Chapter Thirteen
On Monday morning, feeling better than he deserved, Mitchell left Zane sleeping and made his way to the office. He had no idea what time his nephew had returned because he had been fast asleep. Instead of potentially waking Zane with a text message, he left a scribbled note on the coffee table telling him to call if he needed anything.
During weekdays, Mitchell liked to arrive around seven-thirty, before anyone else, mainly to read messages, complete any overnight tasks and prioritise his day. That morning he picked up an extra-large coffee on his way in and was thanked his stars for the quiet emptiness of the office. His good fortune did not last long.
“Didn’t think you’d make it in today,” came Kate’s voice across the otherwise empty open office.
“Whyever not?”
“I’d heard you were unwell yesterday.”
Hong Kong’s parochialism could be annoyingly intrusive. News travelled at the speed of light. On the flip side, that could sometimes be a blessing.
“Who told you?”
Kate appeared slightly embarrassed at the question.
“Girl gossip. I bumped into Shelly last night. She was out with her theatre people. Never mind about that, I have news. Remember I told you I was interviewing for a CFO position? The recruiter phoned late Friday night and told me the interview’s this Tuesday. But I need your help.”
“Go on.”
“They asked me if there’s anything in my current contract that might prevent me from starting as soon as my notice period has expired. Or if the bank might consider paying me out of the notice period.”
“You’re not going to find out what your redundancy package might be?”
“Honestly, Mitchell, it’s not worth it. I’ve been through something like this before. This place will become toxic. And I doubt I’ll get more than the standard minimum amount. I’d rather be working, especially with Angel to support. But I’d still like to swat up on my terms of employment, in case they ask at the interview.”
“Don’t you have a copy of your contract?”
“Somewhere. Home’s a bit of a bomb site at the moment. I hoped you might be able to slip into my personnel file and check.”
Mitchell sighed. “You do know you have a personal copy in your private portal account, don’t you?”
“Yes, darling. But rather than me ploughing through screen after screen, unsure about what I’m looking for, you could use that huge brain of yours to dig the contract out for me.”
“Okay, Kate. Let me check. And remember, you can’t breathe a word or even entertain questions about what’s going on here. Not to the people you’re interviewing for or the recruiters.”
“I know that. I’m legally bound. But just to give you a head’s up, the recruiter did ask me a few interesting questions about rumours that have been circulating. I denied all knowledge, of course. But I don’t think the secret is as secure as our people would like us to believe. And don’t hate me, but she asked if you might ever think about moving on.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Don’t worry. I lied, of course. I said I don’t know you that well and that she’s going to have to approach you herself.”
“And so it all begins.”
“Yes. Fasten your seatbelt,” said Kate. “Shelly pointed out your nephew last night. Nice looking lad. He seemed to be having fun.”
Mitchell was thankful for the distraction.
“Apparently I got him totally wrong. He only arrived this weekend and he’s already making friends. Tommy—that teacher friend of yours—has been a big help, actually.”
“Has he now?” said Kate, with a grin. “That’s good to know. When we met him and Shelly in the café, I sensed some indifference between the two of you.”
“Indifference? Is that your polite way of saying that I thought he was a complete asshole? Turns out I was wrong there, too. He’s not so bad.”
“No, he isn’t,” said Kate, just as someone else appeared at the door to the office. She looked as though she wanted to say something more but stopped herself. “Excellent. I’ll leave you to it then. Send me that stuff we talked about. Preferably this morning, if you can.”
“Will do.”
The new arrival turned out to be a manager from the bank’s retail banking division. She’d wanted to speak to Pauline about the upcoming pay reviews. Pauline had delegated the task to Helen in her absence, but Helen had phoned in sick. He took the manager into a private meeting room to conduct the interview and sat listening attentively. All the while he felt like a fraud, knowing this woman and the staff member she had come to talk about would soon be gone, casualties of the coming cull. But he had an obligation to remain professional.
Thankfully the rest of the day went by largely without incident. But Kate had been right, and he had begun to hear whispers around the office during the afternoon.
With no Helen or Pauline around and a quieter day than usual, he left the office at about six. On his way out, he decided he needed to sound off to someone. He called a familiar number after finding an empty bench a few blocks from the office.
“Are you around for coffee and a chat, Harold?”
“Sorry, old man.” Harold’s voice sounded strained. “I’ve had a particularly bad day. Lot of pain. William’s gone to get my prescription topped up. Can this wait until tomorrow?”
Mitchell felt instantly remorseful. Friends were dealing with far more significant problems than his own.
“Of course. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Not really. Don’t worry, it’s not all doom and gloom. I believe William told you that they’re bringing my op forward. The specialist had a slot become vacant. I didn’t ask why. Does having a chat over the phone work for you? Would be nice to hear a friendly voice to keep me company.”
Mitchell made up his mind because he needed to share his news with somebody he knew to be both pragmatic and discreet. He looked around to make sure nobody was in earshot before beginning.
“I shouldn’t really be telling anyone about this. Everything’s still confidential. Please tell me you won’t say a word to anybody, including William. Promise me, Harold.”
“Darling, you know me. I’ll have forgotten all about it by the time I put down the phone. Especially once the pain meds kick in. What on earth has got your aussieBums in such a twist?”
Mitchell took a deep breath and blurted out his news.
“In short, the bank I’ve been working my ass off for is closing down the whole Hong Kong operation. Well, leaving behind a skeleton staff. And I’m being sent back to London.”
“Okay,” said Harold, sounding nonplussed.
Mitchell’s indignation stalled. Harold’s reaction had not been the one he had been anticipating.
“Countless people will lose their jobs,” added Mitchell.
“I imagine that’s goes with the territory. And?”
“It’s just—” began Mitchell, but he hesitated again.
“Look, if it’s sympathy you’re seeking, then I’m probably not the right person. To my knowledge—and I’m no expert here—three or four international companies have shut up shop in Hong Kong over the past four years. And I’m guessing people would have lost their jobs then, too.”
“Yes, but—”
“Which means that either other businesses have entered the marketplace or existing companies have recruited new staff—possibly the experienced staff who have been let go—to cope with the new demands from the customers who have been left high and dry. Isn’t that how business works in our delightful capitalist society? If I was a wealthy Hong Kong investor who’d been relying on a particular international bank to service my needs, and that bank closed down or moved away, then I’d find another. I know some of these internationals claim to have a global online presence, but in my experience they’re rarely as effective as having local experts on the ground. Or am I missing something?”
“No, you’re doing pretty well. Carry on.”
“Many of the people who lose their jobs will find new ones. Or decide to start their own businesses. Or realise they don’t need to work at all. And the world will move on. But if there’s one thing I have learnt about us Hongkongers it’s that we are both practical and resilient in a crisis. While the world to-and-fro’d and hummed and hawed about wearing protective masks on the street at the outbreak of the coronavirus, everybody here was already masked up. We’d learnt our lesson with SARS. Being made redundant from my position with the construction company was the best thing that ever happened to me. I retrained and started my own property agency with the redundancy payout and, although I had to work tirelessly for months, I finally got the rewards I deserved for all the hard work I put in. Your position here will be gone, then?”
“It will. Although that, too, is confidential at the moment.”
“And what will you do?”
“I told you. I have to return to the UK. They’ve found a position for me there.”
“And is that a done deal? Can you not request redundancy? And have you considered other options? You are what used to be known as a company man, Mitchell. Loyal to a fault. Valued in the past but something of an anachronism in this day and age. You define yourself by your association with an organisation that sees you as little more than a foot soldier. One thing I love about so many of this new generation is that they are their own brand. They do not shackle themselves to one company, but promote the value of who they are and their individual skill sets. You’re still young and eminently professional, you have extensive knowledge, years of experience and wonderfully marketable skills. And aren’t you a local tax-paying permanent resident now?”
Trust Harold to state the obvious. Working in Hong Kong, Mitchell knew better than anyone that having been granted permanent residence meant he could stay in the region without requiring a working visa. He could also legitimately search for other employment or even set up his own business.
“Thank you for the reminder,” said Mitchell. “Apologies, I’m still emotionally processing the change.”
“Well, don’t dilly-dally, old man. Treat this as an opportunity, not a death sentence. You are being uncaged and can do whatever you like if you’re prepared to take a chance,” said Harold before changing the subject. “Now, tell me how that nephew of yours is doing? Cheered up any? I hear on the grapevine that he’s been drafted into the local theatre troupe. That must be a load off.”
Once again Mitchell stalled a moment at how quickly news travelled. Who needed social media when you had friends like Mitchell’s?
“I apologise for his behaviour at lunch, Harold. But, yes, he seems to be settling in well and making new friends. Tommy Chow, of all people, has been instrumental in helping out.”
“As I have always said, sometimes a nudge in the right direction is all that’s required,” said Harold, as William’s voice sounded. “Ah, that’s my special delivery. Got to go. Please don’t worry too much or overthink this predicament of yours. You’ll do the right thing, darling. You always do.”
The moment Harold ended the call, Mitchell already felt better. Kate had grabbed the bull by the horns and explored new career possibilities. He needed to do the same. He picked up his bag and had begun to stand when his phone sounded.
“Alec Janussen is in town,” said Tommy excitedly, without even an introduction. “He says he has meetings with a supplier. Oh, I’m sorry. Can you talk right now?”
Mitchell snorted and sat back down again.
“I’m all ears.”
“He’s asked to meet me for coffee, says he has something a little delicate he wants to run by me.”
“Maybe you won’t need me after all,” said Mitchell.
“No, I don’t think it’s that. There’s something I haven’t told anyone.”
Tommy explained to Mitchell about an unknown but pretty woman holding Daley’s hand in a society magazine photograph at the launch of a new sports product, one also attended by Alec. Mitchell smiled at being the one now handing out advice.
“I think you should leave well enough alone,” said Mitchell.
“She’s my sister. How can I?”
“Have you called Daley?”
“Repeatedly, but he hasn’t been answering and I didn’t want to leave a voicemail.”
“There’s your answer, then. Agree to meet Alec and ask him yourself. You say he’s in the photo too. I bet he knows exactly who she is. Tell him about stumbling across the article and say you’re just curious.”
“What if he tells Daley?”
“What if he does? You are just curious, aren’t you?”
The line went quiet, a sure sign Tommy was thinking.
“What’s wrong, Tommy?”
“Will you come with me? To the coffee shop? I can introduce you before the wedding. Please, Mitchell. And I will count that as one less favour you owe me.”
“When has he asked to meet you?”
“In half an hour. Told me to pick a venue. Somewhere we can talk.”
Not that Tommy could see, but Mitchell rolled his eyes.
“I’m on my way out now. Tell him six-thirty at Coffee Maestro. I’ll wait for you outside.”
“What would I do without you?”
“I’m thinking more about what I would do without you.”
* * * *
Alec Janussen was just as attractive as Tommy had described. Tall, blond and charismatic, he stood out in a crowd even when seated. The broad grin of perfect teeth that lit up his face when he singled out Tommy was infectious and natural. Mitchell understood Tommy’s infatuation instantly, even though the realisation sent a ripple of defeat through him. They would make a good-looking pair—a power couple. Once Tommy had given Alec a brief hug, Mitchell held out his hand and had a firm handshake returned. To give Tommy a chance to speak privately, Mitchell offered to head to the counter to order coffee. When he returned, Alec appeared to be enthusing over plans for Daley’s bachelor party.
“Tommy told me about your business venture,” said Mitchell, placing Tommy’s drink down. “Sounds exciting, doesn’t it, Tommy?”
Mitchell noticed Tommy’s knee bouncing up and down beneath the table.
“Can be,” said Alec, nodding and smiling, then he talked about the range of sports his company offered. All the while, Tommy said nothing.
“What’s the most dangerous sport you’ve attempted?” asked Mitchell.
Alec lounged back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, his thick, tan neck and large Adam’s apple in full view.
“Toss-up between base jumping and ice climbing. Neither for the faint of heart. Have you heard of the Lyngen Alps in Norway? Yeah, probably not. I climbed a frozen waterfall there. They said what we were doing was for beginners then went on to scare the shit out of us, warning about the risks of getting buried alive in avalanches or plummeting to our death from a great height due to a misplaced footfall. Dude, that was one high-intensity experience.”
“I might stick to waterskiing,” said Mitchell.
“Well, we offer barefooting, which is a bit like waterskiing, but without skis.”
“Sounds painful.”
Alec laughed aloud, and Tommy’s laughter followed like an afterthought.
“Funnily enough, stings less if the water’s choppy. But the only injuries I’ve seen are when people take a tumble. Especially if they’re bold enough to try slaloms or jumps. Hold up a moment. I’ve got a shot of me somewhere.”
As Alec lowered his head to search through his phone, Mitchell tapped Tommy’s foot beneath the table and twitched his head in Alec’s direction. Tommy appeared to have zoned out. After admiring a couple of photos of a bare-chested Alec in nothing but surfer shorts, holding onto a ski rope with one hand, his muscled arms and legs covered in blond hair, Mitchell decided to take charge.
“Alec. In an edition of StarAsia magazine a couple of months ago—”
“Mitchell,” warned Tommy.
“There was a picture with you and Daley in Bali. At a launch party for a brand of sports watch.”
“JPY. Active Timepieces range. Yeah, that was us.”
“And there was a girl in between you and Daley.”
“Ellery Yeoh. That’s right, mate.” Mitchell didn’t know Alec but felt sure a flicker of concern showed in his eyes. “She’s the sister of the sports company owner. Daley went to high school with her.”
“Why was Daley holding her hand?”
Alec’s expression changed, going from neutral to sad.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about, Tommy. But as I mentioned, it’s a little delicate, so I asked to see you privately.”
“Do you want me to leave?” asked Mitchell.
“No,” blurted Tommy, looking startled at Mitchell before shaking his head.
“Okay, look,” said Alec. “Daley wasn’t holding her hand, she was holding his. I know that doesn’t make much sense at the moment, but hear me out. Ellery works for an ophthalmologist practice, eye specialists, that Daley’s family have been using for years. As you know Daley wears glasses, and he’s had to visit the specialist a couple of times over the years. That day test results came back to confirm that he’s suffering from a rare type of glaucoma, something that usually affects the elderly. It’s early days, and most people don’t even notice, but his vision is partially impaired, a bit like having tunnel vision. Most of the time you wouldn’t even know and he manages unaided—flat surfaces that are well-lit and relatively even—but being on that uneven lawn at dusk was a challenge and Daley didn’t want to spoil the event by face-planting in the turf. Hence the moment of hand-holding between him and Ellery, which happened to be caught on camera.”
Tommy heaved out a sigh.
“See? I knew there would be a simple explanation. Sammi already knows about his eyesight.”
“Yeah, but the tests indicate his condition’s getting worse. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. He knows he needs to tell her—pretty bloody soon—but he’s terrified she might want to reconsider marrying him. And I think that would just about kill him.”
“My sister would never pull out of the marriage just because—”
“Wait a minute,” said Mitchell, touching Tommy’s forearm. “There’s something you haven’t told us, isn’t there, Alec?”
“I’m afraid so. There’s a good chance Daley will lose his vision completely within the next eighteen to twenty months.”