HANNAH MCKINNON
Time After Time

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Published by Avon

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2016

Copyright © Hannah McKinnon 2016

Hannah McKinnon asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © June 2016 ISBN: 9780008191849

Version 2017-11-14

To Robert, Leo, Matt & Lex – with love, always

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: A Blast From The Past

Chapter 2: Going Nowhere

Chapter 3: Let’s Play Pretend

Chapter 4: Any Second Now

Chapter 5: 1988 It Was Genius

Chapter 6: A Different Life

Chapter 7: 1988 Here Goes Nothing

Chapter 8: Smoke And Mirrors

Chapter 9: 1990 Got to Keep Control

Chapter 10: Long Way Home

Chapter 11: 1990 My Girl

Chapter 12: Some Things Never Change

Chapter 13: 1993 a New Chapter

Chapter 14: Anywhere But … Where?

Chapter 15: 1993 New York, New York

Chapter 16: Mind Games

Chapter 17: 1993 Smooth Operator

Chapter 18: Living The Dream

Chapter 19: 1993 Sweet Little Lies

Chapter 20: How The Other Half Live

Chapter 21: 1995 Moving on Up

Chapter 22: Nothing But The Truth

Chapter 23: 1995 All That Glitters

Chapter 24: A Perfect Lie

Chapter 25: 1996 Definitely Not, Baby

Chapter 26: Freefalling

Chapter 27: 1996 Everything I Do

Chapter 28: I Wonder …

Chapter 29: 1997 Same Old, Same Old

Chapter 30: Hold Me (Back)

Chapter 31: 1997 It’s So Easy

Chapter 32: Round Two

Chapter 33: 1998 Single White Female

Chapter 34: The One Who Got Away

Chapter 35: 1998 Sláinte

Chapter 36: Happy Families

Chapter 37: 1998 It’s Their Party …

Chapter 38: The Wake-Up Call

Chapter 39: 1998 Fly Away

Chapter 40: Daddy’s Girl

Chapter 41: I Want to Go Home

Chapter 42: 1998 – 2000 Kid in America

Chapter 43: 2000 Head Over Heels

Chapter 44: One Way Ticket

Chapter 45: 2000 Hung Up on You

Chapter 46: Crisis Central

Chapter 47: 2000 The Glory Days

Chapter 48: Mirror, Mirror

Chapter 49: 2003 The Slippery Slope

Chapter 50: No Going Back

Chapter 51: Begin Again

Chapter 52: Dragon’s Den

Chapter 53: Finding Chris

Chapter 54: Finding Ian

Chapter 55: Finding Matthew

Chapter 56: Finding Sean

Chapter 57: Finding Home

Author q&a

Acknowledgements

About the Author

About the Publisher

CHAPTER 1
A Blast From The Past

It was the odd silence that woke her.

Where are the kids?

Hayley tried to burrow back into Sleepland. Fat chance. She’d become too much aware of her tongue that was stuck to the roof of her mouth. It felt like she’d been chewing on a ball of fuzzy felt rolled in a slice of Gouda.

‘Ugh,’ Hayley groaned, her eyes still tightly shut.

She remembered getting a taxi back from Ellen’s but her throbbing head didn’t make sense. They hadn’t had that much wine, surely? Hayley briefly wondered if her best friend felt equally queasy. Then her stomach rumbled, a sure indication of how late it might be.

Breakfast is going to be fun. Serves me right for getting back so late.

Hayley squinted, barely able to make anything out in the dimly lit room. She looked at her old-fashioned Mickey Mouse alarm clock that ticked loudly. Her parents had bought it for her fifteenth birthday as a joke because nothing short of a sledgehammer ever seemed to wake her. She’d used it ever since.

Mickey’s glow-in-the dark gloves showed five minutes to nine.

Where are the kids?

She couldn’t believe they weren’t up yet. It was total bliss that she’d got an extra hour and a half of much-needed sleep. As she rubbed her head again she heard Rick’s gentle breathing next to her. Her husband had always been a quiet sleeper. She was the snorer – he’d even recorded it once on his phone and played a frighteningly realistic warthog impression back to her with a grin on his face.

It’s not like him to be in bed this late on a Saturday morning.

He usually went out for a run and did push-ups at the park while she got the kids up and made breakfast. He reckoned it was the reason he could still eat Fish and Chips and not turn into a lard-arse.

Hayley thought about Rick’s firm legs and trim waist. She briefly considered slipping her hand down his boxer shorts – they hadn’t had morning sex in months, probably years, even – but that pint of water she’d downed just before she left Ellen’s had turned her bladder into a bouncy castle. She was busting for a pee and wanted to move her legs but they felt like lead-filled sausages. Slowly she started to drift off to sleep again.

‘Yougonnagedup? Gedsumbrukfast?’

God, he sounds rough. I bet he’s coming down with a cold. Oh joy. Man-flu alert.

‘In a minute,’ she mumbled, then remembered their row from the night before. At least an eight and a half on the Richter scale of arguments. Maybe even a nine. Bad enough for her to walk out, fleeing to Ellen’s for wine and moral support. It wasn’t the first time she’d speculated if Rick had found someone else. Wondered if he wanted to leave, then wondered if she wanted him to.

She sighed and decided she should take a few steps towards reconciliation. Besides, she had a brief to finish. Washing to do. Costumes to pick up. Parents to see. And with all of that on her list, it was hardly a practical day to put a bullet in her marriage.

Hayley crawled out of bed, eyes barely open, headed for the door and walked straight into a chest of drawers.

‘Ouch.’ She rubbed her leg.

‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ Rick’s voice really was rough.

Hayley opened her eyes properly to take in her surroundings.

Hang on a second.

The bedroom seemed smaller than usual. The window was in the wrong place, surely, and she felt carpet under her feet, not hardwood floor. Instead of the door being straight ahead she could make it out to her left. Pictures hung above the chest of drawers. She squinted at them, but couldn’t see them properly in the dark room.

It all had a certain familiarity about it that she couldn’t quite place.

God, we must have got completely trolleyed. But why can’t I remember?

Hayley grabbed hold of the chest of drawers to steady herself and knocked over a vase.

‘I’m trying to sleep, keep it down.’

An alarm bell went off in Hayley’s throbbing head. She spun round faster than she intended, lost her balance and landed on the floor on her bum.

‘Ow. Fuck it,’ she said loudly.

‘What are you doing?’

Hayley popped her head up, quickly brushed her brown hair away from her face, and gasped. The person she’d thought was Rick now sat up in bed, staring down at her. She shook her head and quickly rubbed her eyes. Despite the dim light there was no mistaking him.

No … No way … It can’t be.

‘What are you playing at?’ he said. ‘I didn’t get to sleep until four.’

With wide blue eyes and her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, Hayley stared at the man for so long, she could practically feel the seasons change.

‘Chris?’

Hayley blinked three times thinking that she’d never, ever, cheat on Rick. Never.

And she hadn’t seen Chris – her first boyfriend, her very first love – in over twenty years.

So when … no, how had she ended up in bed with him?

CHAPTER 2
Going Nowhere

The day before Hayley woke up in bed with her ex-boyfriend had been a complete and utter disaster. In fact, things had been sliding downhill before she’d even woken up. Her alarm clock didn’t go off, so she was already thirty minutes behind her impossibly tight schedule when she opened her eyes. While she crept around the house in the dark trying not to wake Rick and the kids, she’d knocked over Pickles’ bowl and squished the cold, jelly-like, not-so-delightful tuna cat treats right up between her toes. And just now at the office, the new intern, Jim, had bumped into her and spilled half a cup of lukewarm tea straight down her white shirt.

‘I-I’m so sorry, Hayley.’ Jim’s eyes almost popped out of his skull.

Hayley watched a blush creep over his chiselled cheekbones. ‘It’s fine,’ she said.

And you’re lucky you’re so flipping cute.

Waving a hand she added, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

She pulled on her shirt, trying to stop the fabric from sticking to her body. Jim apologised again, then made a swift exit, muttering something about papers he needed to file.

Hayley was about to make a dash for the loo to salvage her top when Charles stepped out of his office.

‘Never mind, Hayley,’ he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, and with a smile that looked about as real as market-stall Rolex. ‘Good job that shirt’s polyester.’

‘It’s silk, you pathetic prat,’ she said under her breath.

‘What was that, Hayley?’ Charles gave her a cool stare.

She held his gaze. ‘Not hot, thank goodness for that.’ She made sure her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Instead she balled her fists, clenched her teeth and imagined tackling the bastard to the floor, then grinding his balls into the carpet with her high-heels. One at a time. Slowly. Ignoring his falsetto pleas for mercy. She wasn’t a violent person but for Charles Simpson she’d gladly make an exception. He’d always been a pain but he’d become the biggest dickhead in London since his father Ronald had died the previous year.

Hayley sighed. It wasn’t even nine-thirty, but at least it was Friday.

I should’ve stayed in bed. But I don’t need a duvet day. I need a flaming duvet decade.

‘My office, Hayley,’ Charles said sharply. ‘There have been developments.’

‘Developments?’ Her chest tightened. ‘What developments?’ She followed Charles to his office and closed the door behind them.

He sat down at his desk, crossed his legs and raised his chin. ‘I spoke with Thorsten Berger yesterday evening.’ Tap, tap, tap went his fingers on his mahogany desk. Tap, tap, tap. He sniffed. ‘They’ve decided to go with another law firm.’

Hayley’s eyes widened. ‘What? But the offer I put together it –’

‘Wasn’t good enough.’

‘I’ll call him, I –’

Charles held up a hand. ‘Don’t. He made himself crystal clear. I’ll talk to him again at some point. Maybe I can salvage some future business.’

‘If I speak to him, then maybe –’

‘Leave it, Hayley. You’re not to contact him. That’s an order.’ His icy stare met her eyes. ‘What’s that, the fourth potential client you’ve lost?’ He picked up the phone and gave her a dismissive wave. Head down, she turned and walked out.

‘I already heard the news,’ Tony said in a low voice as he caught up to her and they walked back to her office. ‘Got lectured about how we should have done more.’

‘What did you say?’

‘Told him we’d do better next time, that there are other clients in the pipe.’

‘You should have heard how he spoke to me. The look he gave me.’ She exhaled deeply. ‘We worked on that Berger offer for weeks.’

‘I know.’

‘Sodding Charles. You know he dumped it on me along with four other cases he was supposed to look after?’

‘I know.’

‘I missed Millie’s ballet recital and Danny’s first day in his new class. All for nothing. Nothing. And don’t say I know again.’ She flashed Tony a look.

He nodded. ‘I won’t. But don’t let him get to you.’

‘How? And how are you so calm? He pushes all of my buttons and then some. He’s such a backstabbing, sanctimonious shit.’

Tony chuckled, holding her office door open for her. ‘Amen to that.’

‘And he absolutely hates me’ She pulled out her chair and flopped. ‘Always has.’

‘You can blame Ronald for that. May the good man rest in peace.’ Tony smiled. ‘No one likes a teachers pet.’

‘You like me.’ She crossed her arms and frowned at him.

‘I do now, but it took years.’ Tony grinned and put his hands in his pockets. ‘Don’t ever ask Angela what I said about you the first day we met.’

‘What do you mean? What did you say?’

‘That a right stuck up wannabe solicitor had joined the firm and I never wanted to work with her.’

‘Hey!’ She threw a handful of paperclips at him. ‘Your wife adores me.’

He laughed. ‘She does. I won’t deny it. Look, Charles always hated that you got along with Ronald better than he did. So ignore him.’ He shrugged. ‘Works for me.’

She smiled. ‘Thanks Tony, I’ll try.’

But ignoring their boss had become impossible, so after Tony left Hayley sat at her immaculate desk and fantasised about pushing Charles in front of a dozen runaway photocopiers, squashing him as flat as her enthusiasm. That wasn’t the only thing she daydreamed about these days. Not by a long shot. What if …? It was a game she caught herself playing more often than she’d ever admit. She shook her head.

Stop fantasising and take action, Hayley!

She pulled out her mobile phone and punched in Isamu Lewis’ number.

‘Isamu Lewis.’

Hayley smiled. The pint-sized head-hunter from Ashford DeVille had the voice of an angel and the killer instinct of a Siberian Tiger. If there was a law job up for grabs in London, Isamu knew about it. She’d sent along a number opportunities over the past few months, none that Hayley had seriously wanted to consider. Not until now. But the excuse of better the devil you know was wearing as thin as Miley Cyrus’ underwear. Particularly as the devil was Charles bloody Simpson.

‘Isamu, hi,’ Hayley said, getting up to close the door to her office.

‘Hayley, how are you?’

‘I’ve been getting more excited about the job with Williamson, and I think I –’

‘Yeah, look –’

‘Have you heard back from them yet? I know I said the commute’s longer but I’ll just have to cope. I’ll dance on the bloody desks at lunchtime for all I care. Just tell me there’s a –’

‘Hayley,’ Isamu said sweetly. ‘Will you shut up for a second?’

‘Sorry.’

‘It fell through.’

‘What?’ Hayley’s voice went up a few notches.

Isamu sighed. ‘Just found out the buggers filled the position internally. I was about to call you.’

Hayley drew a sharp breath. ‘Shit! But they … they said …’

Don’t whine. Don’t you dare.

She cleared her throat, let out a small laugh. ‘So, you’re saying I have to continue dancing on the desks here?’

‘Sorry, hon,’ Isamu said. ‘I’ve tried everything but we have to let this one go.’

Hayley swallowed. ‘Got anything else up your sleeve?’

‘Klingel’s are looking.’

‘Forget it,’ Hayley said quickly. ‘They overcharge and under deliver. I’d rather be broke than –’

‘I was joking.’

Hayley puffed out her cheeks. ‘Oh. Phew. Seriously then, what else do you have?’

‘Nothing at the moment,’ Isamu said. ‘But I’ll call you when I do. Let me see what I can find next month, but then everything will slow down over Christmas, probably until at least mid-January. Okay?’

‘Understood. Let me know if anything comes up. Okay? Anything.’

‘Absolutely. We’ll get you sorted. Got to go. Sit tight for a few months. Bye.’ Isamu hung up.

Sit tight? Here?

‘Oh come on!’ She smacked her palm on the table. ‘I’ve lost the job and another client. Fucking hell!’

She sank into her chair and picked up a photograph of Rick, Millie and Danny. She’d taken it more than two years ago. They’d spent a week at the beach in Cornwall, flying kites and eating wickedly delicious mint-choc-chip ice-cream, running barefoot in the warm sand before flopping down and watching the sunlight dance on the waves. They hadn’t had a family holiday since.

Hayley looked at the photo in its porcelain frame and gently touched the green and red splodges of colour Millie’s little fingers had applied to the Mother’s Day present. She’d been so happy during that week in Cornwall. In love with her husband, with her children, with her life.

Since then I’ve become a permanent customer of Shitty Days R Us.

She sighed again, shook her head and picked up a file, ready to get to work for a client. Before she started reading her notes, she doodled Charles’ face on a yellow Post-it note and wrote ARSE underneath with thick red pen.

*

The moon was high in the sky before Hayley decided she’d better pack up her things – including work she had to do over the weekend – and head home. The air outside was cool, yet she sucked in a big lungful, hoping the damp fog would somehow have a calming effect on her. It didn’t, so she hurried down the street on the way to the tube station, her mind racing and her hands clammy. She’d hoped she’d be rushing back to share good news with Rick, that she’d brought on a new client, finally had some success at work again. They could have done with something positive, maybe they’d even have celebrated a little. Instead she’d be spending the weekend looking for a new job.

Her mobile phone rang and she fished it out of her coat pocket, her steps barely slowing.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Hayley said. At times she even surprised herself at how upbeat she could force herself to sound.

‘Hello, love. How are you? I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing. I called home but Rick said you weren’t back yet. You’re working late again. Are you okay?’

Hayley plastered a smile on her face and crossed her fingers. ‘Just on my way home. I’m fine.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. How’s Dad?’

‘We’ve had a good day today.’ Tenderness filled her mother’s voice. ‘He’s asleep now.’

‘That’s good. Mum. What about the new medicine? Any difference?’

‘No love. Even if it does help, it won’t be that quick.’

‘Not even a tiny bit?’

‘No. But it’s still early. The doctor said it takes time.’

Hayley cleared her throat as she walked down the steps to the station. ‘And you, Mum? Are you okay?’

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘As good as I can be.’ Her mother sighed. ‘But I was calling to check up on you. Will we see you all this weekend?’

Hayley closed her eyes. ‘I’m not sure yet. I’ll try.’

‘We’d love to see you, if you can.’

‘So would we. I’ll do my best, Mum.’ Hayley’s phone crackled. ‘I’m losing the connection. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

‘Okay. Thanks, lo–’ The line went dead.

As Hayley slipped her mobile into her pocket she pictured her father, the once strong and active man now reliant on others for physical and financial help, confined to a wheelchair.

If only I’d been there.

Rick said she shouldn’t blame herself and she knew he was probably right. But she couldn’t stop herself from wondering. Could she have done something? Would she have recognised the signs? She’d seen the F.A.S.T. adverts – Face, Arms, Speech, Time – so often. What if she’d been there?

What if?

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

I bet Dad would tell me how much he hates all the fuss.

Hayley smiled, genuinely this time.

And he’d have told me to sod off when we paid to make their house wheelchair accessible.

As the train arrived and started to slow down she stared at her moving reflection in the window and her smile disappeared. She felt much older than forty-two. Her face looked drawn, with bags under her eyes like overstuffed suitcases, and, thanks to the humidity, her long, brown hair had morphed into a shapeless, frizzy disaster. She got on the train, found a seat then fished an elastic band out of her bag and tried to smooth her hair into a ponytail.

I look like I’m auditioning for The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Her stomach lurched as she thought about looking for a job again. She knew all too well how hard it could be.

Especially when we’ve got two sets of finances to worry about.

Hayley looked down. The headline of a discarded copy of Metro on the seat next to her caught her eye: KLINGEL’S TO REPRESENT BOOTS BORRELLO.

Everybody had heard of Carmine Benedetto Borrello. The press dubbed him ‘Concrete Boots’ because no evidence tying him to any crimes had ever been found. Hayley put the paper back on the seat beside her.

Maybe I should go over to the dark side. I’d probably make more money.

She shuddered. Mergers and acquisitions might not be the sexiest area in law, but at least she’d never wake up next to a horse’s head.

It was gone eight o’clock when she arrived at their compact, terraced house in Chiswick. Although she’d attempted to run almost all the way home from Stamford Brook tube station in her heels, she knew that Millie and Danny would already be fast asleep. A pang of regret hit and her guilty conscience tut-tutted for good measure. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been home for a family supper during the week. Balancing everything – work, children, husband, parents, finances and household – was pushing her to the breaking point. Rick always said she should look after herself.

Well, duh. But when?

Even before she’d contacted Isamu, Rick kept asking Hayley why she didn’t tell Charles to shove his job up his backside.

Easy for him to say, most of the financial responsibilities are on me now.

She knew that was unfair, so she never said it out loud, but it didn’t stop the thought bubbling under the surface.

Hayley quietly opened the front door and walked into the hall. Rick sat at the kitchen table reading the paper, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and a glass of red wine in front of him. He glanced up, folded the paper and smiled at her. Hayley noticed how relaxed he looked and, inexplicably, it annoyed her. She’d always loved his easy-going, laissez-faire attitude, felt it kept her grounded, but now she often wanted to give Rick a shake. Instead she gave him a small wave, dumped her heavy bag on the floor, hung up her damp coat, took off her shoes and crept upstairs.

Millie was fast asleep, curled up in a ball with Jelly-Belly, her favourite teddy with the big gut and green eyes. Pickles purred and stretched at the foot of the bed. Hayley tickled him behind the ear, then smoothed down Millie’s auburn hair and kissed her cheek.

‘Sweet dreams, darling.’

Millie murmured something incomprehensible and Hayley smiled. Very quietly she snuck out of the bedroom and into Danny’s room. He lay higgledy-piggledy in his bed, arms flung out like a starfish, his dinosaur pyjama-top halfway up his belly. Hayley covered him with his SpongeBob SquarePants duvet and kissed him. She lingered at the doorway.

I should have ‘Crap Mum’ tattooed on my forehead.

‘Hey.’ Rick smiled when she walked into the kitchen in a fresh T-shirt. ‘Good day?’ He ran a hand over his stubble and through his greying hair. ‘Did you speak to Isamu?’

‘The job fell through.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Said they’d filled it internally. Isamu reckons I should sit tight for a few months.’

Rick shook his head. ‘Oh fuck, that sucks, big time. I’m sorry. Maybe it’s for the best though – you didn’t seem that keen –’

‘That’s not the point, Rick, I …’ She sighed as she rubbed her face.

He looked at her. ‘You want to talk about it?’

She shook her head.

Rick looked away, then finally said, ‘Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?’

‘No, thanks. Food’s the last thing on my mind right now. But did you get the Halloween costumes?’ Her imaginary pen was poised, ready to check a ‘Done’ box on her virtual to-do list.

‘Oh shit.’ Rick scrunched up his face and snapped his fingers. ‘I knew I should’ve done something else.’

She put her head down and her palms over her eyes. ‘Rick, I put a note on the fridge.’ She looked up and tried a smile which, she imagined, looked more like an unhinged grimace. ‘Never mind. Go tomorrow.’

He shook his head. ‘Sorry love, I can’t. I have to go over the website with the culinary school.’

‘Tomorrow?’

He nodded. ‘I’m seeing them in the morning. The site looks great, even if I do say so myself. I’ll show you later if you like? Anyway, glass of wine? How was the rest of your day?’

‘Utter bollocks. The Berger offer went tits up,’ Hayley said, tears prickling her eyes and she turned away.

Get a grip.

She couldn’t stand crying in front of people, not even Rick. If she lost control she didn’t think she’d ever regain it.

‘Shit.’ Rick’s brow furrowed. ‘What happened?’

‘I don’t know. But now I don’t have a job offer and I’ve lost another client.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m going to get reprimanded. Or fired.’

He snorted. ‘That’s a bit dramatic. There’s no way you’ll get fired.’

‘Rick –’

He waved a hand at her. ‘Charles couldn’t cope without you. Man, I was really looking forward to his reaction when you quit … Something else will come up. You could always tell him to –’

‘Shove it?’ Hayley let out a sarcastic laugh. ‘You’ve said that a hundred times. I can’t quit without a job to go to.’

‘You’ll find something. And you’d be a damn sight happier, that’s for sure.’

‘Would I? How? What would we live on?’ She waved an arm around. ‘Do you want to call Mum and tell her we can’t afford to support them anymore or shall I?’

Rick’s bright blue eyes narrowed. ‘Is that a dig at me again?’

‘What? No. I didn’t mean –’

‘I’m doing the best I can. And we agreed. Remember?’

How could she not? Six months before her dad’s stroke, Rick had come home one evening, pale and red-eyed. ‘They’re wiping out the entire department,’ he said, shaking his head and running his fingers through his greying hair. ‘All one hundred and twenty-six of us.’

He’d applied for jobs and she watched Rick’s confidence take a hit with every rejection letter he received, even more so when he didn’t hear from prospective employers at all.

‘Start the web-design business you’ve always dreamed of,’ she said one night. He protested, said it wouldn’t be fair on her. ‘I’ll support us,’ she replied. ‘Besides, I’ll be a partner soon. You should do it. We’ll manage.’

Now Hayley looked at Rick, took a deep breath. ‘I know what I said, but –’

‘I just don’t get how you can work for that stupid dick,’ Rick said.

Hayley nodded. ‘He’s definitely a dick. But he’s not stupid.’

Rick picked up the newspaper again. ‘All I’m saying is that you need to do something.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Do something? What the bloody hell do you think I’m doing, Rick? I –’

He held up a hand. ‘Maybe you and Tony should go out on your own. Or speak to another recruiter,’ he said, his tone more subdued. ‘Okay? That’s all.’

Hayley knew he could tell she was dangling ten – badly in need of a pedicure – toes over the warpath. That’s why he was backing off; he preferred to leave her alone until she calmed down. It irritated the hell out of her sometimes. Why couldn’t he stand up and fight? Taking a deep breath she walked to the fridge, counting slowly.

1 … 2 … 3 …

‘Do you need me to fold any washing?’ she said.

4 … 5 … 6 …

Rick looked at her and blinked.

7 … 8 … 9 …

‘I didn’t do any laundry. I had to –’

BOOM!

‘Oh come on,’ Hayley shouted. ‘For fuck’s sake. You were at home, why couldn’t you do a couple of loads?’

Rick gestured to her to lower her voice.

‘Don’t shush me,’ Hayley snapped.

‘You’ll wake the kids,’ he said, his jaw tight. ‘Look, I had to finish the website and start a quote for another project. The biggest one I’ve ever had, actually. That was more important than the fucking washing, okay?’

Hayley stared at him.

‘I’m sorry, okay?’ he said. ‘I guess now’s not a good time to tell you the toilet upstairs isn’t working properly as well.’

‘You’re joking?’ She put the wine back and slammed the fridge door. A plastic magnet – the letter O – clattered to the floor, leaving the word HELL behind.

‘Don’t worry,’ Rick said. ‘I remembered to call the plumber. He’s coming tomorrow.’ He held his arms up in mock defence as he sat, weaving his upper body around like a boxer, pretending to get ready to dodge whatever she might throw at him by ducking under the table.

Hayley welcomed his humour like a hairdryer in a bath. ‘I can’t deal with all of this as well,’ she said in a strained whisper. ‘I can’t handle my job and continually remind you to sort stuff out, then spend weekends doing the washing and running errands.’

‘Hayley, listen –’

‘No. You listen. I need to see Mum and Dad. I haven’t been over in two weeks. Oh, and I thought we’d squeeze in some family time. Remember that?’

‘You’re blaming me for the lack of family time?’ Rick raised his eyebrows and Hayley could tell she’d hit a nerve. ‘You spend every goddamn waking hour at that office. We hardly see you.’

‘I’m working.’

‘I know that. But you promise the kids you’ll be back for supper and you rarely are. I get it and don’t worry, I’m okay with it but the kids, they …’ His chair toppled backwards as he stood up and it landed on the floor with a crash. ‘Shit.’

‘You know how much pressure I’m under. I need you to be supportive, Rick.’

He acquiesced. ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about the finances. Look, I’ll help tomorrow, I promise.’ He opened his arms and walked towards her but she moved away.

He sighed.

‘What?’ she said. ‘What was that sigh for?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No, go on.’ Hayley’s hands were on her hips and she raised her chin. ‘What was it for?’

Rick spoke in a low voice and she saw that the anger in his eyes had been replaced with sadness. ‘Every time I … you’ve got this big wall around …’ He waved a hand as his voice tailed off. ‘Forget it. Never mind. What’s the point?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Rick puffed out his cheeks. ‘Nothing.’

She closed her eyes. She knew what he meant.

The distance.

She felt it too. The silence between them took up an increasingly large space, filled with all the things they should be saying to each other, but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, or didn’t dare.

‘We need to talk about us,’ Rick said, barely audibly. ‘Come and sit down.’

Us? What does that mean? Does he want out? Does he want to leave?

The nagging voice in her head wondered. After all, the hours she spent at the office were ridiculous and, even during the small amount of time she spent at home, they often fought. Images of him with another woman three cup sizes bigger and twenty times more beautiful than her, invaded her mind.

Could he have found someone else? Is that why he’s been so distant?

A while ago Hayley would have confronted him but now she preferred to pretend they were on an episode of that cheesy show, The Waltons. Her life was complicated enough.

‘No. I don’t want to talk,’ she said.

‘You never want to talk,’ Rick snapped. ‘Even if you wanted to, you’re never here. At some point we have to –’

‘I said no,’ Hayley shouted. ‘I don’t want to fucking talk, okay? Not now, not tonight.’ She shook her head and turned away, swiftly wiping the tears starting to spill down her cheeks.

Come on. Get a grip.

She grabbed her bag and coat, and slipped on her shoes.

Rick was in the kitchen doorway. ‘You’re leaving?’ She noticed how his tone had hardened. ‘Seriously?’

With one hand on the door handle and without looking back she said, ‘I’m going to Ellen’s. Don’t wait up.’

She closed the door softly behind her and stood on the front step, her heart aching. Hayley missed Rick, she missed them.

What happened to us?

They’d been so close. The perfect couple – everybody had said so and both Rick and Hayley had known so too. Right from the beginning Hayley had been convinced their love was one that would last forever. She could never have imagined being with someone else.

But now …?

For a few seconds she considered going back inside, throwing her arms around him, pulling him tight, allowing him to comfort her and in return, telling him she loved him. But something inside her stopped her and instead she turned and walked away.

CHAPTER 3
Let’s Play Pretend

‘For Pete’s sake, look at you. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Ellen said as she opened the door.

Hayley could rely on her best friend to speak her mind. She pulled a face. ‘Got anything stronger? Arsenic? Cyanide?’

Ellen raised an eyebrow then turned and marched down the hallway to the kitchen, her long blonde hair bouncing along behind her. She pushed up the sleeves of her grey sweatshirt, fished a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and plonked it on the table.

‘Wotcha!’ Mark walked into the kitchen carrying a very sleepy looking, six-year old Morgan. She looked like she’d had a bath and she smelled of strawberries, her damp hair framing her delicate features. Hayley noticed her smooth skin and wished she could make her own as flawless. Morgan gave Hayley a little wave and held out her favourite stuffed toy, a floppy-eared, brown and beige rabbit ingeniously named Bunny. Hayley took Bunny and moved its paws in a wave to Morgan, who giggled.

‘How’s the family?’ Mark asked, putting Morgan down and then straightening up with a slight groan. When he caught Hayley’s look he pulled a face. ‘Uh-oh.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Need a girl’s night in with the wife? I can take my guitar down the pub.’

She shook her head. ‘No, you don’t have to leave. It’s mainly work and …’ She sighed. ‘Rick and I fought again.’ Hayley thought she saw Mark and Ellen exchange a look but Mark turned his back and swiftly got three wine glasses out of the cupboard. He opened the bottle of white and filled the glasses almost to the top, then chucked the cork in the dented stainless-steel bin with a clang.

‘Morgan, I think Hayley needs a cuddle,’ he said.

Morgan obliged, wrapping her arms around her. Hayley squeezed back and kissed the top of her forehead.

‘Let’s go then, Missy,’ Mark said. ‘Time for bed.’

Morgan looked up at Hayley. ‘Will you tuck me in?’

‘I’d love to.’

Morgan clapped her hands as she danced off down the hallway, her feet thud-thudding across the floor, while Hayley followed. Her bedroom had soft pastel curtains and pink walls, a single bed with a white frame and three hearts cut into the headboard. There were Little Miss and Angelina Ballerina books in the bookshelves, and stuffed animals on the floor. Bunny’s fancy daybed, a purple satin covered shoe box, lay on Morgan’s pillow.

Morgan climbed into bed. ‘Night-night. I love you,’ she said as she kissed Hayley on the cheek.

Hayley felt a lump rising in her throat. ‘I love you too. Sleep well, little angel.’ She kissed her, then called Mark and Ellen.

‘So?’ Ellen said as the three of them settled down on the well-worn but wonderfully comfortable blue sofas in the living room. ‘What’s going on?’

Hayley smoothed her hand over the cushion and traced her finger around the old, dried red wine stain that reminded her of Gorbachev’s birthmark. She shook her head. ‘Work is hell. Charles is making my life so miserable. He piles his work onto me and it means I hardly see Rick and the kids. Charles, on the other hand, seems to play an awful lot of golf.’

‘He’s such an arse,’ Mark said, then arched his back and grunted. ‘He really is.’

‘I know.’ Hayley swallowed some wine, enjoying the mild burning sensation in her throat. ‘He blames me whenever anything goes wrong and that seems to be a lot these days. But he’s always clever, I’ll give him that. If I say anything it looks like I’m making excuses, so I take the hit. And,’ she puffed out her cheeks, ‘I didn’t get that other job.’

‘What?’ said Ellen. ‘Why?’

Hayley shrugged. ‘Filled it internally. But that’s not the only problem.’ She explained how the Berger offer had fallen through and her conversation with Charles.

‘Oh bloody hell, Hayley,’ Ellen said.

‘I know damn well he’s trying to push me out, get me to quit and I probably would have if I’d got that job. But now … What if he fires me?’

‘Well, if he does it’s his funeral,’ Ellen said.

‘Let him sack you,’ Mark said as he filled Hayley’s glass back to the top. ‘He’ll beg you to come back when he realises how much shit he’s in. You work harder than anyone in that firm.’

‘It’s not that easy,’ countered Hayley. ‘I’ve lost deals and … he has allies.’

Ellen frowned. ‘Allies? What do you mean?’

Hayley hesitated. ‘I … I haven’t said anything to Rick but … I overheard Charles speaking to Max.’

‘One of the partners?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sounds ominous.’ Mark said.

Hayley nodded. ‘Charles said he didn’t think I was in control of the Berger deal.’ She laughed. ‘Turns out that was true, right? But he said he’d specifically given me the responsibility of getting that client. And it’s true. He did.’ She paused. ‘Anyway … he told Max if the deal collapses, he’ll be recommending severe consequences for me.’

‘Hang on a second,’ Mark said. ‘Severe consequences? After all you’ve done there?’

Hayley looked down. ‘Like I said, I’ve lost deals lately.’

‘Please tell me Max defended you?’ Ellen said.

Hayley shrugged. ‘Kind of, I suppose. Said something about my work always being exemplary. Then Charles jumped in and told him he’s seen it happen before.’

‘What?’ Mark said.

Hayley exhaled. ‘Solicitors losing their edge. The killer instinct disappearing.’ She bit her lip before continuing. ‘Charles has, and I quote, a number of contacts he could replace me with.’ She took a gulp of wine. ‘Practically guaranteed there wouldn’t be any disruption.’

‘The little fucker,’ Ellen said.

Hayley shuddered. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve always been so diligent, you know? They don’t call me Hawk-Eye Hayley for nothing.’ She paused. ‘I know there’ll be paperwork and reprimands before I’m fired, but … I … I just can’t face any of that right now.’

‘Charles really is a shit,’ Mark said. ‘Is there anything you can do?’

‘Other than leave?’ Hayley shrugged and drained her glass, then sighed. ‘He’s making my life a misery and I’m turning into a bitch. I’m no fun to be around. Rick said something about a big project he’s bidding on and what did I do? Bit his head off, that’s what. We got into an argument about Halloween costumes and the washing.’

‘Uh-oh,’ said Mark.

‘I know. I’m pathetic.’

‘That’s not fair and –’ Ellen said.

Hayley cut her off. ‘It is. I’ve morphed into a whining git who doesn’t have time for anybody and –’ She threw a hand up into the air. ‘You see? I’m whinging again. Mind you,’ she said, ‘it wouldn’t hurt if Rick could remember to get stuff done around the house.’

Ellen nodded silently.

‘A conversation might not be a bad idea,’ Mark said.

Hayley laughed. ‘Rick said something about me having,’ she made air quotation marks ‘a wall around myself.’ She saw Ellen and Mark’s faces. ‘What? You agree?’

Ellen looked down and fiddled with her watch, avoiding eye contact. Hayley recognised the stalling manoeuvre instantly.

Mark took the lead. ‘Look, when I saw Rick last week he told me things were a bit, uh, tense.’ Hayley started to protest but Mark continued. ‘And Ellen said you withdraw when you’re unhappy, didn’t you?’ Hayley saw Ellen shoot him her very best ‘shut up or die’ stare but Mark didn’t seem to notice and opened his mouth to continue.

‘What Mark is trying to say,’ Ellen said loudly, putting a hand on his thigh, ‘is that you don’t talk as much as you used to and perhaps you should.’

Hayley felt her shoulders stiffen. Rick had spoken to Mark about their problems behind her back? The double standard wasn’t lost on her – because here she was, talking to them.

They were my bloody sodding friends first.

She ignored how childish it sounded in her head. What else had Rick told them? That they hadn’t had sex in three months? As she felt the heat rising to her face, Hayley changed the subject clumsily, not caring how obvious it appeared.

‘Will you cut my hair Ellen, please, I’m desperate. What do you think about colouring it? Would chestnut look good?’

Ellen took the bait. ‘Maybe more of a golden brown? It’ll brighten your skin.’

‘And will you do mine too, honey?’ Mark said in a high voice. ‘I hear highlights are all the rage again.’

Ellen laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Shush, you.’

‘And work’s okay?’ Hayley said, trying to keep the focus on Ellen. ‘Still enjoying it?’

‘Love it. Although this week? Completely nuts. I’m so glad my boss gave me the weekend off. I’m knackered.’

‘And you?’ She looked at Mark.

‘Never better,’ he said as he stretched out his arms. ‘I’m living the dream, I am. Selling insurance always was my calling. In fact, I want a T-shirt that says “Insurance agents are premium lovers”.’

Ellen groaned.

Mark laughed. ‘Nah, it’s fine. It pays the bills.’

‘How’s your dad?’ Ellen asked. ‘Any better?’

Hayley shook her head.

‘It’s only been a year,’ Mark said.

‘I know, but …’ Hayley sighed deeply. ‘He’s not improving anymore, you know?’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll never hear him talk again. He’ll never walk properly again …’

Ellen nodded. ‘I can’t even imagine … How’s your mum?’

‘She copes.’

‘Still writing for that greeting card company?’

‘Yep. And each time I see her in a new light. The stuff she comes up with is disgusting.’ A smile returned to Hayley’s lips. ‘It was a caption for a picture of an old, wrinkly, naked couple the other week. Something about saggy boobs looking like testicles.’

Mark almost choked on his drink. ‘Nice.’

As they drank more wine and the evening passed, Hayley mellowed. The weight of her frustrations lessened to that of a double-decker bus, although she knew another five were waiting to drive back onto her shoulders in the morning.

She stayed far longer than she had intended, but Hayley loved the warmth of Mark and Ellen’s place. It was understated with its flat-pack furniture and well-used sofas, small kitchen and dented wooden floors. Hayley always thought of it as inviting and cosy – just how she used to feel about her own home. She’d lived in the flat with Ellen years ago, before she moved out and Mark moved in, and well before Morgan arrived. They’d had some incredible times there and memories lingered in every room. Good memories.

Shortly before midnight Mark played rock, paper, scissors with Ellen to decide who would get up with Morgan. He lost.

‘Don’t worry, darling,’ Ellen said. ‘I’ll make your favourite apple pie as a consolation prize.’

Mark got up, kissed Ellen on the lips and Hayley on the cheek, then he squeezed Hayley’s hand and said, ‘Talk to Rick, he’s a good bloke.’

Ellen refilled their glasses and flopped back down on the sofa.

‘Alright then,’ she said, propping her head up with one arm. ‘Work is shit and Charles is a fuck-head. But what’s really going on with you and Rick?’

Hayley sighed. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I see you two. You’re still so close …’ Ellen kept quiet and Hayley continued. ‘We fight over stupid stuff. We don’t laugh together anymore. And sex, well,’ she shook her head, ‘not for ages and when we do it feels like a routine. Everything’s a routine. I get up, go to work, go home, work some more, go to bed and start all over again the next day. The weeks blend into each other.’ Hayley clicked her tongue. ‘It’s a phase – I’m in a rut and I don’t how to get out of it.’

‘You’ve been through a lot in a very short time, Hayley, even for you. Is there anything we can do to help? Shall we take the kids for a day so you can talk?’

‘No, but thanks. I’ll be okay. Things will get better. They have to. I can’t imagine going on like this.’ They were both silent for a while until Hayley spoke again, more quietly this time. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Always.’

‘Do you … do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you hadn’t married Mark?’

Ellen frowned and sipped her wine. ‘Not really. I mean, he drives me barmy. After twenty years he still tells me to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You’d think the bugger would have given up by now.’ She grinned and shrugged. ‘Anyway, you know what my grandmother always said.’

‘No, what?’

‘I’ve never considered divorce but I’ve often thought of murder.’ They both laughed. ‘I almost murdered him the other night. He was late and his phone was dead. I’d already planned his funeral and chosen my outfit by the time he’d got home.’

Hayley giggled. ‘You didn’t tell him that, did you?’

‘Course I did. He said if I played “My Heart Will Go On” he’d spin in his coffin and haunt me forever.’ She sniffed. ‘So I told him I’d play “Another One Bites the Dust” instead.’

Hayley laughed. ‘See? You two crack me up.’

‘What can I say? He’s the love of my life. Yeah, there’s a certain routine but it’s stable too.’ She paused. ‘So you’re wondering then, are you? What your life would be like?’

‘Yes, sometimes,’ Hayley answered quietly. ‘Often, these days.’ She’d never actually said it out loud before.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. What if I’d made different choices? Like said yes when Chris proposed? We’d probably have a couple of teenage kids by now, he was so keen. His mum would still hate me.’

‘Yes she would.’ Ellen laughed. ‘The miserable old cow.’

‘Hmm … okay then, what if I’d taken Ian back? I’d be loaded. You and I’d be going on girly weekends to Paris and New York. I’d have more diamond rings and designer kit than Kim Kardashian. Just no sex tape.’

‘Ugh,’ Ellen said. ‘But Ian was a tosser.’

‘True. So what about Matthew? I could have been happy, he was a nice guy.’

‘Yeah, nice. You’d have died of boredom by now,’ Ellen giggled and Hayley burst out laughing.

‘Seriously though,’ Hayley said. ‘Do you know who I wonder about the most?’

Ellen raised an eyebrow and didn’t hesitate. ‘No prizes for guessing. Sean.’

‘Sean,’ Hayley whispered, his name sending a delightful shiver through her body. ‘We’d still be together and we’d be happy. I can’t imagine not being happy with Sean.’ Hayley closed her eyes and conjured up his face, heard his voice with his sexy Irish accent, felt his strong hands holding her, his lips slowly, teasingly, wandering down her stomach towards …

Mmmmh

Ellen coughed loudly.

Hayley opened her eyes and blushed. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one planning my husband’s funeral.’ She looked away. ‘I’m not wishing my life away or anything. Honest I’m not. Really. I’m not.’

‘Sure. But you are romanticising your relationship with Sean. You were only together for a bit when the shit hit the fan. You’d never be as happy as you are with Rick.’

‘Was,’ Hayley muttered before she could stop herself.

‘You still love him, don’t you? Surely you don’t regret marrying him. Rick and the kids are the best thing that ever happened to you.’

‘Of course I love him. And the kids. Of course I do.’ Hayley forced a laugh. ‘I’m tired and a bit pissed. And pissed off. Must be the booze talking.’

‘So have you ever tried to find out what happened to them? Your exes, I mean.’

‘God no. What for?’ Hayley said.

Only on Facebook and LinkedIn and Instagram.

There hadn’t been much. Apparently she’d either gone out with blokes who thought social media was the devil incarnate or their privacy settings were so stringent, it would have been easier to break into the Tower of London. She looked at her watch. ‘Two o’clock. How did that happen? I need to get my sorry arse home. I’ll have some water and call a taxi.’

Rick snored gently when Hayley slipped into bed. She lay there for a while, her eyes getting heavier and her breath slowing. As sleep gradually took over her body, her mind continued to wander.

What if?

There was no harm in imagining what her life could be like.

Was there?

It was her way of escaping reality and routine.

Wasn’t it?

Everybody sometimes wondered ‘what if?’

Didn’t they?

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