Page 8 of Prove You Wrong

‘I’m getting into a silly tizz.’ I eyeball the bartender and Josie follows my gaze. ‘I bumped into him the other day and I’ve been preoccupied with the memory, to say the least.’ I murmur out of the corner of my mouth. It’s thrown me, him serving us. I didn’t expect to ever see him again.

‘You should go for it.’ Her eyes are bright, excited.

‘No.’ I shut her down like I always do. I can’t risk getting hung up on a guy, bringing him into Chloe’s life, only to find he’s as bad as all the others when he leaves. ‘YouknowI don’t date.’

Don’t get me wrong. I would date. If there was a safe, trustworthy option who wasn’t going to upend my life, or Chloe’s life. But these people don’t exist. So, for all intents and purposes, I don’t date.

‘Who said anything about a date?’ She feigns confusion with a smirk.

Changing tack before she starts extolling the virtues of one-night stands, I raise my glass towards the guys in the corner. ‘You're sure you're okay withthe morons?’

‘Yeah.’ She looks bleak for a moment, but then she forces a weak smile to her lips. ‘There's triggers everywhere. It's been eight years.’ She shakes her head, her auburn hair swishing softly. ‘You'd think I'd be used to it by now.’

‘I don't think you ever need to get used to it.’ I squeeze her arm but drop the subject.

Usually a bright ray of sunshine, I know Josie prefers the distract and deny coping mechanisms for grief when we're out and about. In private, my girl lets it all out — but she wouldn't want to here.

‘How’s it going at Craftisan?’

‘The art shop is fine I guess — pays the bills. And the staff discount helps supply my habit.’ She waggles her eyebrows. ‘But my side hustle, my Etsy shop, is really taking off.’ Josie takes out her phone and swipes the screen. ‘Plus, I’ve been posting pieces on Instagram and have been getting people to vote on options like subjects or colours, which has started to translate into a few sales.’ Josie’s eyes light up as she talks more about her artwork and shows me photos of her latest designs. Her passion and excitement shines through. ‘It’s much more what I want to be doing, and it’s super fun.’

‘These look amazing. I’m going to commission an order one day … when I can afford you.’ I nudge her proudly.

‘You’d get mates’ rates,’ she chuckles.

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, she asks, ‘How’s stuff in the world of accounting?’

‘Don’t ask,’ I tut. ‘You'll never guess what my boss did mere minutes before he went off on annual leave this afternoon.’ I roll my eyes as if this is just a fun anecdote, but truthfully, it really got me down.

‘What's Boris the Bell End done now?’

I sit up a little straighter as I say, ‘Took a dump in my inbox.’

Josie splutters out her sip of drink. ‘Gross visual.’

‘Moments before he left, he forwarded me five of his clients’ accounts, that are acomplete mess,’ I gesticulate because I’m not sure Josie fully comprehends the amount of work Boris has loaded onto me. ‘He tells me he trusts I’ll get the issues resolved in the next couple of weeks and I shouldn't need his input.’ I puff at a strand of hair that’s fallen out of place. ‘He's going off grid so I can't contact him if I wanted anyway.’ Agitated, I swipe the loose lock behind my ear. ‘This is on top of what he's already got me doing since Shaun left. I had a little look before I finished for the day, the clients don't even record expenses properly.’ I massage the knot of tension above the bridge of my nose as I groan, ‘There's not even a shoebox of receipts.’

‘Sounds like he shit and split.’ She has such a way with words.

‘Pretty much.’ I take a long swig of my gin.

‘No wonder Shaun left.’

‘I thought Boris might promote me to fulfil the position, butno.’ I place my drink down firmly as if to punctuate the sentence.

‘You should get a new job.’ Josie swills her drink around the glass. ‘Seems like they want you to do the work of a senior accountant, but pay you as an assistant. That’s not fair.’

‘Sounds about right, though. Trouble is, I've got job security there. I can't up and leave without a viable job to move onto. I'd lose all my redundancy rights and sick pay and things. It's too risky.’ Again, I rub the spot between my eyebrows that feels like my skull is shrinking. ‘We need the money.’

‘You speak to your mum?’

‘I can't, you know she needs my help. I'll have to grit my teeth until Chloe's through her A-Levels and then see where the land lies.’

‘Girl, no wonder you needed a night tonight.’

‘Yeah, I was hoping to get blitzed on cocktails so I could forget … but gin is a great second choice. Does the tonic kind of make it a cocktail?’ I grasp my glass again, gaze wandering. The hot barman is pulling a pint for an older man; the flex of his biceps sends a warm buzz through me. I take another sip of my drink, savouring it on my palate as I observe him.

‘Still.’ Josie dips her head, following the direction of my focus. ‘The day can only get better, right?’

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