Chapter six
It’s fair to say that my boss Allen was a father figure to me.
He was the kind of patient, encouraging, reliable father I’d have liked, instead of the brooding bully Mum had landed me with.
Dad being a largely absent parent had once been a source of pain for me, but now, I’m not sorry to say, it was a relief.
Allen was your classic business accountant who’d been ‘about fifty-ish’ since his early thirties, and he’d been nothing but supportive since I’d started at Jacobs’ as his assistant.
He had that Good Dad knack of letting me get on with things myself without too much micromanagement, but he intervened on my behalf when necessary.
On the rare occasions when he did feel moved to dole out advice, it usually meant I was in danger of seriously messing up, which was why this ‘out of office’ meeting was giving me major anxiety vibes.
‘Thanks for trekking out here to see me,’ he said, when I found him in the golf-club lounge, wearing exactly the kind of golfing outfit I expected him to own, i.e., a polyester ensemble that looked cheap but probably cost a small fortune.
‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘This is just up the road from me now.’
Being in the middle of so much green countryside was still a novelty.
I’d only been in Longhampton five days, and I’d already downloaded an app that identified birdsong and bought some wellies.
Tomsk was snoring in the back of the car, preparing to investigate the nearby Forestry Commission woodland for his lunchtime walk.
He’d spent hours decoding the scent messages in Martine’s garden, the canal walk and the park, so a forest full of squirrels and foxes would be heaven.
He loved his new home. His tail even wagged in his sleep, which made me emotional.
‘So, are you settled in yet?’ Allen asked, waving at the waiter for more coffee. ‘It was this weekend, wasn’t it? The big move?’
‘Ah no. Slight change of plan.’ I explained yet again about the contract catastrophe – abridged version because even I was sick of it – finishing up by saying I was temporarily staying at Fraser’s mother’s house.
Allen choked on his biscuit.
I wasn’t the sort of person who Brought Their Whole Self to Work, far from it.
I only brought my Work Self to Work. Now, of course, I didn’t even do that.
But I’d been at Jacobs’ since I graduated, and obviously, in the olden days when office parties were still a thing, Fraser had come to one or two, so I’d introduced him to my colleagues.
That was as far as I wanted my private life to mix with office life, thank you.
Unfortunately, I’d had to book some annual leave for the Paris ultimatum weekend, and when Harriet, the office manager who’d never seen a date on the calendar that couldn’t be improved with helium balloons, had asked me if I was going somewhere nice, I’d stupidly told her that Fraser and I were having a surprise minibreak.
She asked, head tilting eagerly, if it was a special occasion, and I said, Well, I certainly hope so.
(I know. Reckless. But I was so excited, and Mali, Poppy and Sophie had convinced me I’d be coming back an engaged woman.)
When I did come back on Monday morning, newly single and wearing sunglasses to hide my alarmingly tear-swollen eyes, it was to a desk covered in confetti and a helium love heart tied to my phone.
Harriet was hovering in the kitchen with a Congratulations on Your Engagement cake which Allen had to grab from her, and stuff in his filing cabinet until I’d slunk off home.
I wish it had ended there, but it didn’t.
The whispers that stop when you enter the kitchen went on for weeks, as did the confetti I kept finding in my desk, and the tilty-head ‘how’s it going?
’ sad-faces. The trouble about being the focus of office gossip is that you stay the focus until someone is done for drink-driving or has an affair.
And we were a firm of extremely respectable accountants, so as you can imagine, I was ‘poor Beth’ for so long it almost became my official name.
Anyway, I mention this only to give Allen’s reaction some context. Back then, he’d sent me out of the office to do a three-day onsite audit, and spoken firmly to Harriet about ‘professional boundaries’; now, he said, in a neutral tone, ‘Your ex, Fraser? His mother?’
‘Yes. Martine.’
He looked pained. ‘You should have said, we’ve got a couple of clients who have short-term lets round here. Want me to give them a ring? I’m sure I could pull in a favour.’
‘It’s just temporary!’ I said breezily. ‘I’ve got somewhere lined up in a few weeks. All under control.’
‘Well, you only have to say the word.’ Allen sat back on the sofa, and gazed out at the view of the car park and the putting green as if steeling himself for the main event. ‘Speaking of fresh starts, that brings us rather neatly on to what I wanted to talk to you about.’
I nodded, and braced. I knew what was coming.
I’d been waiting for Allen to tackle my ongoing absence for months. There was nothing specific in my contract about having to be in the office (I’d checked) but it had been drawn up in the days before hybrid working was a thing.
It wasn’t as if I wasn’t ever going to go back.
But at a really basic level, none of my old work wardrobe fitted, and what was the point in spending hundreds of pounds on new clothes when I wasn’t going to be this size much longer?
If I put my mind to it, I could probably drop a dress size in, what?
A month or so? It was just that I felt weirdly nauseous and panicky when I thought about setting foot in the office again, seeing people look me up and down, whispering in the kitchen.
You’d think that would be a diet aid, but it was the kind of sick feeling that made me put another round of toast in the toaster.
‘Keep this between ourselves for the moment,’ said Allen, ‘but I’m stepping back in a few months’ time.’
What? I hadn’t expected it to be about Allen. ‘Are you taking early retirement?’
‘No, I’m launching a business – teaching sign language to parents and grandparents.’
My eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh.’
Allen beamed, pleased to have surprised me.
‘Yes, our grandson is deaf, and I thought, Why aren’t there any classes for grandparents like us to go to?
And signing has benefits for hearing children too, of course.
The company’s already up and running, Devora’s done the teaching qualifications, we’re all set! ’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘That’s . . . what a brilliant thing to do.’
‘Well. It’s time for a change. I’ve been telling people the same things about tax thresholds and VAT since I was twenty-one. There’s only so long you can do that. And I’ve registered for a film extras agency,’ he added. ‘Apparently I’ve got a very medieval face.’
He did too. Allen helpfully offered me a demonstration gurn, and now I looked closer, you could have put him on the side of a cathedral.
This was the most random conversation we’d had in the thirteen years we’d been working together. Allen seemed almost relaxed, a state I’d rarely seen him in.
‘What brought this on? If you don’t mind me asking?’
The cheeriness dimmed a notch. ‘Sad, really. A couple of my friends have had serious health problems lately. I’m not an old man, but you get to the point where you realise you don’t have an infinite number of days left.
I’ve got a decent pension, Devora and I are comfortable – time to let someone else tear their hair out over HMRC. ’
Did I mention that Allen was bald? He’d had a tough time with HMRC.
‘So, what this means for you,’ he went on – back to his tax-advising voice, ‘is that there’s going to be some changes at Jacobs’. Strictly off the record, you understand,’ he added, gesturing at the leather easy chairs and glass tables around us. ‘Golf club rules, and all that.’
This was the closest I’d ever got to one of those Boys’ Club Conversations On the Golf Course. I supposed I should be honoured.
I gave a quick Brownie Guide salute. ‘Understood.’
‘I would strongly advise you to spend some time in the office between now and then.’ Allen fixed me with a meaningful look.
‘I’m not going to ask why you’ve stopped coming in, and I’m not allowed to say that anyone has noticed, but someone asked me last week if you’d left.
And you should also know that there will be a new head of HR starting in a few weeks, because Lisa is also leaving – and before you ask, I have no idea why, she’s been very clear that she’s not answering questions, so it must be juicy – so I don’t know what the score will be there.
Christian will be taking over my role. He’s got big plans for the business, which is why we brought him in, and he’s already tabled a senior management discussion about five-year strategies.
’ He took a deep breath. ‘Off the record, Christian’s planning to interview everyone and reassess their strengths and weaknesses, and redeploy accordingly. ’
This sounded less good. ‘Is that a fancy way of saying he’s going to be sacking people?’
‘I don’t know that for sure yet. But there’s been discussion around streamlining the team.’
Which meant yes. I felt cold.
‘More to the point, Christian has particular views about working from home,’ Allen warned me. ‘He’s been vocal about getting everyone back into the office to build a high-performing team ethos.’
‘Allen, we’re accountants. We’re not rowing a boat across the Atlantic. It makes no difference whether I’m filing tax returns at home or five feet away from Christian’s desk.’