‘What are you drinking?’ Janey asks, rummaging in her bag, presumably for her purse.
‘Let me get these. I owe you one after all,’ I say before pushing my way to the bar. I don’t tell her I took twenty quid out of Ava’s money box to come out. Obviously, I’m going to put twenty pounds back in as soon as I get my next payment off Mike tomorrow, but I don’t know Janey well enough to be sure she’d see the funny side.
I order my half of Fosters, some peanuts, and Janey’s Prosecco and it’s over a tenner. It’s going to be a short night.
‘Ahh, this is nice,’ Janey says. ‘I love my kids but I love a bit of me-time too if you know what I mean. I feel torn in half most days trying to keep Tom off his silly computer games whilst Seren mithers at me to bake or spills slime all over the carpet.’
‘How about Jimmy? Is he much help?’
Janey has a mouth full of peanuts so shakes her head. ‘He’s got a carpet business and spends more or less every day of the week fitting carpets in the most far-flung places you could find. Honestly, you’d think the people round here didn’t have use for carpets.’
‘Oh.’ I’m not sure what else to say.
She picks at the corner of a beer mat and doesn’t look up. I can’t see her face but her body looks like it’s caved in on itself. Her confident, broad shoulders stoop like someone is pressing down on them. ‘I know I should be grateful. He’s making decent money but he’s not much use when he is at home.’
I swallow.
‘Listen, if the kids are with Mike every weekend, we should do this more often. Mine are always sleeping out, which is something since Jimmy never helps out.’ She sounds more upbeat now.
I’d love to but I don’t think my bank balance could keep up.
‘What’s the matter?’ Janey says, studying my face. ‘You’ve not touched your drink yet.’
I don’t want to tell her I’m making it last. ‘Oh, nothing. It’s just that things … finances, are a bit tight since the divorce. Regular pub trips are a bit out of my league at the minute.’
‘Oh, Steph love, you should have said. I’ve got a nice bottle of pink Prosecco at home we could have had.’
‘No,’ I protest. ‘I’m glad to be out. This is nice and it’s not something I ever do. I just can’t do it often. I am job hunting though.’
‘What did you do before …’ She kinks her head side to side, and I take it to mean kids.
‘I was a bookkeeper. So it’s not like I gave up a huge salary or anything but any extra would help right now.’
‘That should be easy to go back into shouldn’t it? Nothing is sure except death and taxes, so they say.’
I shrug. ‘I thought so but I haven’t even managed to get an interview anywhere. I think I’ve been out of the game for too long. I’d need training on the latest bookkeeping software, and nobody wants to invest that sort of time in their staff anymore. I might have to ditch taxes and go into funerals at this rate.’
She reaches across the table and puts her hand on mine. ‘You’ll get something soon.’
‘It would be nice to get together more though when you’re free,’ I say, bravely putting myself forward.
‘Yeah, it would. Do you know what I’ve always fancied doing that wouldn’t cost much?’
I have a mouth full of peanuts so shake my head.
‘A book club.’
I raise my eyebrows. In my brief time of knowing her, I didn’t have Janey down as a bookworm.
‘That actually sounds like quite good fun,’ I say after swallowing my beer.
‘I think so. We could meet, say, once a month and talk about what we’d read over drinks and nibbles. We’d have to set a book each month, of course, and commit to reading it.’
I’m so elated I could cry. The inside of my nose is tingling and everything. This is a commitment to see an adult human on a regular basis. ‘That sounds fab.’
‘Great. Let’s choose a book now and we can start reading asap!’ She pronounces asap as a word. ‘I’ll read anything. Is there a book in particular that you fancy?’
I pause to think. ‘Actually, there’s been so much hype about The Handmaid’s Tale that I wouldn’t mind seeing what all the fuss is about, if you’ve not already read it. I haven’t watched the show or anything.’
Janey practically jumps out of her seat. ‘Perfect. I haven’t seen it either but have heard so many good things.’
‘I kept meaning to give it a whirl but once the kids are in bed, I just need something light and short, so I tend to binge on Friends reruns or Schitt’s Creek.’ I don’t say why I need something light to help me sleep.
She pulls out her phone and starts typing. ‘I’m just ordering it now. Do you want me to get you a copy whilst I’ve got it here on Amazon?’
I shake my head. ‘I’ll sort out a copy.’ Perhaps I can raid the local charity shops.
‘Fantastic,’ Janey says jigging with excitement. ‘I’ll get the next round in.’
Before I can stop her she’s off. I search for a copy of The Handmaid’s Tale online but once you factor in postage it’s the price of a couple of packed lunches. If I can’t get a second-hand copy, I’ll join the library over in Crinkly.
‘Here you go, book buddy!’ she says, plonking another beer down in front of me with enough enthusiasm the white foam sloshes over the top.
Something about going out and being in Janey’s company has really spurred me on. I’ve found an advert for a bookkeeper position at a vet’s practice in Crinkly, which is the next village along to ours. Rather than request the application form by email, I decided to drive over and ask for one. Otis could do with a worming tablet and I thought it would be better to meet the staff in person, just to prove I don’t have two heads or anything. I’ve been out of work so long that any employer worth their salt is bound to think there’s something wrong with me.
Inside, it’s quite dark and dingy. The tall reception desk is panelled in worn, dark wood. There’s an empty chair behind it. Otis starts to whimper and tug me back towards the door – he’s not a fan of the vet’s and the distinctive smell must be prompting some unpleasant memories. I crouch down as best I can whilst balancing Henry, and stroke his head until he calms a little. Still, nobody appears and I don’t want to knock on the door that says: ‘Consultation Room’. For all I know, the vet could be in there telling someone their beloved pet is dead so I should wait. On the other hand, I could be here hours. The decaying remains of Otis and me could go undiscovered for years. There’s an advert for the job on the practice’s noticeboard that says, ‘Ask at reception for an application form.’ Brilliant!
After five long minutes, I go to leave but the door creaks open behind me. It’s the one to the consultation room.
A