Say Hello and Wave Goodbye Read online

  Five minutes before my meeting time I trot down the office to Em’s office to make sure I arrive a couple of minutes early instead of practically running down there at the last minute. I rap lightly on the door and then open it and say a cheery good morning with a bright smile plastered on my face. I get a tight-lipped good morning back with the merest hint of upturned lips which is Em’s attempt at a smile. A quick glance at the desk in the corner as I go in shows that Ed’s chair is empty – he hardly seems to spend any time in the office at all but I don’t know whether this is normal or not. I make a mental note to ask Trina, the fount of all office knowledge and important gossip.

  I can’t say that Em is any less icy towards me or that she’s becoming friendlier – I think she is what she is and we’re never going to be best chums – but I feel more comfortable with her. I think maybe she’s like this with everyone. I go in and settle myself down on the too small chair in front of her desk and listen as Em totally surprises me by launching straight into telling me how impressed she is with my spreadsheet.

  She’s not exactly gushing but she is very appreciative and while I bask in the praise, I do feel a bit of a cheat. It wasn’t anything different to what I used to do and once I’d set up the spreadsheet it pretty much did itself. I still have plenty of time to waste on the internet so it’s not as if I’m overrun with work. If I’m totally honest I’ve quite enjoyed having a bit more to do – it’s quite nice to get my teeth into something.

  I keep hold of the holiday request form that I have in my hand and bask for a bit longer before I give it to her. She’s in a good mood and appreciates what I’ve done so surely she won’t want to turn down my special request for three weeks holiday – any holiday over two weeks requires special permission from my line manager.

  Suspiciously, I’m also thinking that surely she’s not got me down here just to say thank you because she could have done that by email so I’m guessing that she has another ‘project’ for me. What she says next proves me right.

  ‘Rebecca,’ she says, ‘I wonder, in view of the excellent job you’ve done so far, would it be too much to ask for you to go back over the last two years’ figures and collate them all in the same way?’

  I look at her and frown slightly to make it appear as if I’m thinking about it as obviously it’s an awful lot to ask. It’s not a big ask at all and realistically I know that it’s not a request I can refuse but I don’t want to look like a complete pushover.

  ‘I think that’s do-able,’ I say thoughtfully whilst nodding my head. There’s something about Em and nodding that goes together, I can’t seem to stop myself.

  ‘Excellent,’ she says briskly. ‘Super. If you could email it to me when it’s completed that would be good, and I know it’s going to take some time, so no rush. But obviously, the sooner the better.’

  More thoughtful nodding from me. So it is a rush job but she’s trying not to put the pressure on. I know that it won’t take very long at all but I don’t tell her that. I decide now is the perfect time to produce my holiday form and I whisk it from my lap onto the desk in front of her with a flourish.

  ‘Can I leave you with my holiday form to authorise, Em?’ I give her a simpering tight-lipped smile. Don’t want to frighten her with all those teeth.

  She picks the form up slowly and I cross my fingers that she’ll okay it without a fuss. I suddenly realise how much I want to go to Australia with Mum and Dad and see my brother again.

  She picks her pen up and scribbles her signature on the bottom of the form.

  ‘Of course, no problem. Are you going somewhere nice?’ she asks with obvious disinterest, trying to be polite.

  ‘Australia.’ I beam in relief. ‘Me and my parents are going, my brother lives there and he’s throwing a big party for his fortieth. It’ll be the first time I’ve seen him in seven years.’ To my surprise I feel suddenly emotional and swallow down a huge lump in my throat. I’ve so missed him.

  ‘Australia?’ Em looks at me in surprise. ‘Are you sure three weeks is going to be enough? I know you have a lot of holidays carried over from last year so you could take longer if you wanted to. You’ve been with Atkinsons a fair few years so I’m sure Ed would sanction it.’ She turns and taps a few keys on her computer and studies the screen. ‘Yes, I thought so, you’ve two and a half weeks carried over from last year plus this years’ allocation of five weeks.’

  Longer? I’d never even considered it – for some reason I’d imagined three weeks was the absolute limit that I’d be allowed to take off work.

  ‘Well,’ I say hesitantly, ‘My parents are going for six weeks but of course they’re retired now so getting time off isn’t an issue for them.’

  Em picks up her pen and holds it over my holiday form.

  ‘It’s a very long flight, nearly twenty-four hours isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ I say, having no real idea at all. Why didn’t I listen properly when Mum and Dad were talking about it?

  Because you’re slapdash, barks the Beccabird, always have been, always will be.

  ‘A very long flight – you should surely make the most of it, shouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I should,’ I say, nodding again. ‘I would love to go for six weeks but I know that’s a very long time to request off work.’

  ‘It is a long time,’ agrees Em, ‘But you’re a long-serving, valued member of staff and I can’t see why Ed wouldn’t approve your request. Would you like me to amend your form and pass it on to him? He’s working from home today but I can email him and ask him to approve it as soon as possible so you can go ahead and book your flights.’

  I stare at Em in shock and hear myself mumble thank you . I think I’ve misjudged Em; underneath that cold exterior beats a huge heart of gold.

  ‘Shall I just add three more weeks on to the three you’ve already requested?’

  I nod dumbly.

  I watch as she amends my form with efficient pen strokes and then taps her fingers swiftly over her keyboard.

  ‘There, all done. I’ll let you know as soon as Ed replies.’

  ‘Lovely, thank you.’

  She gives me another tight-lipped smile and I wonder if I’ve been over gushing. She is a strange one.

  ‘So, you’ll let me know as soon as you’ve completed the spreadsheet we discussed?’ She looks at me expectantly.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I say, heaving myself out of the tiny chair as I swiftly realise that the meeting is now over. Honestly, what did I expect – a new friendship?

  Yeah you did , snaps you know who, someone’s nice to you and you think they’re your new best friend.

  Annoyingly, she’s right.

  I do feel uplifted as I stand upright on cramped knees to come out of the office – six weeks! Mum and Dad will be so thrilled – I’m so thrilled .

  And what I should have done was come out of Em’s office on this warm and fuzzy note and kept my big mouth shut but, as usual, when I’m winning and something is going well, I have to go and ruin it.

  ‘Em,’ I say, as I open the door to leave, ‘No doubt you’ve heard the rumours on the office grapevine, is it true that we’re merging with an American company? I wondered if that was the reason for the extra spreadsheet - do you need the statistics because of the merger?’

  As soon as I’ve uttered the words I know that I should have kept my big, fat gob firmly shut. Em’s usually deathly white complexion infuses with colour and her face became the most animated I’ve ever seen. Her mouth opens and closes silently like a goldfish and then she pulls herself together and jumps up from behind her desk and stares at me in horror.

  ‘Sit down!’ she hisses as I gawp at her in shock.

  I shuffle slowly back to the chair while she marches around the desk and stomps past me and out through the doorway and into the main office. She stands silently outside for a few moments and appears to be listening to see if anyone has heard what I’ve said.

  When she comes back in she closes
the door firmly and swishes past me and sits back down behind her desk.

  We face each other across the desk and I attempt a hesitant smile. It’s not returned.

  ‘So,’ she says unsmilingly, ‘Who told you?’

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stare at Em and wonder what the hell I’m going to say.

  ‘Well?’ she demands as I try to tear my eyes away from her fixed stare and realise that I can’t. A vision of my holiday form being ripped into a million pieces swims into view and I hear the distant cackle of the Beccabird laughing hysterically.

  ‘Um, I just heard a rumour, I can’t remember where,’ I stutter. ‘Knowing me I probably got it all wrong.’ I wave my hands around and give a half-hearted attempt at a laugh.

  ‘No.’ Em shakes her head. ‘Someone must have told you and I want to know who it was.’

  ‘So it’s true?’ I say in a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable.

  She sighs heavily. ‘It’s very sensitive information and there are very few people who know about it at this vital stage. The few people that do know definitely shouldn’t be repeating it because if word should leak into the media and the share price is affected…’ She gives a shudder before carrying on. ‘And although there will be an announcement very soon there’s no way that you should have found out about it.’ She glares at me expectantly .

  ‘I really can’t remember where it was I heard it, it was ages ago.’ I do some more hand flapping as if to prove it was years ago and therefore totally irrelevant.

  Em raises an eyebrow.

  ‘Ages ago? Then it’s even worse than I feared.’

  Oh God. As usual I’ve managed to make it even worse, what do I do? I can’t drop Jonathan in it, he could get into serious trouble. I also don’t want Em to know that I know Jonathan, or have to tell her about our history. I can see it all unravelling in front of me and yet again I curse my motor mouth.

  ‘Look,’ Em says, ‘I’m not blaming you but I do need to know who it was, I also need to know who else you’ve repeated it to.’

  ‘Oh, I haven’t told anyone,’ I say, almost truthfully.

  ‘That surprises me, because if you thought it was harmless gossip why wouldn’t you repeat it?’

  Good point, Em.

  ‘Well,’ I gabble, ‘When I heard it at first I didn’t think it was true because it was just an off the cuff remark that someone made, I didn’t have any details or anything. Then when I thought about it and thought that it might be true I did think that maybe it wasn’t for public consumption so I didn’t repeat it.’

  I’m about to add that there are rumours galore flying around the office but think better of it; no point in adding fuel to the flames. See, I can keep my mouth shut.

  ‘Rebecca…’ Em drums her fingers on my holiday form. ‘…I can understand that you don’t want to get anyone into trouble but I really need a name because it’s not fair that you should have to take the blame for someone else’s indiscretion.’

  Is she tapping my form to let me know that my six weeks holiday is hanging in the balance or am I imagining things? It sounds as if I’m definitely going to get blamed if I don’t tell her.

  But I’m not a snitch.

  ‘It was Jonathan Sayers,’ I hear myself say.

  Her eyes open a bit wider as she processes the information.

  ‘I wasn’t aware that you knew Jonathan,’ she states flatly but I know it’s a question and I’m going to have to explain.

  Are they an item? Jonathan’s always popping into her office – is it work or something more? If I say I hardly know him he’ll look like a complete blabbermouth.

  Why do you even care? questions the Beccabird, wings on hips, beak pursed.

  I don’t know; I should use this opportunity to get my own back on him, really stir it up and exaggerate and land him in the shit. But I’m not that sort of person, I can’t help the way I am.

  But I don’t care about him anymore I suddenly realise. The hold that he’s had over me for the last seven years has vanished; the fear that I’ll go running back to him and which stopped me from coming back to Frogham is no longer there. It’s totally disappeared and until this moment I hadn’t even noticed. A bubble of happiness fills me and I have a sudden urge to burst out laughing until Em clears her throat to remind me that I haven’t answered her. I’ll have to think about the not caring anymore thing later; for now, I need to get this over with and get out of this office with my six weeks holiday intact.

  ‘Jonathan and I lived together, a long time ago.’

  This time she can’t hide the surprise – or is it shock – from her face.

  ‘But we hadn’t seen each other for years, seven years actually,’ I go on, ‘And when we bumped into each other he insisted we went out for dinner and that’s when he said about the merger. I think he was just showing off and trying to impress me. And it was two weeks ago, so not that long ago really.’

  I can’t tell whether I’ve just made things worse or better. If they are an item he clearly hasn’t told her about me and I’ve just made him look like a cheat but if I tell her Flynn was also there he’ll look like even more of a blabbermouth. Whatever , I decide, I can’t be considering and second-guessing people forever. It’s not my secret to keep and the secret is out now.

  I open my mouth and speak before I can change my mind.

  ‘Well, actually, he didn’t tell me, he told my partner, Flynn, who was also there. It’s him he was aiming to impress, not me.’

  Her expression doesn’t change and I decide that Em would be excellent at playing poker.

  ‘Okay,’ she says eventually, ‘Thank you for telling me. It goes without saying that our conversation goes no further.’

  It seems our meeting is over. Now doesn’t seem the right time to ask her if I can still have my holidays, although I’m desperate to know. I un-wedge my backside from the tiny chair and stand up. Somehow I manage to exit the office with a modicum of dignity although I really want to shuffle out backwards, curtseying and scraping the ground and saying how sorry I am.

  I power walk back to my desk because if I walk slowly I think my legs might give way. Once safely seated behind the desk I put my head down and work steadily for the rest of the morning, interspersed with a bit of surfing, too scared to even look at or talk to Trina. She keeps looking over trying to catch my eye and just before lunch I resort to firing her an email:

  Sorry, can’t talk, major cock up so have to look super busy but will tell you all about it later.

  She replies in nanoseconds:

  Catch up at lunch?

  I daren’t risk it, I quickly tap a reply:

  Top secret, too frightened to talk about it, will tell you outside of work.

  Trina: Ooh, intrigued . Mine, wine? Seven o’clock?

  Oh, yes please , I reply, and lots of it.

  Because I have lots to talk about; not least that my world is now Jonathan free after seven long years.

  The rest of the day crawls by in milliseconds – I don’t even go up to the restaurant for lunch because I know that I wouldn’t be able resist telling Trina and I also know that I’d have the bad luck of someone overhearing me blabbing about it – and the someone being the managing director – and I’d end up getting the sack.

  I’m also afraid of bumping into Jonathan. Will he know that I’m the one who’s dropped him in it or has he bragged to so many people that he won’t realise it’s me? If I see him the guilt will be written all over my face and no doubt I’ll start gabbling and confessing so I need to avoid him at all costs. I keep a watch on Em’s office door but Jonathan never appears and I wonder what, if anything, will happen to him. Maybe Em will pass it onto Ed to deal with because he’s the same level as Jonathan.

  Or if they are an item maybe she’ll keep quiet about it – she knows I’m not going to be telling anyone.

  At last, when home time is finally within sight, at four forty-five, just as I thought I’d got away with nothing else
going wrong, an email from Em pops into my inbox. I stare at it. I could leave it until tomorrow, put it off – but really, what would be the point? I’d only fret about it all night, wondering what it says. I click on it quickly before I can change my mind.

  Rebecca

  Your holiday request has been approved by Ed, please update your office diary accordingly.

  Em

  Well, whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that.

  ✽✽✽

  We’re on our second glass of wine and it’s only seven thirty, although in all fairness I arrived at Trina’s early. Flynn was working late and as he’d pre-warned me that he wouldn’t be home I dispensed with any pretence of cooking a meal and made myself a cheese and pickle sandwich for dinner followed by six chocolate digestives. I wish I hadn’t eaten the biscuits now because Trina has produced some very tasty looking nuts and crispy type things and vegetable rolls which are my absolute favourite but I’m can’t do them justice because I’m full.

  Pig, shouts the Beccabird, right on cue, but I ignore her.

  ‘Six weeks!’ Trina shrieks. ‘She gave you six weeks holiday – in one go?’

  ‘She did, I couldn’t believe it, I thought she’d make sure Ed refused it after I blabbed my mouth off but she didn’t. I’ve got to be honest, Trina, she’s gone right up in my estimation, I think I might have misjudged her.’

  ‘Me too,’ agrees Trina. ‘Though to be honest, I can’t really complain about her ‘cos I’ve never had that much to do with her. And the few occasions that I have she’s been okay, not particularly friendly, but nice enough.’ Trina takes a gulp of her wine. ‘More importantly, how am I going to manage with my bestest chum being away for six whole weeks? I’ll go mad with just the youngsters for company!’

  I laugh and realise that although I’ve only known Trina for a short time I feel as if we’ve been friends for years and I feel so happy that she thinks the same.