Chapter Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
Abi stayed up all night working on the mural in the bathroom and wouldn’t even stop at midnight when I finally succumbed to sleep.
She wanted to keep going while the flow was flowing.
I’d brushed my teeth over the kitchen sink as she wanted it to be a surprise, but I wasn’t about to wee in it as well.
I tiptoed down the corridor for a quick stealth wee before she arrived, but she was already up and in the bathroom, rustling about.
‘Morning,’ I croaked through the door.
‘Morning!’ Abi and Jimbo said at the same time.
‘You’re here early,’ I said. ‘Or didn’t you go home?’
‘I slept for a few hours,’ Abi said, sliding her way into the corridor with her Starbucks. ‘Then Jimbo brought me my rocket fuel an hour ago and I got going again.’
‘I’m an early riser, me,’ Jimbo added. ‘Paint while the sun’s out, then knock off at four.’
Abi was blocking the bathroom door.
‘I’m going to need to get in there,’ I said.
‘You can’t look at anything – you’ll freak. It’s in a very unfinished state.’ She disappeared back in and came out holding my froggy-eyed headband. ‘In fact, would you mind wearing this?’
‘As a blindfold?’
She nodded.
‘Yes, I would mind! Don’t be so ridiculous – I’ll just close my eyes.’
‘Fine but make it quick. I’m on a schedule to get it finished before I go back to LA next weekend, so every second counts. You don’t want a half-painted wall!’
‘Nooo! You’re not going back already? That’s gone so quick. Although you’ll get to see your two boys I suppose – well, one man, one dog.’
‘I know. I’ve missed them both. Three months filming in Brazil has felt like forever – for Tony and for me! But it’s all finished now and he’s on his way back. He said he’ll bring Nero with him to pick me up from the airport.’
‘Ahh, how sweet.’ I was so glad Abi had found her one in Tony. They doted on their Italian dog, Nero, and were such an adorable little threesome. Wholesome and happy. Despite living in LA LA Land.
I didn’t even peek at the bathroom floor, shading my eyes as I went in and out – a prisoner in my own home.
Already back on the boring breakfast treadmill of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes and tea, I debated going to Mum and Dad’s for a shower while Abi and Jimbo did their thing, then had another cup of tea and watered the plants.
It was 8.30 a.m. in Norway, so Henrik was awake over there – why hadn’t he been in touch?
I checked every inch of my phone for the thousandth time since I’d left, but there was nothing.
Text, email, WhatsApp, Facebook, LinkedIn.
Fifty ways to communicate with your lover.
I’d already sent three messages – none of which he’d opened – and I didn’t want to look unhinged.
As I stared at my phone it lit up, and for a millisecond my heart stopped, thinking it might be him. But it wasn’t. It was work.
Cheryl: Hey stranger. How are things? Are you feeling up to a call?
My insides went all funny. What day was it?
What date was it? My time off couldn’t be up already, surely?
Cheryl had poked her head through my protective force field and was trying to reconnect me with the real world.
I thought back to that last day in the office: the call with Danny Jackson and his desperation to have us represent Micky Maloney.
I half-wondered where the case was up to, but the fire I’d had around keeping it all for myself, and away from Bobby, had gone.
I’d been trying to prove myself to the partners for far too long when my win record spoke for itself.
Every one of my cases was just another meaningless gold star – in a forever line of meaningless gold stars – towards a promotion that was never going to happen.
I loved being a barrister, but not at all costs. Not anymore.
Me: Really good! I’m back from my retreat and feeling refreshed. Sure, let’s have a call. Tomorrow afternoon?
I nearly dropped my phone as it started ringing, I stared at it for a few seconds, knowing I had no choice but to answer.
‘I’ll take that as a now then, shall I?’
‘Time waits for no man – or woman – Sara, tempus fugit and all that.’ Cheryl’s low drawl was as familiar to me as my own mother’s. ‘How are things? How are you feeling?’
‘Good! Fine! Happy, relaxed.’
‘Any more panic attacks since you’ve been off?’
‘Nope.’
‘OK, that’s good news. Look, Sara, I’m going to shoot straight with this as we’re both busy people and I respect you too much to pussyfoot around.
Antony wants me to offer you a redundancy package.
It’s your choice entirely and we can massage the narrative to be whatever you want it to be – but we’re dropping headcount this quarter and he thinks it’s only right you have first refusal when you haven’t been well. ’
‘What?! Why? I’ve only been out for a few weeks.’ I couldn’t grasp what she was saying. Was I being fired?
‘The firm has some serious money issues – hard to believe with the hourly rate we charge, I know, but we’re going through a process and need to cut costs by twenty per cent asap.’
I was shocked and… scared. I’d be having money issues too if I lost my job. ‘I had no idea. Antony’s never mentioned any problems before.’
Cheryl sighed. ‘Consider yourself lucky. One of the many benefits of not being a partner. Believe me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘Can I come in and see you both? Have a meeting to discuss it?’ My heart was racing as I tried to take it all in.
‘You absolutely can. Although you’re still signed off for a few more weeks, so legally we couldn’t see you until then.
We need to make sure you take the full two months before you come into work.
But honestly? It’s a clusterfuck here right now.
You’re best off out of it. We’re letting a lot of people go, and Antony and I are in non-stop meetings trying to sort it all out. ’
I pushed my feet into the floor to try and ground myself, as the blood rushed to my head, but I couldn’t feel my feet or the ground. My whole body felt centred in my lungs and my breathing had gone shallow. I couldn’t control it.
‘As I said, your package is an option – unlike the others.’
‘And if I opt to say no?’
‘Then we’ll save the money elsewhere.’
‘Right.’ I was totally stunned.
‘Why don’t I email the details over and you can have a read through and think about it?’
Like I had a choice. ‘Sounds like a plan. Although I’m blocked on work email. Can you send it to my personal email – chocolate cake at Gmail dot com?’
‘Sure. Very professional. I’ll be in touch in a couple of weeks if I don’t hear from you before. It’s a generous offer, Sara. See it as an opportunity.’
Easy for you to say, I thought, as I silently hung up.