A Summer to Remember. Victoria Connelly

pub.

       ‘Just clear your desk out, tell Hilary to take a hike and go.’

      I will, Janey. I will, Nina said to herself.

      ‘Right!’ Hilary exclaimed, making Nina jump. ‘That’ll do for today.’

      Nina got up from her chair before Hilary had a chance to change her mind.

      ‘But I’ll need you here for eight tomorrow to start work on the end-of-month reports. First, though, I’ve got a few items you need to pick up from the dry cleaners. They open at seven so you’ll be able to get them en route to the office but don’t – whatever you do – crease them like you did last time. Honestly, Nina – the state of my jacket when you brought it in! You really don’t think sometimes!’

      Nina blinked in disbelief. There was no please, no asking if that was all right with Nina – it was just an order that demanded to be obeyed. And that’s when the stirring began – a strange bubbling inside her stomach. It felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. Anxiety, apprehension perhaps, urging her forward because, at last, the time had come.

      ‘I won’t be here at eight,’ Nina said, her voice unusually clear and calm. ‘And I won’t be here at nine either.’ As she spoke, she opened her desk drawer and took out her little pot of lip balm, before reaching to the side of her computer where a framed photo of her childhood pet dog, Bertie, had lived for the past two years.

      Hilary looked at her, not quite comprehending. ‘I’m afraid it’s necessary to work extra hours in order to get the job done. And if you don’t value that—’

      ‘No,’ Nina said, blowing the light covering of dust from Bertie’s frame, causing Hilary to blink. ‘Quite frankly, I don’t value it because you don’t value me and so I’m leaving. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for some time now and I really don’t know why it’s taken me so long.’ Nina’s eyebrows rose as assuredly as her confidence. ‘You are rude, unreasonable and uncaring, and I’ve had enough.’ She looked at her boss briefly, noting the gaping mouth.

      ‘How dare you talk to me like that!’ Hilary Jackson said, her eyes narrowed into two mean slits.

      ‘This is something I should have done months ago,’ Nina told her, staring right back at her and, for the first time since she’d taken the job, unafraid of her boss. ‘The very day after you arrived, in fact, because you’ve made my life a complete misery. We’re meant to be work colleagues, but you treat me like your own personal slave. You never ask my opinion about anything. You bulldoze over any suggestions I dare to make or else claim them for yourself and take all the credit for them with the management team. You swear at me. You set unreasonable deadlines and expect me to do hours of overtime without any extra pay whilst you slink off to your holistic retreat! Well, it’s over, Hilary! I’m not going to be treated like this anymore!’

      ‘What?’ Hilary barked.

      ‘I believe I’m owed my notice in annual leave, which I’ve been unable to take for some time, owing to your ridiculous deadlines as well as the volume of work you’ve put my way.’ Nina swung her handbag over her shoulder and, after one last look around the room, walked slowly away from her desk.

      ‘Nina Elliot – you just stop and think about what—’

      ‘Goodbye, Hilary,’ she interrupted before opening the door. ‘And good luck finding a replacement,’ she continued, ‘because you’ll need it.’

      When Nina got home, she kicked her shoes off and watched them hit the skirting boards with a satisfying thump. She’d done it; really done it this time, and not just acted out a scene in her head with a thousand witty retorts to each one of Hilary’s nasty instructions. It had felt wonderful. She’d felt free and full of all the possibilities that the future now held for her. She just had to decide what she wanted to do with it.

       Chapter Three

      When one door closes, somewhere a window is opened. At least, that’s how the saying went. But, Nina couldn’t help wondering the next morning if it had been wise to close a door before even knowing where to look for a window. Maybe not, but it had certainly been liberating.

      Janey had sounded delighted when Nina told her.

      ‘Well done, you!’ she cheered down the phone. ‘Now don’t go walking into another nasty little job again. Have a break – enjoy yourself,’ she advised. That was all very well, but what was she going to enjoy herself with? Fun always seemed to come with a pretty hefty price tag. And, finding herself out of teabags as well as T-shirts, Nina thought she should at least start to look for another position.

      The local recruitment agency wasn’t exactly what Nina had hoped for on the first day of her new-found freedom. The stark walls and bland office furniture looked like a ‘before’ room on a television makeover programme, and the jobs the city had to offer were just as uninspiring. Nina tutted, rolled her eyes, bit her lip and then walked back out into the sunshine. Janey was right. There was absolutely no point in summoning up the courage to jack in your job only to leap into another job that you didn’t totally love. She was worth more than that, and this was going to be a new start for her – not just in terms of a job but in her personal life, too. She was leaving behind the old Nina with the bad boyfriend and the bad job. Who knew what the future held in store for her? All she had to do was to remain optimistic and keep smiling.

      She held her face up to the early summer sunshine, rejoicing in the fact that she’d never have to face Hilary Jackson again in that tiny, airless office. She’d never forget her boss’s face as she’d said goodbye. Like Munch’s ‘The Scream’ with a touch of Lady Macbeth. It had been quite scary, and Nina began to feel sorry for the next poor soul to be taken on by her old boss. But that wasn’t her concern. She’d done her time and now she was free.

      It was a bright Wednesday morning at the end of May and she didn’t have to work; the city was her oyster. She could do what she wanted – visit all the places she never had time to when she was working. She could go to an afternoon matinee at the cinema, amble up the cobbled back streets and poke around the galleries and antique shops. She could browse around the bookshops or sip a cappuccino overlooking the rainbow array of the market. It was all there for the taking.

      Nina chose the market.

      The scent of fresh fruit and vegetables filled her nostrils and she walked without any real direction between the stalls. Cards for every occasion, cushions, CDs, casual coats, courgettes and chips – it was all there, and Nina ambled happily amongst the shoppers, smiling at everything yet nothing in particular, losing herself in the living labyrinth.

      When she finally tunnelled her way out, she had to shade her eyes against the sun and, as she did so, she noticed a small boy crying and pointing up to the sky. She followed his gaze and saw a bright red balloon drifting high above the shops towards the heavens. His mother grabbed his wrist and dragged him away.

      For a few moments, Nina stood transfixed, watching the red balloon until it became nothing more than a scarlet pinprick against the sky. Best go shopping for some food, she thought. It would be a new experience to go shopping on a weekday and the very thought of it made her smile. Even the simplest task was beginning to seem like an adventure.

      Dominic wasn’t having any luck at all. First of all his mother and brother, Alex, had blocked his car in – again – and then he’d found he was out of petrol. He’d had to beg twenty pounds from his dad in return for a promise to trim the yew hedges at the back of the house, which was a task worth at least fifty pounds of anyone’s money.

      And things didn’t get any better when he reached Norwich. Just what was he doing? It was madness, sheer madness to be driving around, getting caught up in the one-way system in the desperate hope of spotting her again. And the lunch hour traffic was hell. But on he drove, narrowly avoiding several careless workers who thought they could cross