Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
I ’m rigid with fear, unable to look at her, the shock having rendered me mute. This was not how tonight was meant to go.
Karla takes my silence as a welcome opportunity to reprimand me.
‘What does it say on your medical certificate again?’ She’s clearly enjoying watching me squirm. ‘Ah yes, stress and anxiety. You don’t look particularly anxious to me.’ She sniffs the air. ‘Is that alcohol I smell?’
This is not good. I may be signed off from work for genuine reasons, but bumping into her here definitely does not work in my favour. And especially not when I’ve been on the Champagne. Why did this have to happen tonight, of all nights?
With my stress response in overdrive, I’m late catching onto the reality of the situation. First, that Karla’s standing too far away to smell anything. Second, she looks like she’s had a few more than me. However, as comforting as these revelations are, they do little to get me out of this unbearable confrontation .
Obviously well aware that she has the upper hand, Karla continues to make the most of her fortuitous find.
‘ Tut tut , Emma. HR will not be tolerant of this. Probably amounts to gross misconduct, in fact, faking an illness.’ There’s a slight slur detectable in her voice.
She walks towards me, only coming to a stop when I’ve been treated to a mouthful of her sickly, musky perfume. I can also smell alcohol on her breath. Repulsed, I take a step back.
‘What’s the matter? Finally realised you’re expendable? Took you long enough ,’ she sneers, wobbling slightly.
A huge swell of anxiety rises within me. This is too much for my already challenged brain and body to cope with. Especially with her threatening my job and career while she bullies me into submission. My friends have their suspicions that she’s bluffing over firing me, and I’ve so wanted to believe them. But that nagging voice of worry in my head always overrules any rational thought. After all, if she sees me as a threat, would it not be better to get rid of me? She could always find someone else to dump her workload on.
I’m at the point where I think I’m going to pass out, aware that my body can only endure so much stress, when my ‘flight’ instinct suddenly kicks in. I dodge out of her way and make a beeline for the door, Karla’s gleeful laugh taunting me as I go.
Once I’m outside the toilets and in relative safety, the familiar feeling of regret kicks in. Why couldn’t I have stood up to her – for once? Why does she always get the better of me? I stop and steady myself on the wall, gulping down deep breaths in a bid to calm my racing heart and the shaky feeling in my legs.
Then something strange happens. I stop trembling, the heat in my face subsides and I find myself regaining some control. I’m still terrified of her but I suddenly feel a primal urge to defend my position. She’s the one in the wrong here. She’s always been catty and nasty, but this is too far. I’ve been through hell over the last two weeks, and the moment I’m starting to get back on my feet, she does this. Bullying me in the office is one thing. Threatening me outside of work is quite another.
I’m in a strange moment where time seems to have stopped, and it’s like I’m watching myself from a few steps away. My brain is battling with itself: one part telling me to run back to my friends, while another is building momentum, saying enough is enough. As Cat has quite rightly pointed out, I haven’t actually done anything wrong. This is all about control, about keeping me down, and continuing to steal the credit. She’s nothing without me.
I take one more deep calming breath, then I turn around and walk straight back into the toilets, where Karla’s topping up her lipstick in the mirror. She seems surprised to see me return, but at the same time delighted at the opportunity to have another pop at me. She looks almost feral, eyes narrowed, a nasty superior expression on her face.
‘Come back to grovel, Emma?’
‘No. I’ve actually been thinking about what you said, Karla...’ I’m not yet sure where I’m going with this, but my survival instincts seem to have well and truly kicked in.
‘And?’ She folds her arms and leans against one of the sinks with a gloating smile.
‘I suppose you’re right. I mean, here I am, signed off with stress and anxiety, and I have the audacity to be out enjoying myself.’
The smug look remains, but it’s fixed, as if she’s detected that this isn’t quite moving in the direction she expected .
‘Of course. Getting out and living would actually… how do I put it… oh, yes… help me with my recovery.’
I’m barely able to fathom the words coming out of my mouth, and I can see Karla’s trying to think of a smart response to regain the upper hand, but I’ve caught her off guard. She expected my usual submissive response.
‘I see what you’re doing,’ she says. ‘You may be able to hide behind those ridiculous HR policies – for now. But you’ll slip up again, Emma, and next time you’d better watch out.’
‘Watch out for what exactly?’ I’m still full of disbelief that I, Emma Blake, am taking her on. ‘That you drunkenly confronted and threatened me while I was on sick leave? I’m sure the “ridiculous” HR department would be pleased to hear about that.’
I pause for effect. This time I’ve really shocked her into silence. How am I doing this? Thankfully she can’t mind read, because that would definitely lose me this one.
‘And just to top it off,’ I continue. ‘I can add in you stealing credit for my work – of which I have a lot of evidence.’
‘ You wouldn’t dare. You don’t have the guts.’
I can tell I’ve really riled her now. She’s clearly not used to people standing up to her and she’s getting desperate. This tells me that her bark and her bullying must be a cover for the fact that, deep down, she’s no better with true confrontation than I am.
‘Oh, I would, Karla . Things have changed for me more than you know.’
I see her shift uncomfortably. She doesn’t know what’s at the root of this unexpected transformation, but I can tell she’s convinced by it.
‘Lucky for you…’ I’m now on full autopilot. ‘I have other op tions. You can consider this my verbal notice of resignation. My formal letter will be in the post tomorrow.’
‘You what? You can’t just resign like that.’
‘I can. And I just did.’
What the hell am I doing? Alarm bells clang in my head, but my autopilot ignores them.
‘You know what’s even better than outing you through a formal process?’ I go in for one final swipe. ‘It’s knowing that you’ll crash and burn all by yourself without someone in the background doing your work for you.’
With that, I turn on my heel and sweep out of the ladies toilets, leaving my speechless, soon-to-be ex-boss behind.