When I got back home after taking Evie to school, I made a coffee and sat drinking it in the kitchen, waiting for my mood to stabilise. I had that horrible feeling again. It was hard to explain it, but suffice to say it was a powerful feeling that something awful was about to happen, although I knew that was hardly rational. Enough awful things had happened already to last me a whole lifetime.

I ought to be feeling hopeful. Surely things were looking up. With any luck, Evie would settle into school, and I’d landed a job way before I could’ve reasonably expected to. Yet even though I knew I’d be able to cope easily with the duties at Gregory’s, bearing in mind my previous experience, my hands began to tremble when I imagined myself walking in there this afternoon. The new girl all over again at thirty-five years of age.

Evie was just five years old. Why was I even remotely surprised she was having teething problems at St Saviour’s? My daughter had a good excuse; I had none. I was all grown up and had to take whatever life threw at me.

Tara had included a telephone number and email address in her recent letter. I could call her. I used to enjoy our chats; she was always so pragmatic and sensible, I remember she had this knack of calming me down.

And then I remembered the recent bad news about her health. There’s no way I could ring, burdening her with my silly little problems in comparison. I would call her soon, but I wouldn’t be bleating about how hard my life was.

Slowly these thoughts began to drift and one image filled my mind. That of a little brown bottle.

I placed my mug down on the table and stood up. As I climbed the stairs I thought about one little tablet and the tremendous power held within it. It would relax me but there was a risk it would make me overly sleepy, too. Half a tablet would be just perfect. Half a tablet still had the power to calm me down, making me appear confident and relaxed on the first day in my new job, when I most needed it.

Bryony James, my new line manager, hadn’t seemed overly impressed with me at the interview. I wanted to put that right, but the way I was feeling at the moment, I doubted she was going to get the impression I would turn out to be any kind of asset to the team.

I opened the bathroom cabinet and scrabbled my fingers towards the back of the shelf, pushing through the half-filled packs and boxes of various toiletries. I plucked out the bottle and cradled it in my hand, like it was something precious I was afraid of crushing.

The bottle was about half full of tablets. I hadn’t taken one for two days.

If I was honest with myself, one of the reasons I’d delayed moving house for so long was because I was afraid it would affect my ability to continue collecting Andrew’s repeat prescriptions. I had managed to collect an extra month’s supply of the sedatives by pretending we were all going on holiday. Me, Andrew and Evie. ‘An extended family break,’ I’d told the regular pharmacist, who’d been only too pleased to authorise additional supplies.

I’d packed the new bottle away at the bottom of a box of old photographs and greetings cards. I had no intention of taking those tablets, of course, but it gave me a warm glow to know I had them there. Should I need them.

I’d read in a magazine that some prescription drug addicts couldn’t manage even for an hour or two after the effects began to wear off. I’d gone two days already, so I felt satisfied that I wasn’t remotely near addiction.

The instructions stated that patients shouldn’t drive or operate machinery whilst taking the sedatives but I was just going to take half. That reduced dosage was hardly going to render me useless and incompetent.

I unscrewed the bottle and shook one tablet out into my palm. It sat there like a lucky charm. I looked around the bathroom for something to cut it in half with, but, of course, there was nothing that was suitable.

In the few moments it gave me to think, I was seized by a sudden rush of optimism. We had a new house, a new school for Evie and I had a new job which miraculously fit in with school hours, meaning I could still take Evie to class each morning.

I could do this.

My husband had died in a terrible tragedy but I was still forging on and I was nearer to coming out the other side than I’d ever been. Some people, like Tara, for instance, hadn’t been so fortunate.

I had years of experience at management level in the property business. I could do the new job with my eyes closed. I knew it.

I didn’t need the tablet. I could cope on my own.

I tipped it back into the bottle and tucked it away in the cabinet again.

---

Dale Gregory had said that if there was a free spot, I could park around the back of the offices. As I turned in to the small grid of marked places, I was pleased to see a free space right outside the back entrance.

It had just started to rain. I nabbed the spot right away, noting how the wipers on the Punto seemed a bit stiff and were leaving the windscreen still wet and smeared. They would probably be the next thing that needed attention on my list of jobs that I couldn’t afford.

I bit down on my lip. This might be a good time to stop expecting the worst. Today had been a good start so far. Everything was going to be fine. I reached for my handbag and slipped my feet back into Mum’s black court shoes.

I tried the back door of the shop but it was locked so I walked around to the front. I cursed as the fine drizzle settled on my hair; the last thing I wanted was to walk in looking a damp, frizzy mess when my line manager, Bryony, obviously put such great stock on looking well groomed and slickly professional.

Out on the main road, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, striding into the shop with confidence, as if I’d worked there for years.

My optimistic mood dropped immediately as I stepped inside. The shop was empty. No customers and, even worse, no staff. I had a flashback to briefing my own team at the agency in Hemel.

‘Please make sure there is a member of staff out front at all times,’ I told them when I was first appointed branch manager. ‘Even if you have to stagger nipping to the loo or making a drink. Nothing looks worse to customers than walking into an empty shop.’

When I got the chance, it might be a good idea to suggest the same to Dale or Bryony to make a good, early impression. It didn’t hurt to bring something to the table as the newbie, illustrate right away that you were adding value.

I’d been standing there for a minute or so when a small, plump woman appeared from the back of the shop. She clutched an oversized soup mug and beamed at me.

‘Hello there, sorry to keep you waiting.’ She raised the mug and grinned. ‘Lunchtime. How can I help you?’

‘I’m Toni Cotter.’ I smiled. ‘It’s my first day here and I—’

‘Of course! Toni! I saw you when you came in yesterday but I was tied up with customers so couldn’t say hello.’ She plonked her mug down carelessly and the croutons floating on top made an easy escape onto the desk. ‘I’m Jo Deacon, assistant sales agent.’

We shook hands and I found I liked Jo immediately. Her light brown, natural curls settled loosely on her shoulders, her warm brown eyes sparkled and dimples danced in full, lightly rouged cheeks. Everything about her came together to make me feel welcome, and finally I felt the tendons in my neck relax a little.

‘Dale’s out on a commercial valuation but Bryony will be back very soon.’ She dabbed at the soup spill with a tissue. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea or anything?’

‘No, thanks. I’m fine,’ I said, looking around. ‘Do you know which one will be my desk?’

Jo blew at her soup and took a sip, grimacing as it scalded her mouth.

‘That was Phoebe’s desk, your predecessor.’ She nodded to the far desk located by the main door and I immediately thought of the constant draught the person sitting there would have to endure. ‘That will probably be your desk now, but who knows. Bryony likes to mix things up sometimes, you know?’ Jo rolled her eyes.

I felt a kind of comradeship with her already. I’d worked out for myself that Bryony was the kind of boss who could be a bit pedantic.

I perched on the edge of the desk behind me.

‘So, I heard Dale say you’ve just moved to the area?’

I nodded.

‘With your family?’

‘With my daughter,’ I said. ‘My mum lives close by, too.’

That was all I was willing to say at the moment. I liked Jo but I wasn’t yet ready to open up and tell her all about the reality of how crap my life was.

‘How long have you worked here?’ I asked her, just for something to say.

‘Far too long.’ Jo grinned, sitting down and making a half-hearted attempt to tidy the strewn papers on her desk. ‘It’ll be six years this Christmas.’

‘What did you do before?’

‘Oh, you know, this and that.’ I got the distinct feeling she perhaps didn’t want to remember. That was fine by me; I knew exactly how it felt to want to keep your distance from the past. ‘It’s OK here, the hours and the pay aren’t too bad, I suppose. Above the minimum wage, anyway. It’s just that—’

The front door flew open then and Jo immediately clamped her mouth shut as Bryony appeared. She was dressed in an immaculate black suit she’d paired with a silver-grey silky blouse and towering red heels. Her expression was thunderous.

‘Hi, Bryony,’ Jo called brightly.

‘Who the hell does that old Punto belong to in the car park?’ Bryony demanded. ‘Some idiot has only gone and dumped their heap of crap in my space.’