Chapter 2 #2
I’d be forced to look backwards, to rerun every parenting mistake I’d made, relive every occasion when I’d lost my temper, and wish, wish, wish I could have those moments again to do better.
I should have listened to my bright, funny girl more, and given her my words of uninvited wisdom less.
And I especially should have given her the opportunity to tell me more about her gap year when it was so obvious that she was excited about it.
But I didn’t want to say these things to Anna because I could see she was worried about the state of my mental health.
‘I let you down yesterday,’ I said. ‘But it was a one-off. I want to prove to you and to the rest of the board that when your dad retires, I’m the obvious choice to fill that empty chair.’
Anna’s father, our CEO, started the business in the eighties.
It was one of the first companies to supply electronic cash registers to small retailers.
Over the last fifty years Ron Swift and his team had moved with the times, always at the forefront of retail technology.
Anna had worked in every department, learning the nuts and bolts of the business, making her way to managing director.
Yes, she’d always known the top job would be hers, but she’d earned it and when she became CEO, there’d be a vacancy at director level.
A vacancy I wanted to fill. As did Lee Masters.
‘You’re the best salesperson we’ve ever had,’ Anna said, as we reached the front of the queue at a set of traffic lights.
It was manned by a crossing patrol person wearing a fluorescent-yellow coat, holding a STOP sign. A stream of kids flooded into the road.
‘Thank you, I appreciate that.’ I felt the load on my shoulders lighten.
‘But as it stands right now ,’ she paused to pull the lid off her coffee and blow it as I had done, ‘Lee is the one who has the stability and …’
‘Are you saying I’m unstable?’ A tremor of fear rocked through me.
‘… the people skills,’ she continued.
‘I’m bad with people?’ I said, affronted by the insinuation.
‘And whose values are more closely aligned with those of ShopSwift – i.e. tolerant and inclusive.’
‘I’m very tolerant!’
‘Try telling that to Kevin Armstrong.’
I couldn’t argue with that. ‘If we’re talking company values, I had to have a word with Lee last week about posting fart videos on the internal messaging system.’
Anna smirked. ‘I quite like them.’
I threw a hand up in despair. ‘If sharing puerile jokes is what gets you promotion, then I’m done for.’
‘So right now,’ she said, circling back, ‘I can’t say you’d be my first choice. Because I’m not even sure that ShopSwift is the place for you.’
I gulped. ‘You can’t be serious?’
So, this was how my career ended. One rash moment in twenty years of exemplary service – and game over. And if work wasn’t the place for me, then where was? Nowhere, that was where.
Silence descended and I willed the lights to change to break the moment.
Anna looked as if she was hating this conversation as much as I was.
Eventually the lights turned to amber, but a last-minute flurry of kids appeared, and the crossing person stood their ground resolutely, still holding up traffic.
‘You need a break from work,’ Anna said gently. ‘I wouldn’t be doing my best by you, not only as your employer, but as a friend, if I didn’t intervene. You need to switch off completely, no emails, no phone calls and certainly no middle-of-the-night messages.’
‘I can’t think of anything worse.’ I waited for her to point her finger and do a Lord Sugar on me. I could almost see the words you’re fired forming on her lips.
‘Come on, Maggie,’ she chided. ‘There’s more to life than work.’
That was exactly what Bronte had said the very last time I saw her. She’d accused me of putting work before everything. At the time it hadn’t been true. I loved my daughter above all else. But now she was gone.
‘Not for me, there isn’t,’ I murmured. ‘Not anymore.’
‘What you did yesterday was not only a sackable offence, but a huge error of judgement on your part.’ Anna tempered her words with a sympathetic tone. ‘You’re on the verge of being what Human Resources would term a loose cannon. And we can’t have that.’
‘I understand.’ I pictured myself at home, scrolling through vacancies, updating my CV, cold-calling possible employers, and had to suppress a shudder. ‘Look, I admit that I’ve struggled this week, thinking that Bronte should be on the other side of the world by now. It’s unsettled me, that’s all.’
‘I’m not sacking you,’ Anna announced.
My insides unclenched. ‘Thank God, thank you.’
‘I’m trying to support you during this … difficult time you’re going through by insisting that you take a break.’
‘I can do that,’ I replied. I’d agree to anything if it meant putting this behind us. ‘My sister is always telling me to use her cabin in the Lake District. I’ll go there for a few—’
‘Months,’ Anna jumped in before I could say days . ‘A few months. Call it a sabbatical. A non-negotiable sabbatical.’
‘Months?’ My jaw fell. ‘We’re too busy for that! There’s the Vap-A-Rise contract, plus a hundred and one projects in the pipeline, and George is still on probation. I want to make sure he gets the support—’
‘We’ll manage all that.’ Anna was firm. ‘No one is indispensable, Maggie, not even you.’
My heart knocked against my ribs as I processed what she was saying.
If the company didn’t need me, then who did?
I literally couldn’t think of anyone. I’d built my life around those who’d needed me.
First my sister Kat when she was young, until she met her lovely husband, and then Bronte and lastly, ShopSwift. Now nobody needed me.
‘Take some time off, find your spark again,’ Anna continued.
Panic flared in my chest. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’
‘I don’t know. But I do know that you won’t find it sending emails at three a.m.’
I shook my head. ‘I appreciate the offer and the thought behind it, but a sabbatical is the last thing I want. I’m sorry, Anna, but the answer is no.’
‘Is that so?’ She raised her eyebrows.
For a few seconds, we stared at each other, but I held my ground. She couldn’t make me, could she?
The lights changed to green. Anna stuffed her cup down into the holder before putting her hand on the gear stick and preparing to drive off.
What came next was one of those moments when time stretches interminably.
In the split second we started to move, my eye was caught by a pram hovering on the edge of the pavement.
The woman holding it released one hand from the handlebars to bring her phone to her ear, and the pram jolted forward, its front wheels tipping down into the road.
‘ Stop! ’ I screeched at the top of my lungs, bracing myself against the glove box.
Anna hit the brakes. The car slammed to a halt, causing the coffee in both of our cups to spill.
‘What the hell , Maggie?’ she yelled as boiling hot liquid splashed over her hand.
The woman, oblivious to the panic she’d caused, laughed into the phone, and pulled the pram back onto the pavement.
‘It’s fine,’ I said, breath whooshing from my lungs. ‘False alarm. Carry on.’
‘What, with a third-degree burn to my hand?’ Anna shot back. ‘You’re too kind.’
I barely acknowledged her; my heart was hammering hard against my ribs. What if the pram had gone into the road, what if Anna had accelerated, what if …?
‘I’m sorry, I saw the mum and baby and panicked,’ I stuttered.
‘Maggie!’ Anna snapped, startling me. She pulled the car over and let out a sigh of exasperation. ‘Now do you see why you need a sabbatical? You can’t carry on like this. You’re permanently on edge, and I’m constantly expecting you to fall off the cliff at any moment.’
I watched, numb, while she shook the coffee off her hand and found a tissue to wipe the spillage from the central console. Was that how she saw me? And others? I thought I was doing all right, coping.
‘A holiday, yes, that’s a good idea,’ I conceded. ‘But that’s all I need.’
‘You’ve lost your darling girl, your heart is broken, your soul deserves to be soothed.’ Anna gave my arm a little pat. ‘Take three months off and use them to gain some perspective. Life is short, Maggie.’
‘Don’t.’ I flinched and looked away.
‘Sorry,’ said Anna meekly, ‘this is raw for you, but you know I’m right. Go out and explore the world, find something that you like more than work.’
There wouldn’t be anything, I already knew that, but I could see I didn’t have much choice.
‘And then?’ I asked. ‘What happens when I get back?’
She held my gaze. ‘You come back to work and if you still want to be considered for a place on the board, I’ll support your application.’
My eyes welled with tears; I recognised a lifeline when I saw one.
‘Thank you,’ I mumbled.
‘So?’ She stared at me with anticipation. ‘What do you say?’
‘Okay.’ The sound of a death knell rang in my ears, but what choice did I have? ‘I’ll take the sabbatical.’