Page 3 of The Life Experiment

So, Layla became a lawyer. And not just any lawyer, but a corporate lawyer living in the capital. Sure, Layla once pictured herself defending the rights of refugees or victims of crime, not helping millionaires hoard their wealth, but still, she had made her childhood dream come true.

Layla had been taught from an early age that if you worked hard, you succeeded. If you worked hard, then the place you were born, the school you attended, and the rank of your social class meant nothing.

But if hard work is the answer, why am I getting nowhere? Layla wondered. It was a thought so toxic she wanted to shake her head to dislodge it.

As she popped a salt and vinegar crisp in her mouth, Layla studied Sinead.

Dark circles shadowed her colleague’s eyes, the bags so embedded that even her expensive concealer struggled to hide them.

Layla knew for a fact Sinead hadn’t eaten lunch either.

It was sad, really. When Sinead joined the firm eight months ago, bright-eyed and fresh from Dublin, she had been the life and soul of the party.

‘Always up for the craic,’ as she used to put it.

Looking at her now, the only thing Sinead looked up for was an early night.

‘Wasn’t it your anniversary yesterday?’ Layla asked, crunching on another crisp.

Sinead groaned. ‘Don’t remind me.’

‘What happened?’

‘What always happens – we had plans, but I didn’t leave here until after nine.’

‘I take it Kirstie wasn’t impressed?’

‘Would you be if you had to cancel a reservation at La Rosa at the last minute?’

‘Ouch,’ Rashida winced, but Layla said nothing. For her, romantic dinners were a distant memory.

‘If you go now, you could still make a night of it,’ Layla suggested. ‘Grab some wine and surprise Kirstie. You too, Rashida. Syed might be asleep, but Aaron won’t be. When did you two last have a date night?’

‘A date night? What’s that?’ Rashida joked.

‘Point proven, so go!’

Temptation danced in Rashida’s eyes, but her shoulders slumped. ‘I can’t. The deadline is Friday and—’

‘I’ll do it,’ Layla interjected. ‘I’m staying late anyway, what difference does it make? Seriously, go. We don’t all have to be miserable.’

Sinead glanced at the time. ‘There is that bottle of wine in the fridge…’

‘Perfect! Share it with Kirstie. Rashida, go watch a film with Aaron. Enjoy yourselves.’

Sinead wavered. ‘Are you sure?’

As Layla nodded, Rashida’s left hand hovered above the camel-coloured coat hung on the back of her chair. ‘You really don’t need any help? Because I can take my laptop and—’

‘Don’t even think about it. Go, both of you, before I get angry at you for dithering.’

Sinead and Rashida didn’t need telling again. Coats and handbags grabbed, they headed for the exit in a flurry of thank yous and promises to repay the favour.

When they were gone, a lonely silence echoed through the wood-panelled office.

Pulling her attention back to her laptop, Layla tried to focus, but the words danced around the screen. Even when she rubbed her bleary eyes, they wouldn’t comply. Sighing, she slipped her phone from her pocket and headed to social media for a moment of respite.

As soon as she opened Instagram, Layla wished she hadn’t. The first picture on her feed was of Taylina Dare wearing an impossibly small bikini while lounging beside a glorious ocean.

Envy bit Layla’s throat. Taylina had been in her year at school.

A toxic mix of airhead and bully, Taylina had discovered that when you’re beautiful, you can be both and still be adored.

Her career since her school days was testimony to that.

After amassing a large online following and marrying the footballer she met on series three of Love Shack , Taylina was sickeningly rich, even though she’d never known a late night stuck behind a desk

Frustrated, Layla went to close the app, but something caught her eye before she could… An advert asking Layla the question she often asked herself.

Do you ever wonder where your life is heading?

‘Only all day, every day,’ Layla muttered.

Curiosity piqued, Layla read on. Her skin prickled. The advert felt like it was written for her. Like it somehow knew exactly what thoughts she was avoiding.

Was she on the right path or was she as lost as she felt?

Would all this be worth it one day, or was she wasting her time on something that would never provide the happiness and security she was searching for?

Layla sat with her misery for a moment before shaking her head. ‘This is ridiculous,’ she muttered. So what if the questions felt like they had been plucked from her mind? The pull she felt wasn’t fate or divine intervention – it was a skilled copywriter’s script.

And an experiment, really? Layla was so busy with work she couldn’t find time to cook dinner, never mind commit to a ten-week experiment.

Besides, someone else would benefit from the opportunity more.

A ￡3,000 boost to her non-existent savings would be nice, as would using the money to pay off some of her parents’ debt, but it wasn’t enough to make the commitment worthwhile.

Decision made, Layla went to lock her phone, but at that moment an email pinged into her inbox. The subject line read: Looks like it will be another late one .

Layla’s heart dropped like a stone down a well. She didn’t have to read the email to know what it said. Another insane deadline. Another night of overtime she wasn’t paid for.

Another night of asking what the hell she was doing with her life.

Biting back a sigh, Layla skimmed the ad once more. ‘Fuck it,’ she said, before clicking the link to apply.