Page 11 of The First Mistake

He nods. ‘They loved it, but what’s not to love? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see how good you are at what you do.’

‘What about the kitchen and bathrooms?’ I ask, excitedly. ‘Did they like the furniture choices?’

‘Yep, they thought they were inspired.’

I feel my chest rise, my pride instantly buoyed. ‘When do you think we’ll hear for definite? Did they give you any idea on timescales?’

I absently top up my red wine, almost filling an already oversized balloon glass to the brim.

He eyes me carefully. ‘All being well, they’re exchanging contracts next Monday and completing the week after. But they want to have a designer on board as soon as they exchange.’

Butterflies dance in my stomach at all the possibilities, whilst my brain tries its damnedest to keep myself from racing ahead.

‘How long will it take to build?’ I ask.

‘They’re looking to do it in two hits,’ he says. ‘The first phase will be completed in twelve months and the second will be around six months later. It’s a lot of work, Alice, and it’ll all come at you pretty quickly.’

‘It’s what I’ve been waiting for,’ I say. ‘This is it. This is the big one.’

He trails my jawline with his finger. ‘I only want to do this if you’re sure you can handle it. I can’t risk you having a relapse, so if you have any reservations, any at all, then you need to say.’

I remember a time, not so long ago, when the very thought of it would have had me running for the hills. A time when I was scared of myownshadow, let alone the one created by the black dog that seemed destined to be by my side forever more. Back then, I was so far down that hole that I even began to seek the darkness out, believing that it was my only true friend.

I could barely get out of bed, only doing so to deposit Sophia in the playground, before sloping back to hide under the duvet, where my thoughts would poison even the brightest of days. At three o’clock, I’d get up again and convince myself that no one would notice my stained joggers as I waited at the school gates, head down, trying to hide from anyone who was brave enough to look. Ironically, it might have only taken one person to show an interest for my faith in humanity to have been restored. But on the rare occasion I was looking, all I could see was embarrassment and avoidance. I knew I was being ridiculed and reviled, spoken about and ostracized, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything other than being a mother, and even then, I was barely functioning. Just thinking about it makes my breath come in short, sharp pants.

‘Are you sure you’re ready for this?’ asks Nathan again.

I nod my head, aggrieved at his lack of confidence in me, though I have to dig deep to find it myself. ‘I’m absolutely ready for this, Nathan. I’m not going back to where I was.’

‘Well, I’ll be here to help and give you all the support you need, but ultimately it’syourface that fronts the company, it’syourtalent that delivers results and it’syouwho people want to work with.’

I smile and hold his hands. ‘But it’syouwho runs things behind the scenes and I couldn’t do what I do if it weren’t for you. We’re in this together.’

He lifts my hands to his lips. ‘And Sophia, how’s she getting on with her exams?’

‘She’s got her final one on Friday,’ I grimace. ‘Maths, of all things. I mean, you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy, would you?’

‘That’s because you haven’t got a head for figures,’ he says, laughing. ‘Remind me what you got in your maths final exams.’

‘Er, a U,’ I mumble.

‘What was that?’ he says, leaning in with a hand cupped to his ear. ‘Can you repeat that? Louder.’

I swipe him on the arm with a tea towel. ‘A U,’ I almost shout.

‘And what does U stand for?’ he says, holding himself up against the kitchen worktop for fear of falling to the ground laughing.

‘Unclassified,’ I say.

‘So, you didsobadly that they couldn’t possibly grade it?’ he manages.

‘That’s why I had to marry you,’ I say triumphantly, as I kiss him. ‘So you could do my numbers for me.’

‘So, is she going to be okay?’ he asks.

I look at him perplexed, momentarily forgetting what we were talking about.

‘Sophia,’ he says, reading my confused expression. ‘Does she think she’s done enough revision?’

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