Page 65

Ava pulls a face. ‘Me? You think I’d be attracted to Dan? Urgh. Fuck no. I’d never do that to you. Not even if it was one of the Ryans. As soon as I found out he was cheating on you, I managed him out without a single penny. Same with Pippa.’ Ava stares at me. ‘Didn’t I tell you? I caught them together at the celebration lunch. Which I did invite you to by the way, but Pippa told me you didn’t want to come. Now I know why. She wanted you out of the way. I’m sure I messaged you.’

‘No.’ My mind is all over the place. ‘I didn’t get it.’ Because I deleted your number. I suppose I did just assume the worst. And no wonder that Pippa or Dan didn’t reply to any of my texts after we had all left work.

I watch as Ava processes this. ‘Everything happened so fast that day. Some prick from an international company took charge. Sacking Dan and Pippa was literally the only decision they allowed me to make. I wasn’t in control of any of it. Even the computer hacking to get evidence against Pippa. I had no idea they would use it against you too. Especially not to make you redundant. I’d never do that. Sorry, Nelly-Belly. I thought I had told you. But then it was a bit of a nightmare time for me.’

I suppose it was, now I come to think about it. And all this time she was saving me from Dickhead Dan. I’m not sure what to say. My whole world has just been turned upside down again. Or maybe the right way up.

‘So, MJ,’ my sister says as though this isn’t a huge, life-changing deal for me. ‘Are there any good clubs we can go to near here?’

‘Benidorm?’ Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen says, her eyes sparkling brightly.

Over my dead body. There’s no way I am going to Benidorm. I need to process this miraculous piece of information.

I need to meditate.

I need to make peace with myself.

I need to heal.

I need to reflect on the somewhat unnecessary psychological damage I have inflicted on myself and those around me.

26

A mere three hours later, I find myself shoulder deep in a half-soaked, scary-eyebrowed hen party. Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen has suddenly become best friends with this group of women even though she has no idea what any of them are talking about.

‘Where is this place called Saff-landan these chickens are from?’ she is asking. I quickly translate for her, explaining it is more generally referred to as South London, and that these squawky women are hens not chickens, but she keeps flapping her elbows and clucking. She is clearly not listening to me as usual, but the Hens are finding her terribly amusing. They are quick to plonk a pink satin sash and some pink, fluffy deely-boppers on her head to take her under their wing and claim her as their own. They are also tremendously full-lipped and heavily made-up, like pantomime dames, which seems to be having a powerful effect on the menfolk around them. It is making it impossible to hear what Ava is shouting above the music and spontaneous bursts of squealing.

‘How could you not tell me, though?’ I ask her again. We have had this same conversation on a bit of a drunken loop, but it is taking a while to sink in.

It could have saved me weeks’ worth of emotional pain and could have avoided an embarrassing amount of unsolicited whinging.

‘I texted you, like, a billion times!’ she yells at me. ‘Did you not get any of my messages? What about all of those posts on my grid?’

Shite. I decide not to tell her that I blocked her number. The realisation that this could all be as much my fault as hers has me in an immediate spin.

I’m a fool.

A complete fucking idiot.

A terrible sister.

An awful human being.

‘Wait. Did you unfollow me?’ she gasps.

And the rest.

‘So, all this time you thought I deliberately made you redundant? That I gave all those emails to Karen as evidence against you?’ Her hands fly to the sides of her head, just like Geoff – I mean Jiff. ‘Oh my fucking God. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you thought I was having an affair with Dickhead Dan.’ She makes vomiting noises.

I gulp. When she puts it like that it sounds… well, it sounds… a lot like I’m the dickhead.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say.

‘Me too,’ Ava says, flinging her arms around me. ‘I should have been there for you when it all kicked off. Instead of making assumptions and being bossed about by Karen and some faceless prick they brought in to fire everyone.’

‘Let’s try to forget about it for tonight.’ I desperately need to process this properly, with the help of some pebbles or a babbling brook or even some throat singing. ‘We’ll circle back to it in the morning.’

‘Great idea,’ Ava says. ‘Let’s get shitfaced!’