these days? What did that mean, anyway?
She thought about her friend, Kate – the only person she knew who stood a chance of having it all. In a year’s time, barring disasters, she would be a partner at TDS. She would continue to churn through men, keeping an eye out for husband material and then once she decided on ‘the one’, she would engineer a proposal and a year later, they’d be married with their first kid on the way. Knowing Kate, she probably had it all mapped out in an Excel spreadsheet.
It wasn’t so simple for Alexa. At least, it didn’t feel simple. Matt was the only man she had been with for more than a couple of months and every day, she felt privileged to still be with him. She couldn’t pick and choose like Kate. Ironically, from her mother’s perspective, Alexa had become so afraid of failure that she found it almost impossible to focus on anything other than upcoming challenges in the workplace. She tried to loosen up when it came to relationships, but it wasn’t something that came naturally.
Alexa breathed deeply and exhaled, slowly. She felt calmer now; the shaking had subsided. Rising to her feet, she studied her face in the mirror. The sun had brought out the freckles on her cheeks and her eyes looked paler in comparison. She watched as her reflection started to smile back at her. She was ready to face the world again.
The scene to which she returned was unexpected. It was as though she had turned up at somebody else’s party. Matt and her father were chatting happily by the barbecue, her father threading kebab meat onto skewers while Matt turned the slabs of steak, and her mother was flitting from kitchen to garden, humming as she arranged the salads.
‘Can I help?’ Alexa asked lamely.
The men were lost in conversation and didn’t reply. Her mother stood for a moment, appraising her handiwork on the table. Then she turned, as if suddenly remembering something.
‘Yes – yes, you can. Come and fetch a couple of things from the kitchen, will you?’
Alexa was familiar enough with her mother’s tricks to know that there was no urgent barbecue-related mission awaiting her in the kitchen. She trampled inside, wondering which of her mother’s lectures she was about to hear. On the plus side, she thought, at least by being alone together in the kitchen, there might be an opportunity to tell her mother about the job.
‘So!’ Alexa’s mother pressed the kitchen door shut behind them ‘Oh, Alexa, you’re stooping.’
Alexa straightened up, pushing a wisp of fringe out of her eyes. It was a criticism she had heard so many times, over the years. She tried so hard to be proud of her looks – all five foot ten of them – but too often, it just felt more comfortable to be at eye level with others. Not that that was an argument worth having with her mother.
‘I just wanted to say,’ her mother began, in a whisper that equated to anyone else’s normal speaking volume, ‘I think Matthew is wonderful. So does your father. He gave me the nod, just now.’
‘Good. I’m glad you think so.’ Alexa smiled hesitantly. The nod. It was as though Matt had come under scrutiny by virtue of his association with her. ‘I think he is, too.’
She waited with trepidation as her mother continued to wring her hands.
‘And . . . well, I just want to say . . . try to make time for him, won’t you? I know what you’re like, always rushing around, working all hours . . .’
Alexa frowned. She couldn’t quite believe these words were coming out of her mother’s mouth. Make time? Time? Coming from the person who believed that productivity was the ultimate goal, that life was all about using time efficiently?
Alexa found herself nodding, too stunned to object. ‘He seems like a perfect match,’ her mother went on. ‘Obviously very ambitious.’
Alexa nodded again. The hypocrisy was astounding. What did they want from her? Was ambition seen as a good thing or not? Throughout all of her life so far, Alexa had been working on the assumption that ambition was good – that it was an essential ingredient of a fulfilling life. Matt’s ambition was being lauded and yet, here was her mother, effectively telling Alexa to take her foot off the gas and to ‘make time’. Making time meant borrowing it from other activities, of course. There was only a finite number of hours in the day and Alexa’s waking ones were already filled – her mother had made sure of that. So what exactly was her mother trying to say?
‘You’re coming to the end of your contract at the magazine now, aren’t you? Perhaps you can take it a bit easier for a few months?’
Through the blur of confusion, Alexa spotted an opportunity.
‘Actually, my contract has—’
‘Have we got any more peppers?’ Her father appeared in the doorway. ‘Just need a half or so for the last kebab.’
‘Try the bottom of the fridge.’ Alexa’s mum moved over to the sink and started scrubbing a burnt pan – a good use of six seconds, thought Alexa, watching in annoyance.
‘Alexa, don’t leave your guest out there on his own. Go on – you go and entertain Matthew. We’ll sort out the food.’
Alexa toyed with the idea of telling them now, both at once, but it didn’t feel right. Her mother would overreact, she would get angry again and her dad wouldn’t know how to respond, and all the while Matt would be outside on his own.
‘Oh, Alexa?’ Her mother called out as she made her escape. ‘I meant to ask. You remember Lara Fielding, don’t you? The little girl you used to babysit, from the village?’
‘You mean the spoilt brat who would only eat food that was pink?’
‘Well, yes. I’m sure she’s grown out of that now. I was talking to Janice the other day and she mentioned that Lara has just finished a Media Studies degree and is looking for work! So, naturally, I said that you might be able to put in a good word with the ladies at Hers.’
Alexa sighed. She wouldn’t inflict Lara Fielding on anyone – especially not her friends on the third floor.
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Matt raised an eyebrow as she re-emerged.
She shook her head. ‘Got interrupted.’
He looked unimpressed.
‘I will tell them,’ she said, ‘just—’
‘Tell who what?’ her mother asked breezily, reappearing with a bowl of chopped peppers.
‘Oh.’ Alexa panicked. ‘Just . . .’ She couldn’t say it. Not yet.
‘Alexa has some news,’ Matt said, unhelpfully.
‘I . . .’ Alexa said the line in her head, but she kept getting stuck on the word Banter. ‘I have a new job,’ she managed.
‘Do you?’ cooed her mother.
‘Do you?’ her dad echoed.
‘Yes.’ She pressed on. ‘It’s a managing director role, a bit like my last one, but for a men’s title.’
‘Oh! Congratulations!’
