Val was a friend of a friend of a friend and she’d been living with Lucy almost a year now. She was a nice person, Lucy’s primary criterion, but she was also a bit of a homebody, which meant that Lucy was rarely alone in her own home.

And now it smelled like feet.

“So, what was particularly difficult about your day?” asked Val. A cream-coloured blob wrapped in muslin hung from the wooden spoon she was now balancing over the bowl. Val looked well-pleased with herself and Lucy supposed it was fair when she’d made cheese—from scratch.

Lucy sighed and took a hefty swig of wine. Did she want to go through the ins and outs of her shockingly bad day? And with Val? This was probably better nutted out with Chloe, or even Jules. But Val was there, and she was a good listener—as she’d evidenced many times. And, really, it would probably feel good to tell someone.

“It’s my manager …” she began. Val set the bowl to the side, washed her hands, and came and joined Lucy on the sofa, bringing her wine with her.

“Is this the woman you said you’re unsure about? The one that just started?”

“Yes, that’s right, her.”

“So, what’s happened, then?” Val peered at her intently.

“Well, I thought we were just finding our way with each other, you know, testing the waters? But after today, it’s clear that she thinks I’m an incompetent nitwit.”

As Lucy spoke, Val leapt up for top-ups from time to time until she’d shaken the last drops from the bottle and dropped it into the recycling bin. She listened without interruption to Lucy’s litany of workplace crimes—all perpetrated by a woman called Angela, who tended towards micro-management, belittling Lucy in senior meetings and, today, undermining Lucy in front of her team.

“Hmm,” Val said, when Lucy had exhausted her tales of woe. She tapped her chin and seemed to mull over her response thoughtfully before settling on, “She sounds like a proper cow.”

It was said with such earnestness that Lucy found it incredibly funny—or perhaps it was the wine that caused the eruption of giggles. Either way, both women succumbed to fits of laugher and soon Lucy was wiping away tears—the good kind.

“Ooh,” she said, expelling a long breath. “I needed that. Thanks, Val. It did help to talk it through.”

“No need to thank me, Lucy. I feel awful for you. You love your job—well, you did. I hope it all gets sorted soon.” It was a nice sentiment, but Lucy doubted it.

While Lucy had worked in the finance department of the legal firm for eleven years, Angela had only just been hired and, apparently, she was there to “shake things up”. Lucy was starting to wonder if that was just corporate speak for “make everybody miserable”.

“Shall I order a curry?” asked Val. “Or something else? It’s on me.”

Well, this was a first. “That sounds great, Val. I don’t even have the energy to heat up a Marks & Sparks ready meal.”