‘What? Are you serious?’ Lizzie almost fell off her seat. ‘When?’
‘I’m going to wait three more months, just to make sure I’ve saved up enough. But if everything goes to plan, I’ll hand in my notice while you’re on your honeymoon. That’s assuming I don’t explode first. Everyone’s on my case this week.’
‘Then what?’
‘Then I’m going to set up my own web business. It’ll just be me to start with, but at least I’ll be the boss!’
Lizzie toyed with the rim of her glass. ‘Won’t that be a big pay cut?’
‘Ha, now you sound like my mum. That’ll be the first thing she says.’ Naomi reached for another handful of peanuts. ‘I don’t think it’ll be so bad. I’ve been saving up for a while and my old roommate reckons she can put some work my way.’ She threw a nut in the air and caught it in her mouth. ‘Anyway, my mind’s made up.’
‘Whoa. This is huge.’ Lizzie was quiet for a second, allowing the news to sink in. She was going to miss Naomi horribly, but she admired her guts. Maybe it’s time I moved on, too. She’d only meant to take the job for a couple of years before writing a book of her own, but now her five-year work anniversary was creeping up fast, and she was becoming part of the office furniture. ‘Don’t get me wrong, though; I think it’s amazing. I’d love to do my own thing.’
‘Like what?’
She hesitated. ‘Don’t laugh, but I’d really like to write a novel.’
‘Why would I laugh? You’d be a great writer!’
‘Really?’
‘Definitely. You should totally do it.’ She grinned. ‘You only live once, right?’
Lizzie was tempted. Naomi’s got a point. If I never give it a go, I’m always going to sit there wondering, aren’t I?
‘Let me think about it for a while. I need to talk it over with Josh.’
‘You should tell him tonight!’ Lizzie had never seen her friend so excited.
‘Maybe,’ she smiled. ‘Depends what kind of mood he’s in when I get back. He’s a terrible patient.’ Josh was normally so active that he couldn’t cope when he was laid low. ‘That reminds me, I should probably head off soon and pick up some stuff for dinner. It’ll take me a while to get home.’
‘Not so fast,’ said Naomi. ‘Let’s have a toast before we go.’
‘To what?’
Naomi looked thoughtful. ‘To taking the plunge,’ she said with a cheeky grin. ‘And to your future bestseller, of course.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ said Lizzie, raising her glass. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers,’ said Naomi, clinking hers against it. ‘Oh, and there’s one thing you have to promise me before you go.’
Lizzie was curious. ‘Go on …’
‘When you’re a famous writer, can I run your website?’
Lizzie hurried up the front path, desperate to set down the two carrier bags that were digging painfully into her left palm. One had a large split in the side and was threatening to burst open at any second, spilling its contents everywhere. Just … one … more … minute. She opened the door with her other hand and squeezed into the hall, promptly tripping over Josh’s mud-caked trainers in the process. The bag gave way and two tins of chopped tomatoes tumbled out, almost landing on her toes.
Aaaargh.
She bundled up the food as best she could and lugged it towards the kitchen. The sound of the fridge door being slammed made her jump.
‘Josh, I’m going to make spag bol tonight. You hungry?’
A figure stepped out from the shadow of the kitchen doorway into the hall. ‘Hey, Lizzie, got any more beers?’ said Freddie. ‘I can’t find any.’ He had, however, managed to find the tortilla chips that she’d been saving for movie night with Megan. He fished one out with his stubby fingers, overloaded it with salsa and licked it. Then he double-dipped it back into the jar, before crunching it loudly between his big teeth. Gross. Lizzie tried not to gag and pointed him in the direction of the bottom cupboard.
‘There’s usually a few more in there. They won’t be cold, though.’
‘Shame. Never mind.’ He shuffled back into the kitchen and shoved the half-eaten salsa in the fridge. As if we’d want it now! Then he bent down, his ill-fitting jeans giving her a view she’d rather not have seen, and retrieved two cans of lager.
‘Got any bitter?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ What do I look like, a pub?
‘OK, then, we’ll take a couple of these …’ It didn’t seem to occur to him to ask if she might like a drink.
‘Want some pork scratchings with that?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘No thanks, I’m alright,’ said Freddie.
That’s debatable.
She changed the subject. ‘How’s Josh feeling now?’
‘You what?’ Freddie blinked gormlessly.
‘He wasn’t feeling well today. He called in sick.’
‘Oh. Dunno. He didn’t mention it.’
Probably because he couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Freddie liked the sound of his own voice way too much, though most of the time he didn’t say anything worth listening to. Whenever he and Josh met up, it was like they were sucked back to their sixth-form days, where they’d bonded over sport and beer and immature banter – which, to be honest, was pretty much still the glue that kept their friendship together. Lizzie had started to dread him showing up at their place, and would have stayed out with Naomi if she’d known he was coming over. Still, at least she could send him home afterwards. She pitied his new wife Fran, who was stuck with him for good.
She followed him through to the lounge, where Josh was looking decidedly more lively, shouting at the footballers on the TV. The only sign of his illness was the trail of used tissues scattered on the sofa beside him.
‘Hi, gorgeous. Freddie’s here,’ he said, stating the obvious.
‘Yes, we were just chatting,’ she said. ‘How are you feeling now?’ When she’d left for work that morning, Josh made out that he was practically dying, blowing his nose loudly and speaking with a rasp that could have impressed Darth Vader.
‘Much better, thanks. It seemed to shift once I got up.’
‘That’s good.’ She gave him a big smile. ‘Don’t suppose you managed to write a few invites then, by any chance?’
‘What?’ He forced a cough. ‘No, I mean I’m on the mend, but I’m obviously not 100 per cent yet.’
Obviously.
‘Alright. Well, I guess we could do them on Saturday.’
‘That was never a foul,’ interrupted Freddie, oblivious to the fact that another conversation was taking place. ‘Did you see that? Unbelievable.’
‘Er, no, I didn’t,’ said Josh. ‘Rewind a minute and we’ll watch it again.’
‘The ref’s a twat,’ said Freddie.
‘Takes one to know one,’ Lizzie muttered under her breath.
Josh turned his attention back to her. ‘Sorry, hon, what were you saying?’
‘I was just saying we need to sort the invites. But