Read Online The Cinderella Reflex by Johanna Buchanan - Free Book Online
Authors: Johanna Buchanan
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She raised her eyebrows in mock panic. “It’s all go these days. But it’s been good to meet you, Helene. And thanks for this.” She waved Helene’s report in the air.
“It’s been good to meet you too,” Helene said automatically. She watched while Paulina gathered her things and got up to leave, and she kept her composure intact until her blonde head had finally disappeared from sight.
Then she slumped in her chair, a feeling of foreboding flooding through her. “
If someone’s face doesn’t fit, Jack wouldn’t be long in telling them
.” That’s what Paulina had said! Suddenly Helene was gripped by panic that it would be her face that didn’t fit into Jack McCabe’s vision for Atlantic 1 FM. What if she ended up unemployed? And alone, after Richard dumped her because she was a visible
failure
? And homeless because she wouldn’t be able to afford the mortgage? What if she ended up on the streets with all her stuff on a supermarket trolley, like a bag lady? What if ...
Stop! A small, saner part of Helene’s mind intervened. She tried hard to obey it. She took deep slow breaths, trying to stop her thoughts from careering out of control. She would be okay. Of course, she would. But she couldn’t stop herself from comparing her circumstances to Paulina’s. While the other woman had appeared to be sure of herself, and contented – fulfilled at work, financially secure, and able to eat huge chunks of cake without giving one thought to its calorie count – she, Helene, was looking at life through a much different lens. Up until now, she had always thought of herself as an independent career woman. She earned her own money. She had bought her own apartment. She even had staff working for her! But now, in the cold light of possible redundancy, Helene realised that in actual fact she only had enough money in the bank to maintain her present lifestyle for a few months at most.
She remembered Paulina had said that Jack would be generous with severance payments but what good was that to Helene? Whatever he paid, it was hardly going to last the rest of her life. And what about her identity? If she wasn’t Helene Harper, executive editor of Atlantic 1 FM, who was she? She was an almost-forty-year-old woman, that was who, in a complicated relationship with her married boss and with very little energy or inclination for starting over.
Helene looked around her, as if for inspiration, and her gaze rested on the bookshelves lining the walls of the Travel Cafe. Out of the blue she remembered a book she
had
read many years ago. Called
The Cinderella Complex
, by an author called Colette Dowling, it was all about how perfectly intelligent women failed to secure their own futures because they were still subconsciously waiting for a man to come and rescue them.
Helene had read it for work and she’d thought it was pretty interesting at the time. But not interesting enough, she thought ruefully, for her to have picked up on any of its tips or suggestions! But of course at that stage she hadn’t felt it held any special resonance for
her
.
It was only now, with the twenty-twenty vision of hindsight that she realised that of course it had. Because here she was, a dozen years later, without the savings plan, the pension, the investments that Paulina had so casually listed earlier on.
In fact, Helene thought, panic rising up in her again, all she had to show for years of effort was a wall-to-wall wardrobe bulging with clothes and shoes and products
.
Anti-ageing serums, primers, hair stuff. They all promised miracles and delivered absolutely nothing apart from a short feel-good factor and lots of shiny boxes.
In truth, Helene had always thought Richard was going to be her pension. But was he? Or was she now that walking cliché: a woman having an affair with a married man who was having cold feet about leaving his wife?
The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts. She grabbed it out of her pocket, glad of the
“It’s been good to meet you too,” Helene said automatically. She watched while Paulina gathered her things and got up to leave, and she kept her composure intact until her blonde head had finally disappeared from sight.
Then she slumped in her chair, a feeling of foreboding flooding through her. “
If someone’s face doesn’t fit, Jack wouldn’t be long in telling them
.” That’s what Paulina had said! Suddenly Helene was gripped by panic that it would be her face that didn’t fit into Jack McCabe’s vision for Atlantic 1 FM. What if she ended up unemployed? And alone, after Richard dumped her because she was a visible
failure
? And homeless because she wouldn’t be able to afford the mortgage? What if she ended up on the streets with all her stuff on a supermarket trolley, like a bag lady? What if ...
Stop! A small, saner part of Helene’s mind intervened. She tried hard to obey it. She took deep slow breaths, trying to stop her thoughts from careering out of control. She would be okay. Of course, she would. But she couldn’t stop herself from comparing her circumstances to Paulina’s. While the other woman had appeared to be sure of herself, and contented – fulfilled at work, financially secure, and able to eat huge chunks of cake without giving one thought to its calorie count – she, Helene, was looking at life through a much different lens. Up until now, she had always thought of herself as an independent career woman. She earned her own money. She had bought her own apartment. She even had staff working for her! But now, in the cold light of possible redundancy, Helene realised that in actual fact she only had enough money in the bank to maintain her present lifestyle for a few months at most.
She remembered Paulina had said that Jack would be generous with severance payments but what good was that to Helene? Whatever he paid, it was hardly going to last the rest of her life. And what about her identity? If she wasn’t Helene Harper, executive editor of Atlantic 1 FM, who was she? She was an almost-forty-year-old woman, that was who, in a complicated relationship with her married boss and with very little energy or inclination for starting over.
Helene looked around her, as if for inspiration, and her gaze rested on the bookshelves lining the walls of the Travel Cafe. Out of the blue she remembered a book she
had
read many years ago. Called
The Cinderella Complex
, by an author called Colette Dowling, it was all about how perfectly intelligent women failed to secure their own futures because they were still subconsciously waiting for a man to come and rescue them.
Helene had read it for work and she’d thought it was pretty interesting at the time. But not interesting enough, she thought ruefully, for her to have picked up on any of its tips or suggestions! But of course at that stage she hadn’t felt it held any special resonance for
her
.
It was only now, with the twenty-twenty vision of hindsight that she realised that of course it had. Because here she was, a dozen years later, without the savings plan, the pension, the investments that Paulina had so casually listed earlier on.
In fact, Helene thought, panic rising up in her again, all she had to show for years of effort was a wall-to-wall wardrobe bulging with clothes and shoes and products
.
Anti-ageing serums, primers, hair stuff. They all promised miracles and delivered absolutely nothing apart from a short feel-good factor and lots of shiny boxes.
In truth, Helene had always thought Richard was going to be her pension. But was he? Or was she now that walking cliché: a woman having an affair with a married man who was having cold feet about leaving his wife?
The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts. She grabbed it out of her pocket, glad of the
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