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Jack followed and leaned against the racking. “Tell me more about this morning. Where did Francis whisk you off to?”

“One of the mill buildings. He’s got the top floor for the exhibition. It’s going to look so good.”

“And, what’s the plan? Did he offer you a space?” Jack nudged her in the ribs.

She loved him for rooting for her. “Not just a space. The highlight of the whole show.” Elda took another swig. “I’m still not sure whether I believe it. Or believe I can do it.”

“Have a bit of faith in yourself. Fancy Francis wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. This is it, Elda. Just take the chance while it’s there. Beats tapping your keyboard in this place forever.”

“I don’t think it’s going to lead to anything major. But it would be great to have the three paintings displayed properly for people to see.” Elda jumped to her feet, excitement coursing through her veins now the alcohol had numbed her self-doubt. “Francis knows what he’s doing, so it’ll be beautifully lit, and there’ll be flow to the whole space. I can’t get my head around it.”

“I can’t wait, chick. You deserve some good stuff. How’s your arm feeling?”

Elda glanced down at the cast. “Bit better. Not as painful. It just gets in the way.”

“Could’ve been your painting arm though, El. That would’ve been a nightmare.”

“Don’t. I couldn’t have coped.” She sat and leaned her head against Jack’s shoulder. “That woman from the other night came to see me at the studio.”

“What woman?”

“Charlie. The one who took me to the hospital. We went for coffee.”

“The one who ran you over?”

“It wasn’t like that, but yes. We had a really nice chat.”

“Uh oh. I know what your nice chats lead to.” Jack grinned.

“Don’t wind me up. She just wanted to check in with me and bring my phone back. It was good of her.”

“Okay, I’ve seen that look before.” Jack sat up and looked Elda in the eye. “You’ve only just given repulsive Rebecca the heave-ho. Don’t jump straight in with the next woman who happens to buy you a latte.”

“That’s offensive.” She avoided his gaze, doubt creeping through her. “I thought Rebecca was great to begin with.”

“Oh yeah, Rebecca was marvellous. So was Penny before her. And Michelle before her. You see the pattern here, don’t you? All I’m saying is, don’t let history repeat itself. Slow down, and you might save yourself some heartache.”

Elda sulked, annoyed that Jack was holding a mirror up to her behaviour. He offered her the bottle. “No, thanks, I’ve had enough.” Elda knew her limits. Her mum’s battle with alcohol had taught her to have them securely in place.

“Sorry.” Jack looked away, as if he could read her mind. “Hey, you called your mum yet?”

“Yes, I have.” She bristled at his nagging. “As usual, she was at the club with her latest fling.”

“Gross. At least you made the effort.” Jack kissed her forehead. “I’d better get back to work soon. Phone calls to monitor, tea to make, you know?”

“Such responsibilities.”

“You have no idea, Elderflower. I can’t just swan in and out like you. I have timesheets to check and cupboards to lock.”

They fell together, laughing. Just like old times, they could find the joke in the ups and downs of their daily grind. “I’ve got pins and needles.” She took a deep breath and lifted herself off the floor.

“Stamp your feet. But don’t make too much noise, or someone will find us.” Jack shoved the vodka bottle back in its box. “I’ll come and clear that away later.”

Elda hushed the voice in her head telling her that she was still a bit of a mess. A broken love life, a broken arm, and almost-finished paintings weren’t really a huge selling point in her career—or life—pitch. She ignored the fact that she was slumped on the storeroom floor of her office, chugging vodka from a bottle with her childhood best friend like she was stuck in her dysfunctional teenage years.

“I’m really excited for you, El,” Jack said.

“Me too. I just need to finish those canvases. Then who knows what might happen?” Elda bumped her fist against his bicep and followed him out into the corridor, stifling a giggle.