Page 7 of The Riviera House Swap
‘What do you mean?’
‘For starters, when you married Rory, you drew up that spreadsheet, do you remember? The pros and cons.’
‘That was a joke, mostly.’
‘And you took that office manager job, didn’t you, in Hamish and Co., because it offered healthcare and a longer-term contract.’
‘And training,’ added Sal.
‘Yes,’ said Bess. ‘Thetraining. You didn’t take that job you really wanted. What was it? As a runner in the TV company – because you wouldn’t be working towards a qualification, and it was a one-month contract, on a temporary basis. Too risky.’
‘Yes, but don’t forget that Hamish and Co. let me do those business exams. Plus they were going to open that French office – I thought I might end up in Paris!’ she protested.
‘True. But then it’s been twelve years since that project bit the dust…’
‘God, that seems like a long time ago,’ said Nina, remembering how torn she’d been at the time. She’d done months of French classes to tune up her language skills – all for nothing. Bitterly disappointed, she’d thought about leaving thefirm to pursue another avenue when they’d told her that Paris was a no-go. But her friends were right – she’d played it safe and simply stayed.
‘And what about when you were going to come interrailing with me, but you chickened out at the last minute?’ Bess said. ‘We were just about to book the tickets and everything.’
‘But you still got to go!’ Nina pointed out. ‘You had a great time.’
‘Exactly. But what did you do?’
‘I just wanted to save up. Get ready for uni…’ Nina trailed off.
‘All we’re saying is, maybe you’re already pretty cautious?’ suggested Bess gently.
‘Plus, you never have given into “fate”. You don’t believe in fate, right? You never have,’ Sal added.
‘Face it, Nina, the only way you could take fewer risks in life is if you decided to move from your ordinary house into a padded cell.’
‘No sharp edges,’ said Sal.
‘No spicy food.’
‘Eating only purée.’
‘Doctor on standby.’
As Nina watched them giggling, she suddenly didn’t feel like joining in. Because they were right, weren’t they? She was forty years old and had played it safe all her life. She hadn’t risked it all with Rory; she’d made a sensible choice to settle with a sensible man (who’d sensibly divorced her when he realised she didn’t fully love him the way he deserved). What if fate did exist? What if it had been trying to get her attention all these years and she’d simply ignored it?
‘You’re right,’ she said, rubbing her eyes with her damp sleeve and smelling an odd mixture of wine and fabric conditioner. She felt her eyes re-fill.
‘Oh, don’t cry,’ Bess said, touching her arm. ‘We were only joking!’
‘Maybe it’s just my fate to be boring, single and miserable.’
‘So now youdobelieve in fate?’
‘Seriously, it’s the drink talking,’ Sal said. ‘I mean, look at us! Me and Bess, I mean. We’re hardly daredevils.’
‘But you’ve done things,’ Nina said. ‘And you’ve both got… I don’t know. Good jobs. Good lives.’
Sal wrinkled her nose. ‘Hate to rain on your parade,’ she said. ‘But I’m a single mum. That’s hardly winning the life lottery. At least on paper. And I work two jobs.’
‘Two jobs?’ Nina knew that Sal worked part-time as a teaching assistant, but had thought that was it.
‘Didn’t I tell you? You are looking at the latest St Albans Roman Theatre guide. It’s only once a week, but I have to dress up in full Roman garb.’
