Page 32 of Alice Carver Manifests Her Perfect Life
There was a gasp round the table.
‘Have they… let you go?’
‘No, Mum,’ said Astrid. ‘It’s my decision. I’ve looked at my life, and well, maybe there’s more out there for me. I want to try a different career.’
There was another intake of breath. Astrid has wanted to be a lawyer since she was five.
‘But, darling,’ said Dad, ‘you won the Chancellor’s Medal! You made partner at thirty-two!’
‘And now I want something new,’ said Astrid. ‘I’m thinking of becoming a doctor.’
‘A doctor?’ said Dad in astonishment. ‘What about your blood phobia, darling… ?’
‘It’s good to push oneself out of one’s comfort zone,’ said Astrid. ‘I’ll have to retrain completely. But I’m volunteering at the hospital in the meantime.’
‘But you’d have tocarefor others, darling,’ said Dad.
Astrid’s nickname as an associate was ‘the onion’ because she regularly reduced other lawyers to tears in court.
‘I must say, Astrid,’ said Mum, quickly recovering her composure. ‘This seems uncharacteristic behaviour. It’s verging on reckless. Why have you gone along with it, Aziz?’
Aziz swallowed. ‘I haven’t,’ he said quietly.
‘This is something I need to do on my own,’ said Astrid pointedly. ‘At least my partners are supporting me.’
‘Your partners support you suddenly handing in your notice?’ said Aziz.
Astrid rubbed her nose. ‘They told me not to hand it in yet and to take some time. But they supportmylife choices.’
‘I think I heard the door,’ he said and left the room.
Everyone was quiet for a moment apart from Arrie drumming her fingers on the table.
‘You know, Astrid, I thought you were going to say you were having a baby,’ she said, ‘or that you were becoming a senior partner.’ Her voice was gradually rising in volume, never a good sign. ‘But instead… you’re throwing your life away! Starting from the bottom!’ Arrie paused then leant forward for effect. ‘You’ll be like Alice!’
Er, that was uncalled for.
‘I’m not throwing my life away,’ said Astrid calmly.
‘And Aziz’s face! He clearly doesn’t agree with this decision – he’s your husband and you’re acting like his opinion doesn’t matter.’
‘Be fair, Arrie,’ interjected Roger. ‘It’s hardly like you care about my opinion either.’
‘Pipe down, Roger!’ snapped Arrie, throwing her napkin onto her plate. ‘This is family stuff. Carver. Of course I don’t care about your opinion. No one does. Aziz is totally different.’
‘Thanks very much,’ said Roger moodily, his neck mottling as he reached for the bottle. He topped up everyone’s wine glass except Arrie’s.
Astrid shrugged and fiddled with her wine glass stem.‘I want a change. I don’t have to justify it. I don’t really care what you think or what Aziz thinks.’
‘Goodness,’ said Arrie, downing her glass. ‘You’re sounding about as spoilt as Alice. And how’s that working out for her? Forty and nothing to show for it – she barely owns the coat on her back.’
‘Hey!’ I said indignantly. ‘I’m thirty-seven. Just. And I own plenty.’
(Although technically not the coat on my back. I actually borrowed it from Mira, Drunk Stephen’s other flatmate, whose exciting wardrobe doesn’t really compensate for her boringness.)
‘Anyway, this is about Astrid, not me,’ I said.
‘Exactly,’ said Astrid. ‘I already have the house, the husband, the six-figure salary. I’m in a position where I have choices.’
