‘Yeah, well, that’s the plan, but it would be a lot easier to do that if I got some PR experience. It would give me loads more credibility. I could get the job here and then find a PR job in London. Meet some influential people who could help with my career. It’s actually quite perfect. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be a hairdresser. That’s your dream, isn’t it? And you’d be so good at it. You’re such a creative person, Zo.’ She squeezes my arm.

I suddenly realise that my short-lived dream of a new and exciting career in PR might be over before it’s begun. I doubt whether I’m good enough to get this job when people like Cassie will also be applying. Of course, I’ll still go for it and give it my best shot, but – realistically – what chance do I really have of landing it? While Cassie’s face is radiant with excitement, my earlier optimism is crumbling by the second, my stomach knotting up with doubt. I hadn’t realised how much I wanted the job until now.

Fourteen

NOW

‘Oh my goodness, Zoe, it’s so lovely to see you! It’s been far too long!’ Cassie Barrington sweeps into the salon, her curly blonde tresses cascading over the shoulders of her pale-pink faux-fur coat. Everyone’s head swivels in our – or should I say her – direction. She’s always had that effect on people. Jennifer in particular is thrilled about Cassie’s hair appointment at Waves, and I don’t blame her. The salon is crazily busy in the run up to Christmas, but thanks to Cassie’s visit, Jennifer will now be able to create some great publicity in the slower months of January and February.

‘Hi, Cassie, how are you?’ I force out a smile, sure she must sense my insincerity.

‘Oh, you know, same old. But, more importantly, how are you? I can’t believe I’m here, back in our lovely little town!’ She dimples, leaning in to kiss my cheek, and I’m obliged to reciprocate, catching a waft of something expensive and seductive. Noticing at the same time that her skin is smoother than my nine-year-old daughter’s. The last time I had a proper conversation with Cassie was back when we were at college together. Of course, she also came to my wedding, but we barely spoke that day, or if we did, I don’t remember. She doesn’t look as if she’s aged at all since then. In fact, she looks younger, if that’s possible. Fresher. Sleeker.

Our receptionist Mia takes Cassie’s coat and helps her into a gown. It’s obvious Mia’s starstruck by the way she’s gawking. Cassie thanks her graciously with a flash of perfectly white teeth, that somehow manage to not be too white.