The Men in her Life

him,’ Philippa said, ‘and I knew that he was working-class enough to do the right thing. Everyone wanted him. I had to make sure...’
    ‘But he adored you...’
    ‘Did he? I thought so, but now I’m not so sure...’
    ‘Of course he did,’ she couldn’t believe she was reassuring her mother of such a transparent truth. What about me, she was screaming inside, what about me?
    ‘So I was conceived as a trap for you to get your man...’ she said, ‘and so you and Jack both kept secrets about your children...’
    That thought had not occurred to Philippa before. Hers was only one little lie, she told herself, not a lifetime’s lying.
    ‘I understand about you,’ Clare said, ‘but why didn’t Jack love me either?’
    Philippa looked up, clearly surprised.
    ‘But he did. He adored you when you were little. You were a real daddy’s girl. He was always buying you things...’
    ‘Buying things is not the same as loving...’ Clare interrupted, but Philippa took no notice.
    ‘... when you grew older I think he found it difficult. You were so different from either of us. So quiet and secretive...’
    ‘Secretive?’
    ‘You were in a world of your own with your fairy stories and your imaginary friends...’
    ‘And by that time he had Holly...’
    ‘Is that her name?’
    ‘Her mother named her after Breakfast at Tiffany’s
    ‘… She looks like Jack, if you can imagine that, and she always lets you know what she’s feeling. Always. No wonder he loved her. She’s the exact opposite from me.’
    ‘You sound as if you know her quite well.’
    Clare laughed drily.
    ‘A bit too well,’ she said.
    Her overwhelming feeling about Holly now was disappointment, not so much for the betrayal, although that hurt, but because she had fallen so swiftly and eagerly for Joss’s charm. She had thought that Holly was different from everyone else, and she had turned out to be just the same.
    ‘I think I’ll turn in,’ Clare said, ‘Tom gets up very early, I’m afraid...’
    ‘Oh...’ In the darkness Philippa’s voice sounded very small and as Clare stood up she said, ‘Thank you, Clare.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘For coming. For explaining. I know I don’t deserve it, but it has helped me...’
    ‘That’s OK,’ Clare said.
    She lay in bed listening to the sounds of the house that had not changed in twenty years, the creak of the fifth step on the first flight of stairs, water flowing down the pipes as Philippa drew her bath, the screech of car brakes on the unexpectedly sharp corner at the bottom of their road, the rustle of leaves in the tall trees. The sounds were potent memories that made her a child again, and tears dribbled down her cheeks, soaking the pillow on either side of her face.

    Anji said that her next script was going to be called Never Enough.
    ‘It’s about this really ambitious woman who gets everything she ever wanted, but it’s never enough. You know, job, money, man... what do you think?’ she interrupted herself.
    Holly didn’t know what to say.
    ‘Sounds good,’ she managed.
    Sounds like me, she wanted to say. I used to think that sitting around in a West End office with my feet on the desk, having a cigarette with an interesting and talented client would be enough. But here I am, and it isn’t. I used to think that a salary that took me into the forty per cent tax bracket would make me rich, but I’m just as broke as I’ve ever been. Just a week ago, I thought that fucking Joss Drummond would be enough but...’
    ‘I’ve got to run,’ Anji said, ‘I’m having lunch with Charlie Prince.’
    I used to think that being friends with someone like Charlie Prince and his wife would be enough, Holly thought. But she hadn’t even seen them since the dinner party, and the wonderful feeling of having met kindred spirits had been as ephemeral as any other sensation in the illusory world she inhabited.
    She took a long drag on her cigarette as Anji left the office, and stubbed it out. Then defiantly lit another, daring anyone to come into her office and tell her off in the mood she was in. She rearranged the papers on her desk, thought about making some calls, picked up the phone, put it back, swore at herself, and decided to go and buy a sandwich.

    The notice on the cash machine said:
    ‘In our continuing effort to provide our customers with an efficient service, this express till was operational 98.6% of opening hours during the month of August.’
    The screen below