Precious shrugged. ‘You can’t legislate for how you feel. And as you so rightly say – he’s not your brother.’
‘Oh no.’ Layla was shaking her head, wagging her finger in Precious’s face. ‘No, I can see what you’re doing. You’re doing me, aren’t you? All this psychology stuff, all this counselling hoo-ha – you’re trying it out on me.’
Precious didn’t seem to be listening. She had a look of excitement on her face. Her eyes were moving over Layla assessingly.
‘He sees you – and he sees his sister,’ she said.
‘Well, obviously.’
‘He doesn’t see you as a fanciable woman. Well, it would be a bit of a push,’ said Precious.
‘What does that mean?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No, come on. What?’ she demanded.
‘I wonder why you feel the need to play down your looks so much, that’s all,’ shrugged Precious.
‘Look, just bugger off, will you?’ said Layla through gritted teeth. Who the fuck did this girl think she was, to say that? ‘Bugger off. Go and shake your arse in someone’s face, that’s what you’re best at.’
Precious stood up. Though Layla was trembling with fury, Precious seemed unperturbed. ‘Attack as the best form of defence,’ she said, smiling.
‘Fuck off!’ yelled Layla.
Precious hadn’t long gone when Layla heard the phone ringing in the office down the hall. Ellie picked up, and Layla heard her own name mentioned. She went out into the corridor, listening. Ellie was saying: ‘No, no, far too poorly to come to the phone… Well, of course it’s an inconvenience for you, and she feels terrible about letting you down, but what can she do?… A major audit?… Well, you know what a conscientious girl Layla is, she wouldn’t ever want to let you down, but she’s so ill… Yes, OK, I’ll see she gets the message.’
Ellie put the phone down, looked at Layla. ‘Sounds like your boss is a right prick!’
‘Was it Etchingham?’ Layla could feel her heart pounding.
‘Yeah, that’s the one: Graham Etchingham. Your mum must have given him this number,’ said Ellie. ‘Cold-blooded fucker.’
‘That’s my head of department. What exactly did he say?’
‘He wants a doctor’s certificate by tomorrow.’ Ellie shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it – your dad could get you ten if you wanted. Whew – talk about a short fuse!’
Layla chewed her lip. ‘I’m going to lose my job,’ she moaned.
‘No you’re not,’ said Ellie, getting up to give her a hug. Layla was such a worrier: Ellie wished she’d toughen up, grow a bit of a ruthless streak like her mother. Fuck Etchingham. He was a tiny parasite on the arse-end of the Earth, nothing for a Carter woman to trouble herself over. Why couldn’t Layla