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break would be nice,’ said Steph wistfully. ‘A holiday would do us all good.’

      ‘Can’t afford it,’ I continued. ‘I haven’t budgeted for a holiday. I need to get this deposit saved and get this promotion at work and then I can go on all the holidays I want.’

      A holiday did appeal to me massively; I wanted a change of some sort and maybe a holiday could be just the thing I needed. Time to get some clarity.

      My thoughts ran through all the things I wanted to change: I was unhappy at work, unable to pursue anything I really wanted to do; I hadn’t saved enough for my own place; Connor was around less and less. My five year plan was already crumbling and I didn’t know whether a holiday would fix any of that. ‘I feel like I need a new thing, you know?’

      ‘What kind of thing?’ asked Sinead.

      ‘What I mean is, you have a thing Steph – you have a proper grown-up career and you are glamorous and can run in skyscraper heels. That’s your thing.’ I turned to Sinead. ‘And you Sinead, you have all your stuff going on. And your interests.’ I waved a hand up and down in front of her gesturing to her rose quartz jewellery. Steph and I had both said we would never speak to her again if she a) started wearing patchouli oil or b) started wearing any kinds of clothes that had mirrors in them. As it was, she was fairly stylish and a little bit quirky and we hoped it would remain that way.

      ‘But for me, everything is just so boring and repetitive! I haven’t achieved anything from my plan. I don’t have my thing. I haven’t found it.’

      ‘You have lots of things! Let’s see. You are excellent at cooking. And you are excellent at listening,’ said Steph.

      ‘That’s true,’ said Sinead. ‘You always listen to us and you come up with great solutions all the time. Plus, your new coat is nice.’ It was nice of her to say but Nice Coat wasn’t really the sort of thing I was looking for.

      ‘Maybe I should ask for a change at work,’ I announced.

      ‘But you hate change,’ said Steph, ‘That’s why you’re always moaning about this place. You’re always plotting and planning your way through everything.’

      ‘You should take small steps. If you want opportunities to come your way, you have to make room for them,’ said Sinead. ‘I know what you need,’ she continued, ‘I picked this up at the Himalayan Healing Centre. Listen, this could be the thing for all of us.’ She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a flyer and when I saw it, I knew that this was going to be the worst idea ever. Worse even than Steph going out with Jurassic Bleach.

       Chapter Three

      I suggested we all pile back to mine where I would cook us a midnight feast and we could discuss Sinead’s plan for us to attend ‘Fire up your life with Chelsea Aurora Moonbeam for £9.95’ on the way.

      Steph and Sinead always marvelled at how I cooked up such treats on a shoestring budget and they jumped at the offer. It also meant we could swing by the off licence and I could make even more savings on my budget.

      As we approached my flat, I saw Connor’s car outside. He was talking on the phone and as the three of us approached, he gave a wave and carried on his conversation on the telephone. I could see he’d had his hair cut and while he looked great, I couldn’t help but wonder how much it had cost. His beloved car, which I was never allowed to drive, seemed to look shinier than usual too and I wondered if he had paid for some ridiculous valeting service, further eating into our savings.

      ‘How much did that cost?’ I said as he got out of the shiny car.

      ‘I’ve missed you too, babe,’ he said, smiling.

      That smile. And those crinkly eyes. And his general smoking hotness. At one time, it was all enough to make me melt, but I was still so cross about the anniversary dinner, he’d have to do a better job than that.

      ‘I suppose you want to come in then,’ I said.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He tilted his head to the side and I admit I started to melt a little before I straightened myself up, determined not to be swayed by his charms. I needed to let him know how cross I was.

      ‘You could have called,’ I said.

      ‘You know I have to work, Fiona,’ he said.

      It wasn’t that I minded he worked so late or even that I didn’t get to see him as often as I liked, it was the thoughtlessness. What was he doing that kept him so busy, he couldn’t even send a text? Yes, it was important that we both worked hard and put everything we could in the joint savings account, but the sociable aspect of his job meant a lot of the time these ‘meetings’ he went to were nothing short of going out clubbing. I reminded myself that once we had the money saved to get a place, he wouldn’t have to ‘network’ so hard, and I might get to have my Saturdays back.

      Steph and Sinead looked a bit embarrassed and said a quick hello to Connor before saying their goodbyes, hugging me and walking back towards Steph’s house, leaving me and Connor alone.

      ‘Come in then,’ I said.

      He grabbed his bag out the boot, a Luis Vuitton hold-all I hadn’t seen before.

      ‘Is that new?’ I said.

      ‘We’ve talked about this before, Fiona. I have to look the part, don’t I?’ Looking the part was one thing, but if he hadn’t even earned what he was spending, I was worried he wasn’t saving enough for us. I didn’t know if it even mattered to him any more. He seemed to be more concerned about status and being seen to be cool than spending any time with me.

      We went into the kitchen where he dumped his bag by the washing machine and headed for the fridge.

      ‘Anything to eat? I’m starving’ he said, rooting through the fridge and freezer.

      ‘I cooked for you yesterday,’ I said.

      ‘I know, I know,’ he said ‘I’m sorry, but I was sorting out a really good deal. I’m doing it for us, for our future. Five year plan, remember?’

      ‘And what then,’ I asked, folding my arms.

      ‘How do you mean?’ he said picking with his fingers at the leftover lasagne I had earmarked for Sunday lunch.

      ‘Yeah, well I’m not entirely sure about the plan any more,’ I said. ‘I was thinking of doing something else. Leaving work, getting a different job. Maybe going back to college.’ I’d been thinking about it all day. Steph was right, I had spent too long plotting and planning and I was missing out on stuff.

      ‘We’ve talked about this,’ he said ‘We’ll get our own place first and then you’ll be able to do whatever you want.’

      ‘But I want to leave now, I hate it there. I’ve been there too long. It’s okay for you, you’re doing what you love. What about me?’

      ‘Fi,’ he said. ‘You know you can’t. I thought we were saving?’

      ‘Well maybe I don’t want to be saving, maybe I want to be living now.’

      ‘Maybe I could move in here,’ he said, spooning my lasagne into his mouth without any thought about what he was doing or saying. ‘Save some money that way?’

      I thought about it for a split second and then his bag by the washing machine caught my eye. Did I really want him moving in here to my one bed flat, coming back at all hours, only to never see him?

      I shrugged and leant back against the counter.

      ‘Maybe we should have a break?’ I suggested. I wasn’t sure whether this was what I wanted but I did want to see how he reacted.

      ‘Like a holiday?’ he said, ‘I don’t think we could afford that.’ I couldn’t believe he was so arrogant that he hadn’t even considered I meant a break

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