Page 32 of The Wake-Up Call

That’s from Ana. I rub my eyes with my thumb and forefinger.

É só uma colega de trabalho, I type.Just a colleague.

Ela é bonita?Ana asks.

My thumb hovers. If I say yes, she’s pretty, then they will not be satisfied until Izzy is flying over to Brazil for a large family wedding. So the obvious thing to do is to say no, she’s not pretty. I glance across at Izzy as we step back into the lobby, watching as she tucks her hair behind her ear with a small, impatient hand, her gold hoop earring swinging as she walks.

I write,She is very difficult to work with. We don’t get along, in Portuguese, and then wait to see if I get away with sidestepping the question.

Então ela é linda!Ana writes.So she’s beautiful, then!

I click away from the chat. I can’t have this conversation right now. I’m meant to be working.

Izzy

I’m just starting to think that my big fat gold ring is a big fat dead end when Ifinallyget a hit on Friday.

Hi, Izzy,

Thanks very much for your email. It reminded me how nice your hotel is—I’ll definitely be booking another stay soon!

I smile to myself. If you put good stuff out into the universe...

I’m almost certain that ring belongs to my wife. She’s actually bought a new one since we lost it, but we’d still love to have it back. I’ve attached a photo of the ring on my wife’s hand, and the engraving. Does it match?

Yours,

Graham

It absolutelydoesmatch. I lean back in my desk chair, soaking in the feeling as I gaze up at the staircase behind the scaffolding. Winning is the best.

I snap another photo of the ring, then hit reply on Graham’s email. I frown—the address he’s responded to me from is slightly different from the one I used for him. Just to be safe, I put the other one in the CC line, too.

Hi, Graham!

Fantastic news! Please do drop in as soon as possible to claim your wife’s ring back! I’m so happy it’s found its way back to you. And what a lovely picture of the two of you on your wedding day! Here’s another snap of the ring itself so you can see that the engraving matches

All the best,

Izzy

After hitting send, I belatedly wonder if that might have been one too many exclamation marks. I’ve always been partial to an exclamation mark. Full stops just seem so... grown-up. When I stop wanting pick-and-mix for dinner, that’s when I’ll start using full stops. That’s real adulthood.

“Golly,” Poor Mandy says, marching in and hefting her bag down into a space between lost-property boxes.

I love how Mandy has taken our lost-property project in her stride and not once complained about the mess—if only Lucas could be more Mandy.

“I just ran into that Mrs. Hedgers, the career coach, outside. She’s very...” Mandy flaps a hand in front of her face as if to coolherself down, though it’s two degrees outside, and not much warmer in here—we’re trying to skimp on the heating as much as we can without pissing off the guests. “She’s a lot, isn’t she?”

I remember what Mrs. Hedgers said to me about switching off and I wince. Last night, after going for drinks with my school friends, I spent two hours trying to work out the logistics of getting to a hen-do in January, concluded it would cost me £380, agonised about whether I could bail on these grounds, and then fell asleep on the sofa in front of the latest series ofMarried at First Sight: Australia, which I’d promised Jem I’d watch so that we can re-create our oldMAFSAnights when we next Zoom.

I’m not sure that counts as switching off.

“What did she say to you?” I ask, diving into the next lost-property box. This one is pens. Even I think we probably shouldn’t have kept all these.

“She asked if I had trouble asserting myself,” Poor Mandy says. “I said I’m not sure, but I don’t think so? And then she told me all sorts of information about the value of strong boundaries, and now I feel a bit...” She plonks herself down in her chair. “Funny.”

I bite my lip, giving Mrs. Hedgers a smile and a wave as she passes on her way to Sweet Pea. Mandydefinitelyhas trouble asserting herself. She’s ridiculously amenable. Does that mean Mrs. Hedgers was right about me, too?

---