Say Hello and Wave Goodbye Read online

  Dad purses his lips and Mum throws him that look, the shut up look.

  ‘So, who’s this bloke that you’re living with?’ Dad asks suspiciously, changing the subject, although he already knows because I told him when I last rang them.

  ‘Flynn. I told you.’

  ‘Funny name. Flynn, I mean, what sort of name’s that? So what does he do then, this Flynn? What’s his job?’

  ‘What does it matter what his job is? I’m renting his spare room not marrying him.’

  ‘Simple question. Not a secret is it?’

  ‘Not, it’s not a secret. He’s a landscape gardener, runs his own business if you must know.’

  Dad nods approvingly. ‘Good trade to be in, people will always want gardeners, can’t go wrong with that.’

  ‘And he’s gay,’ I add unnecessarily.

  Dad always does this; puts me on the defensive. It’s understandable given my history but I wish they’d give me a bit of credit for not being a complete fool.

  ‘I see,’ says Dad thoughtfully.

  ‘What does that mean?’ I demand.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘So, when do you start your new job?’ Mum gets between us like she always does, smoothing the way.

  ‘Monday. Got the weekend off and then back to the grindstone.’

  ‘Be nice though love, to meet new people and everything.’ Mum smiles uncertainly. ‘Do you think you’ll look up any of your old friends now you’re back in Frogham?’

  ‘Probably not,’ I say absently as I watch Dad’s face. ‘I didn’t have that many and they’ll all have moved on by now. I expect they’re all married with kids. This is a fresh start.’

  Mum looks relieved. ‘Good idea. A new life.’

  Dad drains his mug and places it on the table with a thud.

  ‘What your mother really wants to know is if you plan on seeing him . That Jonathan.’ Dad always refers to him as that Jonathan as if to differentiate him from all the other Jonathans in Frogham.

  ‘Of course I don’t. I never want to see him again.’ My cheeks burn as I lie and I try to forget that I followed him.

  ‘It’s just, you know, we remember how it was, how you were,’ Mum says and throws Dad another shut up look when he opens his mouth to say something .

  ‘You don’t need to worry,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ve no intention of contacting him and Frogham’s not that small so I’m unlikely to bump into him.

  You sure about that? taunts the Beccabird.

  Even if I do bump into him again I will not be following him. I was caught unawares last time and I’m putting the fact that I followed him down to shock. I wasn’t thinking straight but next time, if there is one, I’ll be prepared.

  Dad stares into his mug of tea.

  ‘Dad? If you’ve got something to say I’d rather you just say it.’

  He looks like he’s going to burst.

  ‘Well I’m just surprised you came back. To Frogham. You couldn’t keep away from him last time even after all he’d done. I just don’t want it happening all over again.’

  ‘No chance of that!’ I say firmly.

  ‘I hope not because we couldn’t bear to see you go through that again.’

  Dad’s big and bluff and he’s looked the same for as long as I can remember but now I look at him and I see that he’s looking old and that the years are finally catching up with him. I’m responsible for a lot of that aging and I feel bad; I don’t think they could cope with the worry a second time. I will not put them through it again.

  ‘Dad,’ I lean across the table and grab his hand. ‘You really don’t need to worry. That was all a long time ago, a lifetime ago. I have no intention of messing up my life like that again, I’ve got a bright future and it won’t be long before I have enough for a deposit on my own place. Honestly, I’ve never been happier and I certainly don’t need a man in my life, especially one like Jonathan. ’

  After my self-justifying speech we sit without speaking for a while with the only the ticking of the old grandmother clock from the hallway. It’s just starting to feel uncomfortable when Mum says brightly, ‘Did we tell you we’re going to see our Michael in Australia?’

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ I say. ‘When?’

  ‘September, it’s their springtime.’ Mum looks at Dad and I see him nod imperceptibly.

  ‘We wondered if you’d like to come with us?’

  I open my mouth to say no but Mum puts her hand up.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say but before you say no, just listen. We’d pay for you, our treat – and even though we’re going for six weeks you don’t have to come for that long. You could come for two or three weeks if you can’t get time off work, although you’d have to fly back on your own.’

  I’d so love to see Michael again; I haven’t seen him since he moved to Australia eight years ago and I’ve never even met my nephew or Michael’s wife in person. Skype and phone calls can only do so much. Mum and Dad visit every couple of years and they always ask me and I always say no.

  ‘And it’s Michael’s fortieth while we’re there – wouldn’t it be smashing to be all be together for it? I’m sure he’ll be throwing a big party.’ Mum looks at me hopefully.

  I’m so tempted; Michael will definitely throw one hell of a party and it would be worth going to Australia just for that. There’s no way I could afford to pay for it and that’s the trouble, Mum and Dad have given me so much already.

  ‘If it makes you feel any better we’re going to give Michael some money too because we always treat the pair of you the same. And anyway, if we don’t give it to you two it’ll only get spent on a care home.’

  Say no , the Beccabird says firmly, they’ve already given you far too much.

  The thing is, I know that damn bird is right; they’ve given me so much and I don’t deserve anymore because I basically threw it all away. But. I so want to go, it would be lovely to be all together again.

  Mum is looking at me hopefully and Dad is pretending to be engrossed in his mug of tea.

  ‘Let me find out if I can get the time off work,’ I say, ‘Because I haven’t even started there yet so I’m not sure how the land lies about holidays.’

  ‘It’ll be fine, they can’t stop you from having holidays.’ Mum claps her hands excitedly. ‘Oh, it’ll be such fun to all be together again.’

  Dad looks up from his tea and winks.

  I know what that wink means; you just try getting out of it now.

  Australia here I come.

  Chapter Four

  I could actually walk to work from my new home in about fifteen minutes and I fully intend to once I’ve settled into my new job. But today I’m going to take my car because obviously, I don’t want to arrive on my first day wind-blown and looking like a scarecrow from the gusty March wind.

  I give myself a final check in the mirror; not bad though I say so myself. I’ve gone for the office not office look. I want to look business like and professional but not as if I’m trying too hard, so I’m wearing a smart grey dress with a black jacket, black opaque tights and a pair of comfortable heels. I can take the jacket off if it’s hot in the office as there’s nothing worse than being red faced and sweaty - or keep it on if it’s a bit chilly. I do have a suit but I think that would be a bit over the top, a bit too much.

  Yeah, and it’s too tight says the Beccabird, who has been strangely silent over the weekend.

  Okay, it is too tight but I wouldn’t wear it anyway. So there.

  My new life starts here - I’ve got over the shock of seeing Jonathan, the Beccabird has given me a good talking to and for once I’ve listened and Jonathan is now dead to me. I have a fabulous new home and soon to be new gay best friend when he spends a bit more time at home. Imagine the jolly evenings we’ll have when Steve comes round, two new gay best friends. Also, it looks like I’ll be going to Australia on holiday.

  Keys, check, handbag, check, new life, check!

  ✽✽✽
r />   Atkinsons is huge . I knew this already but the enormity of it hits me again when I arrive in the car park – it’s so massive that they have a multi storey car park all to themselves. It’s much bigger than the Atkinsons in Westchester but Frogham is the head office so I suppose it has to be the biggest and the best.

  I notice that all of the other parked cars have bright orange parking permits stuck in their windscreens but no one in HR mentioned this when I came for my interview – they called it an interview but I’d already got the job as it was a relocation – but I’m guessing that they’ll sort me out with one when I’ve had my induction. I’m not too concerned about it because we had parking permits at Westchester and no one took any notice of them. We were supposed to renew them every year but mine was at least two years out of date and it wasn’t a problem and some people didn’t even bother having them at all. And as the parking barrier was up when I drove in I’m guessing that they don’t bother checking them here either.

  I’ve parked on the fourth floor and there’s an entrance right into the building from the car park that comes out onto the third floor stairwell. Once I get inside out of the wind I rummage around in my handbag until I find the letter confirming my starting details. Retrieving it from underneath my purse and make-up bag I pull it out and unfurl it from the crumpled ball it’s become and brush the handbag detritus from it. Oops, it seems I was supposed to call in and collect my car parking permit before I started today. Not important, I decide, I’ll sort it later.

  Slapdash! shouts the Beccabird, who it seems has well and truly returned from her holiday.

  No, not slapdash, just not important; a triviality that can be dealt with later. The letter says I’m to report to Reception so I trot down the stairs to the ground floor. I take it slowly because I have plenty of time and I don’t want to trip up and go flying and ladder my tights or get all hot and bothered.

  I arrive in Reception without incident and feel rather pleased with myself, I have a good feeling about today.

  ‘Hi, I’m Rebecca Templeton,’ I announce as I present myself at the reception desk. ‘I’m starting work in Sales Administration today.’ I give the receptionist my friendliest smile.

  ‘Good Morning,’ she says icily as she looks up at me from her keyboard with a tight lipped, closed mouth smile that never reaches her eyes. I don’t think she likes what she sees at all.

  ‘I’ll let them know you’re here.’ She picks up a clipboard with a list of names on it and runs a manicured finger down it then lifts the telephone receiver up and efficiently stabs the numbers and waits. She does all of this without making eye contact with me and after a few moments she whispers into the phone. How can they even hear her? I feel a bit deflated and wonder if my friendliest smile was a bit manic.

  ‘They’re on their way,’ she says as she replaces the phone. ‘I’ll give you a temporary pass for now but you’ll have to visit the security office sometime today to get your permanent one.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say brightly.

  She stuffs a piece of paper into a plastic wallet and clips it onto a lanyard. She holds it out to me .

  ‘Great!’ I say, taking it from her and looping it over my head.

  She sniffs and puts her head down and resumes typing.

  Am I annoying? Dislikeable? I wonder this because I quite often get this reaction from people and I don’t know why. Maybe I try too hard.

  You do , agrees the Beccabird.

  Well I’m not going to let it spoil my first day, I decide. I move to one side as someone else comes up to the desk.

  ‘Good morning, sir, how may I help?’ The receptionist beams up at the middle aged, suited man and gives him her full, smiling attention.

  So it is just me. This confirms it. I am annoying and most likely dislikeable as well.

  I don’t care. Bitch.

  ‘Rebecca?’ says a voice from behind me and for one awful moment I wonder if I’ve spoken aloud. I spin round to see a smartly dressed, very glamorous blonde lady smiling a proper smile at me.

  ‘Oh, hello, yes I’m Rebecca. Becca.’

  ‘Hi, Becca, nice to meet you. I’m Trina from Sales Admin.’

  ‘Hi, Trina,’ I say.

  ‘We’ll go in the lift,’ Trina says, ‘Cos we’re up on the third floor.’

  ‘Great,’ I say. Is it really great? Is it? asks the Beccabird sarcastically.

  I follow behind Trina and we get into the waiting lift where the doors have conveniently just swished open. I smile nervously and try desperately to think of something to say.

  ‘Did you come into the office when you had your interview?’ Trina asks as the doors close .

  ‘No, only into HR, I never saw the manager because he was on holiday.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Trina nods thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t think I’d seen you before. Okay, well I’ll give you the heads up before we get there. Firstly,’ she lowers her voice in case someone overhears us although we’re the only people in the lift, ‘Ed is the Manager and he’s a big softie and absolutely lovely but whatever you do, don’t cross the Assistant Manager because she’s the real boss and what she says, goes. The power behind the throne.’

  ‘Oh, okay, I’ll make sure to remember that,’ I say.

  ‘I would if I were you. So. There’s twenty-eight of us sales admins, well twenty-nine with you, and I’ll be the one showing you the ropes. Because we’re the old ones.’

  Old? I’m only thirty-four!

  ‘Obviously,’ Trina hurriedly adds, ‘You’re much younger than me, what are you, thirtyish?’

  ‘Thirty-four.’

  ‘Really? I thought you were younger than that. I’m fifty-two but as far as the rest of the team are concerned we’re both practically dead.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah, they’re all in their early twenties.’

  ‘Oh.’ That seems to be all I can say.

  ‘And,’ Trina says as she steps out of the lift as the doors swish open and we arrive at the third floor, ‘As far as they’re concerned we’re a couple of has beens because they’ll all be having much better jobs than this by the time they’re our age.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say as we stand outside the door into the office. ‘So apart from the bossy Assistant Manager and everyone thinking we’re past it it’s a great place to work?’

  Trina laughs, a honking, donkey bray of a laugh that is totally at odds with her ladylike appearance.

  ‘You’ve got it,’ she says, pushing open the door. ‘Come in and meet the team.’

  The office is big and open plan, the desks seeming to go on forever. It’s a bit of a culture shock after my old place; there were only six of us and I was the youngest in there. I look around at the people seated at the desks and I feel ancient because everyone looks so young . Thank God Trina’s here otherwise I think I’d just turn around, go home and go and get a job in Foodco. I also feel hideously overdressed in my smart dress and jacket because everyone else seems to be dressed much more casually. I watch as a size six girl struts past me in sprayed on jeans. She doesn’t notice or acknowledge me.

  ‘I’ll take you down to Ed’s office and introduce you to him and then we’ll get you settled in. Okay?’

  I nod dumbly. Get a grip, you don’t want to start with the nodding again, the Beccabird reminds me.

  I follow Trina for what seems like miles towards a glass partitioned office in the distance. I notice that Trina’s dressed in a smart skirt and blouse as I follow behind her trim figure and I start to feel a bit better. It’s all about standards, I tell myself, some of us have them and some of us don’t.

  After two hours – okay two minutes - we finally arrive at Ed’s office. I feel self-conscious marching behind Trina but I don’t know why because no one is taking the slightest interest in me. Trina taps on the glass partition and we go in. A man who I assume is Ed is seated behind a huge desk on one side of the room and opposite him is a slightly smaller desk which I guess is the Assistant Manager’s.
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  ‘Hi Ed, this is our new starter, Becca.’

  Ed looks up at me from underneath the bushiest eyebrows I’ve ever seen, which combined with his curly brown hair gives the impression of a big teddy bear.

  ‘Hello, Becca, good to meet you at last,’ he says, standing up and holding his hand out.

  ‘Hello, nice to meet you,’ I say, as he envelops my hand in a big paw. We shake enthusiastically and just as my shoulder’s starting to ache, he lets go.

  ‘Sorry I didn’t get to meet you before you started but welcome to the team, you’ll find us a friendly bunch. Trina will show you the ropes but I’m sure you’ll be fine as it’s pretty much the same as the Westchester branch, just on a bigger scale. But if you have any problems just let me know.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I can see what Trina means; he seems like a nice guy.

  ‘Trina will fill you in on booking holiday, absences and all of that sort of thing...’ he looks over my shoulder, ‘Ah, here she is, my indispensable right hand woman. This is who you’ll mostly be reporting to...’ He throws his arm out towards the woman who’s just sitting down at the desk opposite him. ‘Becca, meet Em.’

  I turn around and give Em my friendliest smile.

  Em. Aka Emily-whose-flat-I-said-I’d-move-into-and-then-lied-to.

  My face is frozen in a grotesque smile as Emily stares at me.

  ‘Hi Em,’ I thrust my hand out towards her. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  Emily unsmilingly raises one eyebrow as if to say pretending are we?

  ‘Hello, Rebecca, nice to meet you.’ She looks at my hand with distaste. ‘I’m afraid I don’t shake hands.’ But you already know that .

  I let my hand drop and stand staring at her like an idiot.

  ‘Well, we’d better get on.’ Trina nudges me.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I say as Trina turns and leaves the office, I give Ed and Emily another grimacing smile which is returned by Ed, but not by Emily, and trot to catch up with Trina.

  As we march down the office I’m sure I can feel Emily’s eyes boring into my back. She knew I was lying when I texted her to say I wouldn’t be taking the flat – in fact she knew who I was when I viewed it. Talk about rotten luck; I’ve been here less than an hour and I’ve already managed to make an enemy.