Page 2 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘I think if you don’t, you could become seriously ill,’ the doctor said gravely. ‘Think of it this way, Becky. A month off nowcould save you a few months off in the future if things continue down the same path.’ Her earnest eyes were full of empathy. It made Becky want to scream. ‘Also, you’re on a final warning from HR over this. Better to make sure you’re fully well in case something happens again?’

‘Look, it won’t, I swear,’ Becky said desperately. ‘I’ll… look, I’ll do anything. Want me to take up jogging? Meditation? Book a therapy session or two?’

‘Well, yes, all of those things will undoubtedly be helpful. But I’m sorry, I’m still signing you off.’ The doctor looked at her kindly. ‘It would be unprofessional of me to?—’

‘Surely there’s something we can do?’ Becky asked desperately. ‘I’m fine! I’ll prove it!’ She got to her feet, thoughts racing. ‘Ask me anything about my job. Anything! I promise you I am nailing it!’

The doctor gave a sympathetic head tilt. ‘Sit down, Becky,’ she said, using the kind of weary voice a teacher might use with a wayward pupil.

Becky sat, chastened. ‘It’s just… there must be something I can do to convince you.’

‘I’m so sorry. If it helps, I can see how committed you are to your job. It’s admirable. But Becky, high-flying types like yourself, the way youcareabout your job… it just makes you more prone to burnout.’

‘I promise I don’t need time off though.’

‘You’ll thank me eventually.’

Becky felt a sudden urge to reach for the doctor’s possessions – the cute family photo, the neat stack of folders, the laptop, a tiny plushie in the shape of a frog – and dramatically sweep them from the desk.

Instead, she clenched her fists, smiled thinly, got to her feet, picked up her bag and made her way to the door, past the rows and rows of diplomas and silver-framed photos of the doctorshaking hands with various important-looking people. I bet, she thought, nobody’s ever forcedherto have a month off.

Stepping out of the office into the waiting room, she saw Amber flicking through last month’sGood Housekeeping, her head nodding as she took in whatever wisdom was being imparted. It was only when Becky stood right in front of her that her best friend raised her eyes, her expression turning from thoughtful to concerned. ‘How did it go?’ she asked, making a face.

‘Not good.’ Becky looked at the other patients in the waiting room. Just two – one reading a book on meditation, the other sitting, glancing at a phone screen from time to time. Nobody appeared to be listening in. Still, she inclined her head towards the exit and, understanding, Amber folded her magazine and stood up.

‘They’ve signed me off,’ she said as they waited for the lift, trying to keep her voice steady. She didn’t want to cry, not before they were at least in the car. But it was going to be a close thing.

‘Oh! Well, that’s OK,’ Amber said, putting a hand on Becky’s back. ‘You’ll be OK. If I’m honest, I wouldn’t mind a bit of time off myself! Did you know that Rufus?—’

‘It’snotOK,’ Becky said. ‘Amber, they’ve signed me off for amonth!’

‘Wow. Long time.’

‘Yeah. A monthisa long time, with Stevie in the office.’ Stevie, graduate extraordinaire, had been snapping at Becky’s heels for a while, clearly vying for a place on the management team. Now, there would be no holding her back.

They were silent for a moment. The lift slid into position and the doors opened. Thankfully it was empty. Becky avoided looking at herself in the mirrored wall, not wanting to see her no-doubt reddening eyes, instead turning to face the buttons and pressing the ‘G’ emphatically. Amber gave herself a briefonce-over, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear. Her battle with her curls was constant; and she knew they would always win. But it didn’t stop her trying.

‘Come on,’ Amber said, turning back to her once the lift started to descend. ‘It could be fun. I mean, I know it’s not ideal, career-wise.’

‘The understatement of the year.’

‘But once you… accept it… it’ll do you good, Becks. God. Maybe I’ll ditchmyjob. We can travel the world together. Relive our wild youth!’

Becky raised an amused eyebrow. ‘Wild youth? What, staying out past eleven in the pub? Sneaking cigarettes in the park in our teens? The time we lied to our mums about having a sleepover and tried to get into a nightclub?’

‘That’s about the sum of it.’

They smiled at each other, momentarily transported back to being the teenage conspirators of fourteen years ago. But Becky’s face soon fell again. She covered it with her hands and let out a groan. ‘But seriously, it’s just insane! I’m at the top of my game. Yes, I occasionally get a bit stressed. But you can hardly call it burnout.’ She thought again of the office – its sleek windowed wall looking out over London, her wardrobe stuffed with designer work wear. The flat – the flat she’d set her heart on owning. All of these things required money, maintenance. Losing her job could literally lose her everything. Why had she taken the call at that moment? And why hadn’t she held in her emotions? Or done something less dramatic and kicked over a wastepaper basket or something?

Amber remained silent as the doors slid open again. A man with a leather satchel over his shoulder stepped in before they could step out.

‘Excuseus!’ Becky said loudly, half-barging into the man with her shoulder as they passed.

‘Becky!’ Amber said as the doors slid closed behind them.

‘What? He was rude. It’s not good elevator etiquette!’

‘Elevator etiquette?!’

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