Millie was still in shock that she’d agreed, but having El there calmed her nerves. El knew how hard this stuff was for Millie. But despite even El’s help, Millie knew after the first hour that this was not going to work. She had no idea what to say to these women. The way conversation flowed effortlessly between them was a complete mystery to her. For so long she had weighed and measured every word she said against possible consequences and interpretations. So whilst the chatter filled the room she stayed silent, her hands sifting through Beauty’s fur (and eliciting deeply satisfied snorts).
‘I’m giving him a chance, okay? He’s not all bad. Sometimes he can be really sweet,’ Tara told everyone whilst she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass.
‘He beat you!’ Claire said, and the room fell silent as Tara glared across at her. ‘How can you take him back? You should –’ Millie snapped out of her frozen cocoon and for a moment she forgot herself.
‘This man, he … hephysicallyassaulted you?’ Millie asked, surprising herself, but she was so shocked it just slipped out. Five sets of wide eyes swung to her.
Tara blinked. ‘Well … it was only the once and he just slapped my –’
‘He put his hands on you in violence?’
‘I guess, but he’s changed now so –’
‘A study in America showed that 62 per cent of domestic violence offenders reoffend within two years.’
‘Well –’
‘And those were only the ones who were arrested, the actual figures are thought to be much higher.’
‘Look,’ Tara snapped, her face flooding with colour. ‘Youmight be able to get a nice bloke with your fancy worthwhile job and your perfect little outfits, but the likes of me –’
‘I haveneverhad a … “bloke”,’ Millie put in, and Tara’s mouth snapped shut. ‘I have never been in any sort of relationship. My “perfect outfits” are all chosen for me by Eleanor who is my personal shopper and whom I have dragged along here tonight as she is the closest thing I have to a friend – apart from Don, but he’s in the wrong age group and gender for tonight. Anwar’s my therapist so he doesn’t count either.
‘And by stating that my job is “worthwhile” you are implying that your own is not. I would question this hypothesis. I perform a function at work and I get reimbursed for my time; you do the same. We both pay tax, we both contribute to society; both of our roles are vital to the people who rely on them. You could argue that your role in society is even more valuable than mine in fact. I am paid by the state to work in the state-funded NHS. You are working for a business and encourage people to spend money in that establishment, thus stimulating the economy and improving the country for everyone. I presume there are also foreigners attending the club?’
‘Well … yes, of course. We get the Russians, the Japanese, the Yanks …’
‘Even better. You are bringing foreign investment into the UK. The tax you pay is out of the profits of the business; the tax I pay is money that hasalreadybeen collected in tax to fund the NHS. In the grand scheme of things you are helping this country to recover from the economic downturn and in turn aiding the world’s recovery. I … am not.’
Tara’s mouth dropped open and she blinked again. ‘I … well, I’ve never thought about it that way.’
‘No,’ Millie said, tilting her head to the side as she looked at Tara. ‘You have not, which has probably contributed to your lack of self-esteem.’
‘What makes you think I have low self-esteem?’
‘It is the only reason you would believe that it is acceptable for an incredibly beautiful woman and a valuable member of society such as yourself to align herself with a genetically deficient male.’
‘Oh.’ Tara sat back in her chair and puffed out a breath. Everyone’s mouths were open now and they were all staring at Millie. She began to feel uncomfortable and shifted in her chair whilst her hands tightened and her nails started digging into her palms. She had a feeling that this was one of the many times she had missed some sort of social cue and inadvertently offended someone.
‘I think I love you, uptight lady,’ Claire declared into the room, her face lighting with a wide smile.
‘Right on, sister,’ Kira put in, her fisted hand punching the air.
‘Well said, Millie,’ Libby murmured in her ear, and squeezed her arm.
‘You didn’t drag me here,’ El told her, a frown marring her expression. ‘I wanted to come and I’m honoured you consider me a friend, right?’
‘Oh,’ Millie blinked and for the first time in the longest while her face broke into a very small spontaneous smile without having to force it.
‘Woah,’ breathed Tara. ‘Chicky, you need to do that more. You look about ten times prettier and super-young.’
‘How oldareyou, Millie?’ Kira asked. This was the first time Kira had ever used Millie’s Christian name.
‘Uh …’ Millie, even with her social dysfunction, knew that this was not an altogether polite question, but then she suspected that if Kira wanted to know something she just plain asked, polite or not.
‘Ki-Ki, you are so bloody rude,’ Libby snapped, confirming Millie’s suspicion. ‘You don’t have to answer that, honey.’
‘It’s okay,’ Millie told Libby – straight honest questions she could deal with. ‘I’m twenty-six.’
