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rid of you.’
    ‘You don’t know what I feel like at the moment,’ Paul intoned. ‘I haven’t felt this bad since my dad died.’
    ‘You’re one of the best copywriters around. You’re too good at what you do for someone not to want you.’
    ‘Thanks for that but I’ve already had enough bullshit for the day.’
    ‘It wasn’t bullshit. It’s true. But I can understand how you feel.’
    ‘No you can’t, Amy,’ he corrected her, butting in. ‘You have absolutely no idea at all how I feel.’
    He sighed.
    ‘Who else knows?’ she enquired.
    ‘Who was I going to tell? It’s not exactly the kind of thing you want to shout from the rooftops, is it? ButI’m sure that a few people will be smiling when they find out.’
    ‘Like who? Who’s going to be pleased that you’ve lost your job?’
    ‘Oh, come on, Amy. I’ve always been so fucking sure of myself. Like I was invincible. Don’t tell me there aren’t some people who’ll be having a quiet giggle when they see what’s happened to me.’
    ‘You only feel like this because you’ve just found out. When you’ve had a night’s sleep and had time to consider your options, you’ll feel better.’
    ‘What fucking options? Trail around other ad agencies begging for a job, hoping that I’ve got something to offer that the thousands of other guys in the same position as me haven’t got or go and sign on? Great.’
    There was another long silence finally broken by Paul.
    ‘I’m sorry, Amy, but I’m not really in the mood for a chat at the moment. Perhaps you’d better call me tomorrow,’ he sighed.
    ‘How does this affect our plans?’ she wanted to know.
    ‘Plans?’
    ‘You know what I mean.’
    ‘Not now, Amy.’
    ‘But we were going to talk about it when I got home.’
    ‘Then that’s what we’ll do, talk when you get home.
    Not now.’
    ‘But we’d decided, Paul.’
    ‘That was before I lost my fucking job, wasn’t it? Just drop it, will you?’
    ‘I think I’d better go,’ she told him sternly.
    ‘That might be best.’
    ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
    ‘I’ll be here. I’ve got nowhere else to go.’
    There was a loud hiss of static on the line.
    ‘Amy?’ he said, fearing he’d lost the connection.
    She said something that he didn’t hear. He only heard his voice drift through the crackling.
    ‘Amy. Say that again,’ he urged.
    He was sure the line was dead.

11
     
    Frank Hacket thought about ignoring the ringing mobile. He looked at the name displayed on the screen, waited a moment longer then answered.
    ‘Hello, Gina,’ he said, trying to inject a note of enthusiasm into his voice. ‘I can’t talk for long, I’m just finishing my break.’
    ‘I know that,’ his wife told him from the other end of the line.
    ‘I assumed you’d be outside having a fag and playing with one of your scratch cards.’
    ‘Am I that predictable?’
    ‘Yes,’ she told him humourlessly
.
    ‘Well, we haven’t won anything so don’t get your hopes up,’ he told her.
    ‘I stopped hoping years ago, Frank,’ she announced.
    Hacket rolled his eyes and was about to say something when Gina continued.
    ‘I was just ringing to ask you to bring some milk home with you when you come,’ she instructed him. ‘Four pints should be enough. And some cigarettes for me.’
    ‘How many?’
    ‘Forty.’
    ‘I got you twenty only yesterday. Are you smoking them two at a time? I’ve got plenty. Why can’t you smoke mine until tomorrow?’
    ‘I don’t like the ones you smoke. You know that.’
    ‘Couldn’t you have picked some up yourself while you were out? You did go out this morning didn’t you?’
    ‘I didn’t want to be late getting back. Laura will be home soon. I don’t like her coming back to an empty house.’
    ‘She’ll have to when you get a job.’
    ‘Well, that’s not just yet, is it? For the time being I want to be here when she gets home.’
    ‘Where did you go this morning?’
    ‘Just to the town. I had to get a