The New Girl: An addictive and gripping psychological thriller by M. I. Hattersley

Author:M. I. Hattersley [Hattersley, M. I.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Corridor Books
Published: 2022-11-21T16:00:00+00:00

23

Nicole’s ice-blonde hair was scraped back in a high ponytail and the bathroom’s fluorescent lighting highlighted her razor cheekbones and wide jawline. Coupled with her pale skin and the crisp white shirt and grey utilitarian skirt she was wearing, she looked vaguely Gestapo-esque. Intimidating.

“I never heard you come in,” Jade said. Her voice wavered as her mind raced on ahead of her.

Had Nicole heard her talking with Sofia just now? Had she said anything incriminating? She couldn’t remember.

“My eye was sore. I came in here to take my lens out,” Nicole said. “I really should get disposables. These gas-permeable buggers give me nothing but grief.”

“Right. Yes.” Jade hadn’t moved. “I don’t wear lenses. Or glasses.”

Nicole raised her chin, elongating her already swan-like neck. “Lucky you.”

“I was just on a call,” Jade said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at the recently exited stall. “A personal call. A bit naughty, I know. But it was sort of important and I didn’t want to take it at my desk.”

Nicole twisted her mouth to one side, like a bad actor selling the fact that they were thinking. “I thought you told everyone you didn’t have any family?”

Shit!

What had she said?

“How do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have been listening,” Nicole said. “But I couldn’t help it. You said something about your mum just now. Yet I’m certain you’ve been telling everyone both your parents are dead.”

“They are,” Jade lied, her mind spinning at a hundred miles an hour. “But you’re right, I did say mum. Because that’s what I call her. It’s my friend’s mum really, but she’s been like a mum to me. I call her mum, but it’s like a nickname. A pet name.”

Nicole didn’t look convinced. “Where did you say you were from again?”

“I was born in Bromley, but I grew up in North London. Chalk Farm.”

“Right, yes. And you went to Saint Martins. Graduating…when? Two-thousand and eleven?”

Jade nodded. This was all true, but she didn’t like where it was going. “Then I worked as a buyer and then a junior assistant at Gartons, before getting the fashion assistant job at Tres Chic and moving to New York.” She raised her chin. “I can email you a copy of my resume if you’re interested?”

Jade held Nicole's gaze as prickly heat ran down her arms. Keep it together, she told herself.

Nicole smiled. “Don’t be silly. I was curious, that’s all. It must have been amazing working at Tres Chic.”

“Yes. It was.” Jade moved over to the sink and turned on the hot tap. Her reflection in the mirror appeared calm and friendly, but inside she felt like a coiled spring. “I loved working there. But I also know I've made the right decision to move back to England. This is my home.”

“Yes. And you’ve got your surrogate mother here.”

“Absolutely.” She tapped some soap into her palm from the dispenser and washed her hands, all the while sensing Nicole’s icy stare burning into the side of her head. Twisting off the tap, she shook the excess water off her hands before straightening up and turning around.

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