Nine and a half hours before she decided to die, Nora arrived late for her a๎ernoon shi๎ย at Stringย ๎ขeory.
โIโm sorry,โ she told Neil, in the scru๏ฌy little windowless box of an o๏ฌce. โMy cat died. Last night. And I had to bury him. Well, someone helped me bury him. But then I was le๎ย alone in my ๏ฌat and I couldnโt sleep and forgot to set the alarm and didnโt wake up till midday and then had to rush.โ
๎ขis was all true, and she imagined her appearance โ including make-up-free face, loose makeshi๎ย ponytail and the same secondhand green corduroy pinafore dress she had worn to work all week, garnished with a general air of tired despair โ would back her up.
Neil looked up from his computer and leaned back in his chair. He joined his hands together and made a steeple of his index ๏ฌngers, which he placed under his chin, as if he was Confucius contemplating a deep philosophical truth about the universe rather than the boss of a musical equipment shop dealing with a late employee.ย ๎ขere was a massive Fleetwood Mac poster on the wall behind him, the top right corner of which had come unstuck and ๏ฌopped down like a puppyโs ear.
โListen, Nora, I like you.โ
Neil was harmless. A ๏ฌ๎y-something guitar a๏ฌcionado who liked cracking bad jokes and playing passable old Dylan covers live in the store.
โAnd I know youโve got mental-health stu๏ฌ.โ โEveryoneโs got mental-health stu๏ฌ.โ
โYou know what I mean.โ
โIโm feeling much better, generally,โ she lied. โItโs not clinical.ย ๎ขe doctor says itโs situational depression. Itโs just that I keep on having new . . .
situations. But I havenโt taken a day o๏ฌย sick for it all. Apart from when my mum . . . Yeah. Apart from that.โ
Neil sighed. When he did so he made a whistling sound out of his nose.
An ominous B ๏ฌat. โNora, how long have you worked here?โ
โTwelve years and . . .โ โ she knew this too well โ โ. . . eleven months and three days. On and o๏ฌ.โ
โ๎ขatโs a long time. I feel like you are made for better things. Youโre in your late thirties.โ
โIโm thirty-๏ฌve.โ
โYouโve got so much going for you. You teach people piano . . .โ โOne person.โ
He brushed a crumb o๏ฌย his sweater.
โDid you picture yourself stuck in your hometown working in a shop? You know, when you were fourteen? What did you picture yourself as?โ
โAt fourteen? A swimmer.โ Sheโd been the fastest fourteen-year-old girl in the country at breaststroke and second-fastest at freestyle. She remembered standing on a podium at the National Swimming Championships.
โSo, what happened?โ
She gave the short version. โIt was a lot of pressure.โ
โPressure makes us, though. You start o๏ฌย as coal and the pressure makes you a diamond.โ
She didnโt correct his knowledge of diamonds. She didnโt tell him that while coal and diamonds are both carbon, coal is too impure to be able, under whatever pressure, to become a diamond. According to science, you start o๏ฌย as coal and you end up as coal. Maybe that was the real-life lesson.
She smoothed a stray strand of her coal-black hair up towards her ponytail.
โWhat are you saying, Neil?โ
โItโs never too late to pursue a dream.โ โPretty sure itโs too late to pursue that one.โ
โYouโre a very well quali๏ฌed person, Nora. Degree in Philosophy . . .โ
Nora stared down at the small mole on her le๎ย hand.ย ๎ขat mole had been through everything sheโd been through. And it just stayed there, not caring. Just being a mole. โNot aย massiveย demand for philosophers in Bedford, if Iโm honest, Neil.โ
โYou went to uni, had a year in London, then came back.โ
โI didnโt have much of a choice.โ
Nora didnโt want a conversation about her dead mum. Or even Dan. Because Neil had found Noraโs backing out of a wedding with two daysโ notice the most fascinating love story since Kurt and Courtney.
โWe all have choices, Nora.ย ๎ขereโs such a thing as free will.โ
โWell, not if you subscribe to a deterministic view of the universe.โ โBut whyย here?โ
โIt was either here or the Animal Rescue Centre.ย ๎ขis paid better. Plus,
you know, music.โ
โYou were in a band. With your brother.โ
โI was.ย ๎ขe Labyrinths. We werenโt really going anywhere.โ โYour brother tells a di๏ฌerent story.โ
๎ขis took Nora by surprise. โJoe? How do youโโ โHe bought an amp. Marshall DSL40.โ
โWhen?โ
โFriday.โ
โHe was in Bedford?โ
โUnless it was a hologram. Like Tupac.โ
He was probably visiting Ravi, Nora thought. Ravi was her brotherโs best friend. While Joe had given up the guitar and moved to London, for a crap IT job he hated, Ravi had stuck to Bedford. He played in a covers band now, called Slaughterhouse Four, doing pub gigs around town.
โRight.ย ๎ขatโs interesting.โ
Nora was pretty certain her brother knew Friday was her day o๏ฌ.ย ๎ขe fact prodded her from inside.
โIโm happy here.โ โExcept you arenโt.โ
He was right. A soul-sickness festered within her. Her mind was throwing itself up. She widened her smile.
โI mean, I am happy with the job. Happy as in, you know, satis๏ฌed. Neil, I need this job.โ
โYou are a good person. You worry about the world.ย ๎ขe homeless, the environment.โ
โI need a job.โ
He was back in his Confucius pose. โYou need freedom.โ โI donโt want freedom.โ
โ๎ขis isnโt a non-pro๏ฌt organisation.ย ๎ขough I have to say it is rapidly becoming one.โ
โLook, Neil, is this about what I said the other week? About you needing to modernise things? Iโve got some ideas of how to get younger peoโโ
โNo,โ he said, defensively. โ๎ขis place used to just be guitars. Stringย ๎ขeory, get it? I diversi๏ฌed. Made this work. Itโs just that when times are tough I canโt pay you to put o๏ฌย customers with your face looking like a wet weekend.โ
โWhat?โ
โIโm afraid, Noraโ โ he paused for a moment, about the time it takes to li๎ย an axe into the air โ โIโm going to have to let you go.โ
