Page 82 of Be More Capybara

‘I’m not sure.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘You don’t sound like you’re from here originally?’

‘No, I grew up in Devon.’

‘And you used to work here?’

‘For over twenty years.’

‘You must’ve liked it then.’

‘I guess. I fell into it really, and then it was difficult to escape.’

‘Escape? That doesn’t sound good.’

Nigel thought for a moment. ‘I was about to say that was an exaggeration, but I don’t think it was.’

‘Are you happier now you’ve escaped?’

‘Yes. I’m me again.’ He surprised himself by saying that out loud, but it was true. The Nigel who hung out with Helen was the person he’d always been inside.

The woman was staring into her drink now. ‘That’s what I’m worried about. It’s a marvellous opportunity, but I’m not sure it’s me. I live in Manchester, so I’m used to city life, but New York doesn’t feel like home somehow. That’s why I spoke to you. I heard you talking to the barman and your accent made me feel better. Does that sound pathetic?’

He smiled. ‘No. Trust your gut instinct. I wish I had.’

He knocked back the rest of his cocktail and got off the stool. ‘But whatever you decide to do, it’s not always final. Life has a habit of giving you a second chance if you get it wrong.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Good luck,’ he said as he headed back towards the elevator lobby.

63

NIGEL

Nigel and his divorce attorney, Chris, were sitting in the offices of the most expensive legal firm in town - only the best for Madison. A smartly dressed woman stuck her head out of the conference room door.

‘Chris. Good to see you,’ she said.

‘Veronica,’ Nigel’s attorney replied.

‘Come in. Everything’s set.’ She disappeared back into the room.

Nigel straightened his tie.

‘Ready?’ Chris asked.

‘As I’ll ever be.’

He was eager to get this over and done with. He’d seen far too much of corporate offices this week. He’d much rather be back in Devon. Being grilled by Mary in the beach cafe would be a doddle compared to this.

Chris opened the door for him. Nigel walked into the conference room and stood stock still. Madison was sitting halfway along the mahogany table that dominated the room. ‘Why didn’t you warn me she’d be here?’ he hissed at Chris.

‘I didn’t know she would be.’

Veronica was next to Madison, and another woman was sitting at the end of the table, a stenotype machine in front of her - the court reporter, presumably.

Madison kept her eyes firmly on the notepad in front of her. How bloody dare she! It was one thing ignoring him when they were on opposite sides of the Atlantic, but he wasn’t going to put up with it in person.

‘Why are you here, Madison?’