Page 114 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘No idea,’ Emer, a junior, shouts back. ‘Made me redo the men’s bathroom yesterday. Like what the hell!’

‘She’s being a total bitch!’ Claudia rolls her eyes.

‘Her dad is sick,’ I say, and clamp my hand over my mouth as soon as the words come out.

Claudia stomps her foot on the back of the hoover and shuts it off. Her eyes narrow as she glares at me and it’s obvious she’s unimpressed that I’ve cut into their conversation. I turn away, and yelp when I almost physically bump into Elaine. I hear the others snigger behind me. Elaine’s expression is like thunder. I hope she didn’t hear me over the hum of the hoover, but I have a horrible feeling she did.

‘Claudia?’ Elaine calls out.

‘Mm-hmm.’

‘Can you clean the men’s bathrooms please?’

Claudia’s face pinches. ‘But Emer did it already.’

‘Claudia, now please?’ Elaine says.

Claudia nods and unplugs the hoover and begins to wind up the flex.

‘Can you help her?’ Elaine asks Emer. ‘You can leave that there.’ She points to the hoover.

Emer’s face makes me want to laugh, but I don’t, of course. Claudia and Emer don’t say a word as they walk away.

Elaine waits until they are out of earshot before she turns towards me. ‘You don’t have to do that, you know.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Defend me.’

‘Oh. I?—’

‘Believe me, I’ve been called worse. Besides, the bathroom was still filthy. Emer’s idea of clean and mine are very different.’

‘Right, eh, okay. Sorry. I won’t say anything again.’

Elaine nods, fetches the hoover and drags it away behind her. She stops and turns her head over her shoulder. ‘Go on lunch, Bea.’

I glance at my watch. ‘But it’s only twelve thirty. I’m not scheduled until one.’

‘Take the extra time.’

‘Oh.’

I don’t question Elaine. I’m not about to turn my nose up at thirty free minutes. I make the snap decision that the extra time will allow me to dash across the city and catch Cora at work. Our texts and calls have been awkward since New Year’s Eve and I’ve been longing for a chance to speak in person. I haven’t been able to call round to her flat because my evenings are taken up with Ellie and Malcolm, and I am worried about her.

Outside, the bus arrives bang on time and traffic is light. I’m overjoyed that the friendship gods are on my side. That is until I reach the multistorey, high-tech private hospital where Cora works and she spots me. Hurt, sadness, anger and disappointment all merge on her face to create a sour expression as she juts a hip out and says, ‘I can’t talk now. I’m working.’

‘Please?’

She shakes her head, and without warning I bend in the middle and start to cry.

‘Oh, Jesus, Bea.’

Cora rushes to me and envelopes me in a hug.

‘Tell me. Talk to me. Please tell me what the fuck has been going on?’ she begs.

‘Lunch?’ I manage to say, dragging my sleeve under my nose, but it doesn’t help much. I’m a blubbering, snorty, slightly snotty mess.

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