But you’d have to kill people.’
‘Every job’s got its downside,’ I reasoned.
We stood face to face in the bright, busy office for slightly too long a moment and stared at each other in silence until the redhead stuck out his fist. For a split second, I thought it was going to punch me and instinctively shirked away. And then I realized he wanted me to fist-bump him and I died inside.
‘I’m Ted,’ he said as I reluctantly tapped my knuckles against his. ‘Welcome to the team.’
‘To our working girl! Wait, no, that sounds terrible.’
Adrian raised a glass of sparkling wine while Lucy and Sumi cheered loudly enough to attract the attention of everyone in the bar who wasn’t wearing AirPods. Which, to be fair, wasn’t that many people.
‘If I hadn’t got this job, it would have been a very real possibility,’ I replied as we clinked our glasses together. ‘Not sure I’d have made a lot of money though.’
As soon as I’d messaged my friends to let them know the PodPad interview was a success, they insisted we all get together for a celebratory dinner that evening, just like old times. The only downside was, they also insisted we meet at Good Luck Bar, despite my protestations. The food was amazing, Lucy said. It was the most convenient place for everyone, Sumi insisted. And John always took a chunk off the bill, Adrian added. And so, there we were, installed in a baby-pink velvet booth that made me feel as though we were sitting on a particularly comfortable blancmange, but it was worth it to have the three of them together at such short notice. I hadn’t seen them all together in one place since the last time I’d been back for Christmas, almost two years ago and that was far too long to go without your best friends.
‘Tell us about the show you’re producing,’ Lucy said, full of encouragement as usual as she topped up my water.
‘I don’t actually know much about it,’ I admitted. ‘They were all so busy today they didn’t really tell me anything. I’ve got my induction tomorrow. When you work for a network like that, you could be doing a million different things, it’s so exciting.’
‘I can’t believe you found such an amazing job so quickly,’ Adrian said with a congratulatory punch in the arm. Adrian and I had known each other since we were babies. His parents had lived next door to mine until his granddad died when we were fifteen and they moved into his fancy pile of bricks twenty minutes down the road. ‘What happened with the old one, anyway?’
‘Oh, it’s just …’ I opened my mouth, looking for the words. They were my best friends, I could tell them, surely?
‘She missed us so much she had to come home,’ Sumi interjected loudly. ‘And now she’s on to bigger and better things.’
I threw her a grateful look and agreed with a nod.
‘I’m very happy for you, although I was hoping you’d slack off for a while and hang out with me,’ Adrian said, throwing his arm around my shoulders. ‘I hardly ever see these two, always too busy for me.’
‘Some of us have to work for a living,’ I replied, needling him gently. ‘Some of us don’t have houses bought for us by our parents.’
‘You kind of do,’ Sumi reasoned with a grin.
‘Show me the photos again,’ insisted Lucy, her lovely face shining. ‘I can’t believe your dad built it for you, it’s so sweet. Like a grown-up Wendy house.’
‘Do you think the Lost Boys made her a compostable toilet?’ Sumi asked sweetly.
‘Where’s the waitress?’ I asked, keen to change the subject even as Sumi rustled around in my handbag, searching for my phone. ‘I’m starving to death over here. A working woman has to eat.’
‘Got to order at the bar,’ Adrian replied as Sumi and Lucy pored over pictures of my shed. ‘Is that a framed photo of Justin Timberlake?’
‘Is that a Groovy Chick duvet cover?’ Lucy asked. ‘Oh my god, what a flashback.’
‘I’ll go,’ I offered, shuffling out of the booth, taking a menu with me. ‘Be right back.’
Pitching up at the bar, I earned a welcoming smile from the same waitress I’d met the night before.
‘You’re Sumi’s friend,’ she stated, reaching an amiable hand across the bar. ‘I’m Camille.’
‘Ros.’ I navigated my arm through the taps to return her firm handshake. ‘Hello again.’
‘I’ll let John know you’re here before you order,’ she asked, pointing at the menu in my hand. ‘Chef’s trying out some specials I know he’ll want you all to try. You lot are our official guinea pigs.’
I glanced behind her into the kitchens and saw tall, dark and angry from the night before, deep in conversation with an equally tall, very pretty blonde. ‘Don’t worry,’ I insisted, politely trying to avoid another confrontation. ‘Looks like he’s busy.’
‘With her?’ Camille turned up her tiny nose with ready indiscretion. ‘She won’t be staying long. Fingers crossed.’
‘Girlfriend?’ I asked. They were talking intently but they definitely didn’t give off a colleague vibe.
‘The wife.’ She made little air quotes with her fingers and, from the look on her face, it seemed as though there wasn’t much love lost between them. I couldn’t help but be curious.
‘Does she work here?’
‘Hmm,’ she confirmed, looking