Page 11 of Never Gonna Happen

‘It was a nightmare. The shops are already playing wall-to-wall festive shit. And my mum was absolutely on one, trying to get me to buy really bright colours.’

‘What’s wrong with bright colours?’ Kelly was wearing purple dungarees and a green T-shirt that made her look like Barney the Dinosaur. While Emily was tall and flat-chested, Kelly was the exact opposite – petite with elfin features and enormous boobs.

‘Drawing attention to myself isn’t part of the job description,’ Emily muttered. It sounded ridiculous, but it was true. Good PAs were like wallpaper; they blended in.

‘Pah,’ said Kelly dismissively. ‘Have you looked in the mirror lately?’

Emily wafted her away. ‘Anyway, I’ve now got clothes and shoes and towels and stuff, and a new suitcase. And a new haircut.’ She tossed her head, enjoying the feeling of her hair swinging like a glossy curtain.

‘I hate you,’ grumbled Kelly, wrinkling her adorable nose. ‘I’m so jealous.’

A waiter arrived with their food and dumped it on the table. Kelly immediately drowned her definitely-not-vegetarian chicken in half a bottle of garlic sauce, then attacked it like a woman who hadn’t eaten since Beth’s leftover Cheerios for breakfast. Emily watched her for a second, then reached for the bottle. It wasn’t like she was planning to snog anyone any time soon.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Emily wondering why anyone would go to a fancy restaurant when they could have this instead. ‘It’s going to be hard work though, Kel,’ she said eventually through a mouthful of chicken pitta. ‘Could be long hours. And probably pretty boring in the evenings.’

‘What, all alone with your feet up in your rent-free room?’ said Kelly sarcastically. ‘Instead of wrestling a four-year-old into bed after a long day on your feet? Honestly, my heart bleeds.’

‘Yeah, OK. Sorry.’

‘When are you back next?’ asked Kelly, mopping sauce off her face with a paper napkin.

‘Not sure. A few weeks, I should think. I want to get settled in first.’

‘Maybe you’ll get swept off your feet by a rich neighbour. The guy in London is all finished, right?’

Emily nodded glumly. ‘Yeah. Went back to his wife.’

‘They always do, mate,’ sighed Kelly with the weary perspicacity of a woman who had been round the block several times in her twenty-nine years. ‘Let’s cross our fingers for single, rich and undamaged.’

‘I’m completely off men for a while,’ said Emily. The memory of Jamie’s twinkly eyes and warm handshake popped into her head. Not for the first time in the past two weeks. Or today, for that matter. Considering her vow of singledom, it was actually incredibly inconvenient.

Kelly put her knife and fork down and blew out her cheeks. ‘I could eat that all over again.’

Emily’s phone buzzed and she picked it up: her mum had posted a message in capital letters on the family WhatsApp group.

‘Looks like my car has arrived.’

‘Do you need to go?’ asked Kelly, looking slightly bereft.

Emily smiled at her best friend, her heart as full as her stomach. ‘Not until we’ve had a custard tart.’

Carol had clearly been watching from the upstairs window, waiting to spot her daughter walking home from the bus stop. By the time Emily was halfway down the street, her mum was already waiting outside the house in her slippers, bouncing from foot to foot like she needed the loo.

‘Look at it, Moo!’ she squealed. ‘It’s brand new! Your dad’s already had a peek and it’s only got sixteen miles on the clock. A man from the garage in town dropped it off. Dad signed for it for you.’

Emily circled the car, peering in through the window. A black VW Polo with grey patterned seats. Automatic, by the looks of it.

‘Look at you, not even thirty and you’ve got a company car,’ said Carol. ‘I’ve already taken a picture and sent it to your brothers.’

‘I know, Mum. We’re all on the same WhatsApp group. I was in Nando’s with Kelly.’

Carol’s eyes lit up. ‘Ooh, did you bring me a custard tart? Your hair looks lovely.’

Emily fished a paper bag out of her handbag. ‘One for Dad too.’

‘You’re an angel. You got a package in the post too, I put it on your bed. Are you going to take the car for a spin? Are you even insured yet?’

Emily nodded. ‘They sent me all the details last week.’