I really need to unpack more of this stuff, and find places to put it. I don’t have enough hangers for one thing, and another one of those shoe-racks wouldn’t go amiss either. I look around my living room, trying to find the best place to put a plushie Dalek. It’s not the sort of feature which really suits ‘modern contemporary’ for some reason.

Maybe the bedroom? I leave it on the table, and go back to hanging up dresses.

I wonder if I can get another freestanding clothes-rack in here somewhere? Even the living room would do. It’s not like I’m exactly going to have guests very often.

My phone rings again, and from the time of day I’m pretty damn sure it’s Momma before I even pick up the phone. Dress on hanger in hand, I reach for the phone. Right every time.

“Hello, Momma. How are you?”

“Hello, baby. Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Momma, I can hear you.” Same thing, every time.

“Your father and I heard about this deal thing on the Internet, this ‘Macaulay Bond’ your company is doing. Is this something that you are involved in? It sounds like your kind of thing. You should—”

“Yeah, I’m involved. I only found out about it myself a few days ago, so it’s not like I can say very much at this point.”

There’s a slightly theatrical gasp from the other end of the line. “You are involved? That’s wonderful news!” She pronounces it vonderful, despite having lived in this country for thirty years. “This is such a good opportunity for you! Just wait until I tell your father about this; he’s going to be so proud of you.”

“Yeah, I, uh—” I really wonder if now is the time to be talking about my reservations about the whole business.

“You are going to be so useful to these people, they are going to have to offer you the job, huh?”

“Well, maybe. I don’t know, Momma. I hope so.”

“You hope so? No way, for sure, huh? You are the best, you always were. These guys have to offer you a job if you do well with this.”

I try to find a nice way to change the subject. “Maybe, Momma. Look, the truth is, I’m a bit concerned about this whole deal. You see, if it goes ahead, there are going to be a lot of people who lose money, on the other side, you see? It’s kind of complicated, but I just want you to know that—”

Another theatrical gasp. “Veronica.” She knows how much I hate being called Veronica. “You are not seriously suggesting you are going to mess this up, are you?”

“No, Momma, I’m not saying that at all.” I am really beginning to regret trying to explain this, but I press on. “I’m just saying that I’m having second thoughts about what’s going on there, and whether it’s really the right thing to do or not. That’s all.”

“Do you know what you’re saying? I can’t believe I’m hearing this from my own daughter. You are seriously saying that you have this great opportunity to impress these people at this firm, to be involved in this big thing, and you aren’t sure whether you want to do it?” Uh-oh. Here it comes. “You need to grow up, Veronica.”

I try to argue. “Momma, this is exactly about growing up, okay? Don’t keep saying that to me. You’ve been saying that to me since high school, and all I’m saying is that I’m not sure being part of this is the right thing to do. That’s all.”

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.” There’s a frustrated jingle of earrings, a telltale sign that she’s annoyed. “If your father were to hear about this, well, I don’t know what he’d think.”

I seize on that. “Is Poppa there? Can I talk to him?”

“He’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him up. He didn’t sleep well last night because of the coughing, and the doctor says if he’s still coughing by the end of the week, he needs to go back into hospital. I hate those verdoemde hospitals. They make people sick, you know. You know your grandfather died of something he caught in a hospital, don’t you? It was just after the war, and we were very poor.”

“Yes, Momma, I know. You’ve told me. Things are much better now. Much safer.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want your father back in that hospital. You need to promise me you won’t do anything to make him sick.”

I grip my phone tight enough to break it. “Hell, I won’t do anything to make Poppa sick! What are you talking about?”

“You need to promise me you won’t do anything to jeopardize your job. I don’t care what they want you to do, you do it. If you lose that job, your father will be so upset. I don’t want anything to upset him right now.”

I take a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll do what I need to do to keep the job.”

“You promise me?” She won’t let it go once she’s got it in her head.

“Yes, I promise. This is stupid.”

“Okay.” Mollified, she seems to have forgotten why she called in the first place. I try one more time to escape.

“I have to go now, Momma, okay? I have to, uh, get to the shops before they close. Say hello to Poppa for me, okay?” Before she can answer, I hang up, put the phone down on the table and stare at it.

What have I done now? This wasn’t what I signed on for when I turned up at Walters Capital.

I pace around my apartment, trying to hang things up. After fifteen minutes, I throw my dresses on the bed in disgust, and put my coat on.

There’s only one way to get my mind off this.

Shoe shopping.