‘You know I have the time,’ mutters Kathryn, still staring at her hands, and I sense tension between them.
‘Nonsense.’ She turns her attention back to me. ‘I like to be surrounded by youth. It keeps me young.’
I’m sure I hear Kathryn make a derisive sound through her nose, but either Mrs McKenzie doesn’t hear or she chooses to ignore it. ‘I think you’ll find the salary is competitive,’ she says, and tells me a figure twice my current salary – which isn’t hard considering that’s barely minimum wage, but still. With no rent or bills to worry about I can begin to pay back my credit card, which has reached its limit, thanks to my ex, Vince. My dream of travelling actually has a chance of being realized. She stands up. Kathryn and I follow suit.
‘I’ll be in touch. Kathryn will show you out.’
‘Thank you, Mrs McKenzie. It was lovely to meet you.’ I extend a hand and she takes it with a little jolt of surprise, as though she hadn’t expected me to have any manners. I want this job so badly, despite Kathryn’s brooding presence.
‘Please,’ she says, holding on to my hand. ‘Call me Elspeth.’
It’s dark by the time I get home. I had to take two buses from Clifton to Horfield, where I live. Thankfully, the main roads are mostly free of snow now, but even so the journey took over an hour.
The flat I share with Courtney is above a chemist and consists of a poky kitchenette/lounge/diner, two small bedrooms and a bathroom. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said the whole flat could fit into Elspeth McKenzie’s hallway. But it’s all we can afford on our wages. Courtney likes to tell people she works in fashion, but really she’s a hairdresser at a salon on Gloucester Road. I already know she won’t be home yet. She works late every other Friday.
The alleyway that leads around the back of the chemist to our flat is dark and thick with ice and, for a fleeting moment, I think of Vince. If we were still going out he’d have cleared the snow for us. But we haven’t spoken since our huge row on New Year’s Eve, eighteen days ago – not that I’m counting. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him back. Not after what he did.
I climb the concrete staircase that always smells of piss, my heart heavy. Usually, after a day like today, I’d ring my mum. I’d tell her all about Elspeth McKenzie and her posh house and her uptight daughter. Or we’d get together and laugh about it over tea and biscuits – Mum loved her tea: she drank at least ten cups a day – and then she’d advise me gently not to judge a book by its cover, that they might not be what they seem. Grief washes over me, as it often does, that she’s not at the end of the phone or a few streets away, that she’s gone for ever. I have to swallow the lump in my throat. It’s not yet been three months. I’ve been through a Christmas and a New Year since she died and it’s still so fresh and raw, and I can’t see an end to it. I know I’ll always feel this way. I’ll miss her for the rest of my life.
I let myself into the tiny hallway, switching on the lights, which only highlights the drabness of the place: the brown scratchy carpets, the beige melamine kitchen units, the magnolia walls. Courtney and I have tried to cheer the place up with colourful throws, which I crocheted, on the old, worn sofa, bright prints and photos of us taken on numerous nights out to cover the woodchip wallpaper, but it has made little difference. After Elspeth’s magnificent house, the flat seems even more dreary, cramped and tatty.
Dumping my bag on the pine table that’s shoved up against the wall to make room for the sofa, I shrug off my damp coat and hang it on the back of the chair. I have to make a concerted effort to be tidy around Courtney. In that regard we’re the total opposite. Mum and I always argued about the state of my bedroom when I lived at home, and Courtney is so tidy it borders on obsessional.
The flat is freezing and I turn the storage heater up a little, blowing on my hands, which look like two slabs of raw meat. They start to itch and I place them under my armpits to warm up – a tip Mum gave me years ago. I switch the kettle on and take a Co-op meal for one out of the freezer. While it’s in the microwave I sit at the table, staring at nothing. I have to change my life. A new year, a new beginning. Things can’t go on as they have been. I don’t even see that much of Courtney any more as we work different hours and she’s spending more time with her boyfriend, Kris with a K.
My mobile springs to life, startling me. I reach for it, expecting it to be Courtney, so I’m surprised to see a number I don’t recognize flash up on the screen.