I would stop. Kill Nora off once and for all.

But I needed a back-up plan, or at the very least a back-up bank balance to see me into the next venture.

I wasn’t ready.

And then I remembered the email from Lucy, the enthusiastic wannabe-intern, prepared to help me out however she’d be most useful. I wondered what colour hair she had. Whether she’d be up for a revamp?

Two weeks later Lucy joined Team Nora. It turned out she was sticking with the mahogany hair, almost the exact same shade as mine, but according to Kathy, on Lucy it was a tone that spoke of ageless glamour, not aged grandma. But all other aspects of Nora’s brand got a reboot with Lucy more than happy to act out my YouTube scripts, as well as taking over Nora’s social media accounts.

I hadn’t realised how lonely life as a self-employed mudslinger had been until I had someone to share it with, and it was such absolute bliss that I convinced myself to overlook how Lucy played on the image of Nasty Nora. I traded in my unease for the joy of having someone to stand in the corner with at parties. To crack open a bottle of wine and eagerly discuss what invites to accept, decline or wait and see if we felt like turning up on the day. To have a friend, even if she was paid to be one. As momentum built, we started noticing the nods in her direction when we attended events and soon, to all intents and purposes, Nora became split between the two of us: I wrote, she swanned about in the eye-wateringly expensive clothes that people sent Nora. I contemplated going back to doing the restaurant reviews alone, in order to ensure anonymity, but then Lucy adopted a wig and a smile so bright that no one would mistake her for Nora Sharp.

As an intern I didn’t pay her much, but she got plenty of nights out and more clothes, bags and kitchen implements than even the two of us could make use of (so we often sold them on and split the difference). I also provided a generous allowance for her to maintain the requested ‘spruced-up’ image.

So, she got all the attention, I got to keep writing. A perfect partnership.

And then the messages started arriving.

And things started to fall apart…

6

I knew I had to start sorting things out so first I contacted my landlord and terminated my lease. I should call Miles and explain that Lucy wrote the latest article, and that she’d probably be happy to keep going if he asked her. I should call my parents and tell them I planned to stay at Charlie’s farmhouse for a while. And once I’d done all that, I should probably think about what the hell I was going to do with the rest of my life.

Instead, I did something that felt even more revolutionary. I donned my coat, hat and the sturdiest boots I could find in my bags. I opened the front door, breathed in a huge, crisp lungful of January air and stepped into the winter sunshine.