Chapter 6
DEXTER
Dexter was determined to have a quiet one this weekend, especially after the last. He still had no recollection of who it was he’d hooked up with. There had been no mysterious texts or calls, so whoever it was, Dexter had been lucid enough not to give his number out to some rando.
His final interview was on Monday, and he intended to spend Sunday prepping for it.
He would use Saturday to get his flat sorted out.
The life admin he’d planned for earlier in the week had been put off multiple times.
His whole flat needed a clean, and his fridge was bare.
The week had been crazy busy, so he hadn’t set up a food delivery, which would mean a trip to the supermarket on a Saturday.
That was always a nightmare as the place was packed with families who all had to go food shopping together, as well as old people who had all week but thought Saturday was the best time to meander around the aisles at a snail’s pace.
Gabriel had called about having Sunday lunch at one of their favourite pubs, so that gave him something to look forward to the next day.
He could prep for his interview in the morning, meet Gabriel, stick to soft drinks, and have a chilled evening.
The interview was at three o’clock on Monday, so he could pop out and be back in time for his one-to-one with Simon.
He doubted he’d get an offer that quickly, but how amazing would it be to resign in that meeting.
That wasn’t something he’d do without thoroughly reading the paperwork first, though.
Jason would kick his arse if he did that.
Saturday went by in a domestic blur, and it was eight o’clock in the evening before Dexter put his feet up.
In the supermarket, they’d had an office shredder, which he had to buy, and then when he got home, it was essential he declutter all the paperwork he had everywhere and shred it all.
The problem was, it was only a small thing, so he could do only four sheets of paper at once, and it kept overheating, so he had to leave it to cool down whilst he cleaned something else.
As was typical after he’d done grocery shopping and his fridge, freezer, and cupboards were all bursting, he couldn’t be arsed to make anything.
Dexter was scanning through the food delivery apps, deciding what he wanted, when he had a call from an unknown number.
Given his mum’s history, he knew it was best to answer.
Hopefully, it would just be some automated robot voice, and he could hang up and go back to ordering.
He was definitely feeling a greasy burger of some kind.
“Hello,” he said, answering the call.
Dexter would have preferred it to have been a scam call rather than the one he got.
Dexter stared at his unconscious mother, who looked emaciated.
He’d seen her only two weeks before. How had she gotten into this state so quickly?
They’d stabilised her, but it had been touch and go.
It wasn’t the first time she’d overdosed, and it wouldn’t be the last. Dexter knew deep down that one day he would get a very different call, so he couldn’t help but hope she could get her shit together.
She was his only family. He’d never known his father, and when his mum got pregnant at sixteen, her family had disowned her, so she’d moved to London.
It had been the two of them since the beginning, and from the first time she’d overdosed when he was eight years old, Dexter had stepped into the role of parent.
Nothing much had changed in the past thirty years, although there had been moments when she’d been clean for short periods.
Despite everything she’d done to her body, and the stress it had put Dexter under, she had loved him unconditionally.
When he’d come out, first as bisexual then pansexual, she’d been nothing but supportive.
But with money she was a nightmare. There was no expectation for Dexter to pay her debts, but he couldn’t help himself.
He needed to do something. Only she could get herself clean and stay that way.
Clearing her debts was something he could do, even if she just racked them up again.
His friends had suggested he stop paying them off and see if that did anything for her, but he couldn’t do that.
The logical side of his brain was screaming at him to realise that what he was doing wasn’t actually helping her in the long run.
It didn’t matter. If there was any way he could help her, he was going to do it.
“Mr Trantor,” said the doctor, pulling his attention from his mother. “I’m Dr Malik, and I’ve been looking after your mother since she came in last night. Can we talk somewhere private?”
Not something you want to hear from a guy in a white coat, even if he was good looking.
Okay, Dexter needed to get some sleep. The guy was probably ten years younger than him, so not what he usually went for.
He followed the handsome doctor to one of the family rooms. His mother was still in the A&E department as there were no beds to move her up to a ward. They took their seats.
“Mr Trantor –”
“Please, call me Dexter. We don’t need to be formal here, Doctor. You can give it to me straight.”
“Of course, Dexter. Your mother is seriously ill, and I’m afraid the mortality risk is high. We’re going to have to transfer her to intensive care.”
“I thought she was just going to a normal ward.”
“This is the fourth time she’s been admitted for an overdose in the last three years. In the prior ten years, there were another three instances. This escalation and the damage she’s done to her body are causing her organs to shut down.”
Dexter didn’t know what to say. He was well aware of the other times, as he’d been there. They usually stabilised her, got all the dirty shit out of her body, and then kicked her out. She’d never been moved to intensive care before.
“What are her chances, Doctor?”
“As I said, the mortality risk is high. We’ll need to monitor her closely for the next forty-eight hours. We’re planning to move her upstairs in the next hour.”
“Will I still be able to stay with her?”
“Visiting hours are more restricted, but they can be flexible depending on what the patient needs. Your mother is going to be in her own room, so I’m sure they’ll be fine with you staying longer.”
“Why will she be in her own room?”
“They need to keep the risk of infection as low as possible. Given how weakened her immune system is right now, they can’t take any chances. She wouldn’t be able to fight anything.”
Dexter couldn’t stop the tears from coming.
He usually managed his emotions well, but he wasn’t sure what he would do without her.
How could this be happening now? He had his interview coming up.
How was he going to get through that? And now he felt like an arsehole for thinking about himself, when his mother was fighting for her life.
“Can I get you a drink of water or something?” asked Dr Malik.
Dexter nodded, unable to speak. He kept his head down as the doctor left the room.
Perhaps he could get the interview postponed, but he wouldn’t be able to speak to the recruiter until Monday morning.
And he couldn’t think about that right now anyway.
His mother needed him. He heard the door open and looked up.
Dr Malik was carrying a plastic cup with what he assumed was water in it.
He handed it over, and Dexter downed it, not realising how thirsty he was.
“Can I get you anything else, Dexter?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks. Is it okay if I stay here for a bit?”
“Of course. Take all the time you need. Someone will let you know when they’re moving your mother upstairs.”
“Thanks, Doctor.”
He nodded and left. Once Dexter was by himself, he wept.
Monday morning was a bit of a blur. Visiting was not permitted before noon.
Dexter had spoken to the recruiter first thing, and it had been made clear that if he didn’t turn up today, they would likely go with the other candidate.
That should have been his first red flag.
Granted, he didn’t say his mother was in intensive care.
He was embarrassed about the reason she was there, and wasn’t sure what he’d say if there were follow-up questions.
All he’d said was that a family member was in hospital.
To take some pressure off, he called in sick for work by sending Simon a Teams message saying he wasn’t feeling well.
He didn’t want to speak to him or tell him about his mother either.
The last thing he wanted was sympathy from Simon Woods.
If Dexter had been thinking logically, he would have dropped out of this recruitment process and focussed on his mother, but the need to get away from Simon was so strong, logic was nowhere to be found.
His final interview was with Ben Morley, the managing partner, which was the legal firm equivalent of a CEO.
Partnerships were different in their setup from the companies Dexter had worked with before, and it was rare for them to consider people outside their sector.
Dexter had worked in financial services for over a decade, so he had a lot of regulatory experience, which had given him the credentials as a candidate.
Unfortunately, everything that could go wrong did.
He was mindful that the interview was in a building that was directly behind his own office, so he had to walk around the houses to enter from a different side and reduce the risk of bumping into anyone.
He stopped for a coffee to calm his nerves, and thought he’d treat himself to a mocha.
Dexter spilled it down his white shirt, which looked like a shit stain and was visible even with his suit jacket on.
His brain then went blank when he arrived and asked for Craig Morley instead of Ben, and was corrected by the receptionist who looked at him with such disgust he should have just turned around and left – but no, he still believed he could recover things. He was mistaken.
“I’m aiming to add five additional equity partners by the end of the financial year. I’d like them all to be internal talent, but that’s not always possible. How would you take that proposition to market?” asked Ben.
He was a handsome guy, and in his fifties. Dexter had done his research. He had the DILF look, similar to Simon, although Ben had been married to the same woman for thirty years and had four kids.
Dexter had had barely any sleep. He’d stayed at the hospital until midnight, when they’d kicked him out. He hadn’t been able to visit today, but was going straight to the hospital once he was done here. Dexter knew that his mind had wandered, and he had no recollection of the question.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat the question again?”
Ben looked irritated, but he asked again.
Dexter wasn’t sure what to say. He knew this stuff.
He might not have done it with lawyers before, but he’d worked with bonus, share plans, internal talent incentives, and everything else with succession planning.
Dexter wasn’t just a recruiter. There was no way he could ask for the question to be repeated again.
All he could do was regurgitate his experience.
As he spoke, Ben’s face was clear in that he was frustrated and thought this entire meeting was a waste of his time.
The interview wrapped after thirty-five minutes, and it was supposed to have been an hour.
He couldn’t get out of their quick enough.
Ben remained polite, but his jaw was tight, and Dexter knew he’d fucked up.
How was he going to explain this to the recruiter?
Perhaps he should have put his foot down about rescheduling, or just said his mum was in intensive care.
Would they really have demanded to know the details?
Of course not, so why had he been so cagey?
Dexter would speak to her later, or even tomorrow.
Right now, he had to get to the hospital.
Once he was on the ground floor, he walked across the lobby and out of the building entrance.
He needed a second to get his bearings so he could jump on the Tube and get to the hospital.
He had a change of clothes in his bag. If his mum was awake, he didn’t want her to see him suited and booted.
She’d ask questions, and he’d never been able to lie to her.
If she knew he’d fucked up his interview because her situation had distracted him, she’d feel awful about it, and he didn’t want to do that to her.
This was on him for not prepping, and for not being firmer that he couldn’t do the interview today.
What kind of company wasn’t flexible when you said a family member was in hospital? Maybe he’d dodged a bullet, and this wasn’t the right company for him, but it was the only option he’d had on the table. Now he was stuck with Simon Woods as a boss.
“How did the interview go, Dexter?” said a familiar voice, which made his stomach flip, and not in a good way.
He spun around and saw Simon, looking pissed off, which was his usual face to be fair. Handsome with a dose of lemon sucking.
“I see you made a miraculous recovery in time for your little chat with Ben Morley.”
How the fuck did he know who Dexter was interviewing with? He went from feeling embarrassed to furious in a nanosecond.
“Have you been following me or something?”
“Think a lot of yourself, don’t you, Dexter? I learnt you were interviewing somewhere else and discovered the final interview was today.”
“I’m entitled to interview for other jobs. It’s not a crime.”
“Never said it was, but you calling in sick when you’re not actually unwell is a serious policy breach, which we’ll need to discuss.”
“I’m not the first person to take a day off to attend an interview.”
“Oh, I know you’re not, but that doesn’t make it any better.” He looked at his watch. “There’s no point in you coming back to work now, but I expect to see you in my office at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“I’m working at home tomorrow,” he said.
“Not anymore. My office tomorrow at nine, Dexter.”
Before he could reply, Simon walked away. What the fuck was he going to do?