Right, Ive got it all figured out! Hannah swept an unruly strand out of her face, her eyes sparkling. Well start our own business and finally make it big! Im sick of grafting for someone else time to earn for ourselves!
Emily burst out laughing, curling her legs beneath her as she settled further into the battered old sofa. Out the window of her tiny London flat, Sunday dusk was slowly wrapping up, and a forgotten mug of tea sat cooling on the coffee table. These chats about our own thing had been cropping up between them for years, usually on the tail end of a bottle of wine or after a particularly rubbish week at work. And every single time, thats as far as it went.
Hannah, we must have had this same chat a hundred times, Emily waved her hand with a grin. Remember when you were dead set on that bakery last year? And before that opening a flower shop?
This is different! Hannah leaned in, voice urgent. Remember my cousin, Linda? I told you about her? She started a nail salon for just twenty grand. Twenty grand, Em! And in four months she was already in the black!
Four months? Emily raised an eyebrow. Is that even possible?
Swear to God! Hannah nodded energetically. Quit her city job, opened a second salon, now shes absolutely minted. Only regret she has is not going for it sooner.
Emily twiddled her spoon in the cold tea, a little lost in thought. It all sounded a bit too dreamy, but Hannahs hope was so infectious that it wasnt as easy to wave her off as usual.
So, what exactly are you thinking?
We can scrape together the twenty grand between us, cant we? Hannah scooted closer, brimming with plans. Ive got my business degree Ill handle the paperwork, accounts, all the boring admin. Youre a people person, Em, youd be amazing with clients and running the place!
Hannah, thats a huge amount of money, Emily shook her head. Ten grand thats literally all my savings. Everything Ive put away.
Mine too! Hannah said earnestly. You think its easy for me? But its an investment in our future! Picture it: in a year, our own salon, real income, no more bosses breathing down our necks.
Emily kept quiet, just looking at her friend. Theyd been mates for fifteen years, since school. Hannah had never let her down. Not once.
Do you really think we can pull it off? Emily asked softly.
I believe it, Hannah quickly covered her hand with hers. I wouldnt have brought it up otherwise.
A week later Emily found herself at the bank, filling out a transfer form. Ten thousand pounds. The number made her heart twist inside her chest. All shed saved in four years of slogging away as an office manager. Her phone buzzed a message from Hannah: You sending it? Ive already found three possible places for the salon! Well go see them tomorrow!
Emily took a deep breath and hit Confirm. Gone just like that. The money shifted from her life savings into something shapeless: a hope, a dream, a future painted in bright colours by her best friend. Emily wanted so badly to believe in it.
The first week whizzed past in a blur of excited texts. Hannah sent photos of prospective locations, links to equipment, quotes from suppliers. Look at these chairs I found! Almost new owners closing up shop and selling dirt-cheap! she messaged at one in the morning.
Found the perfect spot right next to the station popping round to view it tomorrow morning! came another.
Emily read the texts on her way into work each day, and she couldnt help but smile. Everything seemed to be rolling out better than planned. Hannah was on fire, her excitement practically buzzing through the phone.
In the second week, though, the messages started drying up.
Loads of paperwork and chasing things up, Hannah explained. Ill fill you in soon.
Emily understood English red tape could make anyone tear their hair out. She didnt pester, didnt worry, waited for updates.
Then Hannah went silent.
First day, Emily assumed she was just busy. The next day, she messaged:
Hannah, hows it all going? Any news?
The message stayed unread. On the third day, Emily rang but got nothing but a monotone female voice: Sorry, this number is currently unavailable.
By Friday, worry sat like a stone in her stomach. She checked Hannahs social media every half-hour, desperately hoping for any sign of life. Nothing. Her last post: eight days old.
Maybe somethings happened an accident? Hospital? Ive got to do something.
Saturday morning, Emily marched across town to Hannahs rented place. Shed been there countless times, knew every creaky step and that broken bulb in the corridor.
She stopped at the battered old door and knocked hard. The sound rang down the corridor, but there was only silence behind the door. Emily pressed her ear to the cold wood nothing. No footsteps, no kettle boiling, no telly in the background.
You after someone? croaked a voice behind her.
Emily spun round. The neighbours door was cracked open, and an elderly woman with sharp eyes peeked out.
Im looking for Hannah Hannah Bright. She lives here, Emily said, swallowing.
Lived, the old woman pursed her lips. Moved out a week ago, maybe a bit more.
Moved? To where? Emily gripped the banister for support.
How would I know? The neighbour shrugged her thin shoulders. Saw her carting bags out late one evening. Asked if she was off on holiday. She just muttered something and left. Not seen her since.
Emily just stood there on the landing, rooted to the spot. Shed gone. Moved out a week ago. No warning, no goodbye, no new address left behind.
You alright, dear? The neighbours voice was a faint echo as Emily stared, stunned.
She walked out on shaky legs. She rang Hannahs number again the same message: Number unavailable.
Ten grand. All her savings. Gone, just like that along with Hannah.
Emily leaned against the rough brick and just breathed deeply, fighting the rising panic. After a minute she straightened up, called for a cab.
She knew where to look next. Hannahs parents lived across town in a quiet neighbourhood near the big park. Emily had been there for Hannahs birthday a few years back, remembered the leafy garden and the swings, Hannahs warm-hearted mum with her endless cakes, and her gentle dad tucked away with a paperback.
If anyone knew where Hannah was, itd be them.
The door opened almost as soon as Emily arrived, as if Mrs. Bright had been waiting for someone. She certainly hadnt expected Emily, though her face had aged a decade.
Emily? Mrs. Bright stepped back, letting her in. Come through.
Inside, the house was oddly quiet, not a sound from the kitchen, no music playing. Just the ticking of the old clock and someone shuffling in the other room.
Did Hannah take money from you too? Mrs Bright got straight to the point.
Emily froze. You too?
We were going to open a business a nail salon, Emily managed to say. She told me her cousin
Theres no cousin, Mrs Bright said bitterly. Come on, sit down.
Emily sat on the familiar old kitchen chair, remembering happier gatherings here, with laughter and the smell of baking.
Theres no cousin, Mrs Bright repeated, lowering herself across the table. And theres no business. Theres an Anthony Hannahs new boyfriend. Hes up to his neck in debt, and she tried to bail him out.
I dont understand Emilys hands knotted in her lap.
Whats to understand? Mrs Bright shrugged toward the window. She lied to all of us. At least a dozen people. Told some it was a salon, others it was investments, made up all sorts. Gathered up the money and did a runner with Anthony. Changed her number, doesnt reply to anyone.
Emily was stunned. Hannah her Hannah, who shed been through everything with for fifteen years had really just conned her out of ten grand for some guy?
Ive had three other people ring me up, Mrs Bright went on. Threatened court action. And they should, really. But whats the point? Hannahs disappeared, and me and her dad have nothing left.
What do you mean, nothing left? Emily finally said.
I mean our lifes savings, Emily. Even took what we put aside for our funerals, for a rainy day. Cleared us out. Didnt think of anyone but that man of hers.
Emily sat quietly, lost for words.
Im so sorry, she managed, getting up.
Mrs Bright just nodded, not leaving her seat. Emily let herself out and slipped quietly onto the landing. The door clicked softly shut behind her.
Outside, rain had started drizzling thin, cold needles that worked their way under Emilys collar, but she didnt notice. She crossed rain-spattered pavements, stepping round puddles, thinking.
Fifteen years of friendship. Whispered notes in maths class, midnight calls, first crushes and first heartbreaks, crappy first jobs. Theyd survived it all together. Emily trusted Hannah more than anyone in the world. And Hannah had just gone. Betrayed her, smashed their friendship, vanished without looking back.
Ten thousand pounds. Could take her to court, like the others. Find a lawyer, file a report, spend months in hearings.
At the corner, Emily stopped and tipped her face to the grey sky. The rain mixed with the tears she couldnt hold in.
No. She wouldnt go to court. Not because shed forgiven Hannah you cant forgive something like that. She just couldnt spare another moment on her. Besides, it would be almost impossible to prove anything shed made that bank transfer of her own free will. No contracts, nothing in writing.
Let what Hannah did stay on her conscience forever.
Former friend. Such an odd term for someone youve known half your life. Emily wiped her face with a cold, damp hand and carried on walking. She didnt have a best friend anymore.
