The Grass is Greener Read Free Page B

he’s just the sort of feather I want in your cap.’
    She was beginning feel that this so-called ‘cap’ she was wearing was more like a shackle round her ankle.
    â€˜So tell me all about him,’ Claudia urged.
    â€˜He’s, er … nice.’ He had no sense of humour to speak of and was far more interested in himself than her, but perhaps that was just being too fussy. She’d only seen him twice, after all. Maybe she hadn’t given him a good enough chance.
    â€˜ Nice ?’ Claudia repeated, her expression so horrified that Bronwyn felt compelled to add with a slight cough, ‘Very nice.’
    â€˜Like a hot cup of tea?’ Claudia raised her eyebrows.
    â€˜No, not hot. More like lukewarm.’
    â€˜Okay, girl,’ Claudia flattened her palms on the table, ‘you know when you said before you hated your life? Now I believe you.’
    Bronwyn grinned. ‘Why? Because I’m not desperately in love?’
    â€˜Well, you need to feel something more than lukewarm,’ Claudia protested. ‘Remember when we were in university and we made a list of things we wanted in our ideal man?’
    It was Bronwyn’s turn to laugh. ‘The Checklist. You still remember that?’
    â€˜Hey. It’s all I have to keep me warm at night at the moment. You remember the fantasy, right?’
    â€˜No,’ Bronwyn lied.
    â€˜Come on, The Checklist’s only got five things on it.’ Claudia tapped her chin. ‘He has to be one of the boys, a real lad but deep down incredibly romantic; smart, like wickedly intelligent; easygoing; great sense of humour and, of course, chronically good-looking.’ She tilted her head with a secret smile. ‘I’ve added blond specifically to that last point, because I do like a man with a fair head.’
    â€˜You always have, haven’t you?’ Bronwyn smiled. Claudia’s last three boyfriends had been blond, all lads, smart and funny. ‘You definitely have a type,’ she nodded seriously. ‘I don’t know why it’s not working for you.’
    Claudia sighed. ‘Because lads want to be lads. They don’t want commitment or a serious relationship. Is it so wrong that I want the whole nine yards?’
    â€˜Don’t we all,’ Bronwyn groaned wistfully. ‘But honestly, I don’t have much time for falling in love. I don’t have much time for anything really.’ She worked nearly twelve hours most days and usually all weekend. Her apartment was sparse, not because she couldn’t afford to fill it with stuff but because she had no time to shop. Her fridge was empty but her freezer was full of microwave meals. And she was the thinnest she’d ever been due to a lack of food, not exercise.
    She couldn’t remember the last movie she’d watched.
    The last book she’d read.
    Or the last walk she’d taken.
    The thing with law was, once it got a hook into your life, it started worming its way into every aspect – all in an attempt to be impressive.
    Bring in new clients.
    You’re impressive.
    Have no life.
    You’re impressive.
    Stay back later than everyone else.
    You’re impressive.
    The problem with being an Eddings was that you were expected to be more impressive than everyone else. Sometimes, the pressure of living up to the assumption that she was a cut above the rest became too much. In fact, the expectations of her colleagues were occasionally more gruelling than the actual casework itself. If she’d known that this was what her life was going to be like after she left university, she probably would have rebelled earlier.
    â€˜Still,’ Claudia shrugged, ‘I’d trade places with you in a second. Do you know how difficult it is to meet guys when you live with your parents and your father has a shotgun?’
    Bronwyn smiled. ‘I’d be lucky if my father cared where I was, let alone who I