Chapter 6
A Dinner Date
A couple of days later, just before the end of my working day, Rob pops his head around the corner.
“Is Obi-Wan in?” he asks.
As a lead gameplay programmer, Rob is too low down in the company hierarchy to warrant much access to the big boss.
But Anders has an open-door policy – anyone can bring him anything and he will listen.
And Rob was one of Anders’s first hires; he has a special place in Anders’s heart.
Rob should be a section head, but he’d rather stay immersed in virtual characters and imagined worlds than deal with the messiness of real life.
I nod. But as Rob steps fully into view, he brings someone else with him. Ginny. And she’s sobbing.
I hover uncertainly, even as Rob knocks on Anders’s door.
“I need a word,” he says and I hear my boss’s reply, “Sure.”
Rob shepherds the weeping woman in and I trail along behind, concern for my friend overwhelming my desire to leave on time.
Rob looks directly at Anders. “Ginny and Piotr were a thing. Not anymore,” he summarises.
Anders looks up. “Thanks, Rob. I’ll take it from here.” And I see the relief flood across Rob’s face. Even though he likes Ginny, this mass of emotions causes him stress.
As I go to follow Rob out, Anders asks, “Cora, can you stay?”
I glance at my watch. I’m going to be late for Effie. But I nod and close the door quietly once Rob has left.
“Tea?” Anders prompts. It’s not a question for Ginny; it’s an instruction for me.
Although the workers have a communal kitchen and as much as Anders would like to practise what he preaches, if he uses it, he never gets any work done.
He has his own mini-station in his office, where he can make as many caffeinated beverages as he desires.
While Ginny sobs on Anders’s sofa, I make two cups, one for her, one for Anders.
He looks up as I place them on the table, eyebrow raised, and I shake my head once.
We’ve worked together long enough that’s all it takes for him to understand I don’t want to be later than I have to be.
He turns back to Ginny. He’s gentleness itself as he puts a hand on her arm and guides her to the tea.
The tissue Ginny is using to mop up her distress is close to total disintegration, so I busy myself with the practical task of retrieving a box from my desk and bringing it back to the sofa. Ginny has calmed enough to take a sip; her hands wrapped around the warm mug as if it is a lifeline.
“Oh, God,” she sighs. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Anders counters, the tinge of his American accent making the words feel genuine.
She sniffs twice before she continues. “He actually said, ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ I mean, of course it’s me. I’m not good enough for him.” She ends in a choked sob.
I sit beside her. I’ve been where she is.
All these years later, I realise it was a good thing, but I did not understand that at the time.
To have been shackled to Mike for years, watching him destroy Effie’s self-confidence would have been a far worse fate.
But back then, I was devastated, much as Ginny is now.
It’s a journey, and Ginny’s not ready to hear those words of wisdom yet.
Although she does need to understand this is not her fault.
“Bollocks!” I say, quailing a little at using strong language in the presence of my boss, but something has to cut through to Ginny.
“You’re beautiful and warm and kind.” I halt before I say, “And he’s not.
” I can’t bad-mouth Piotr, especially with his employer sitting close by.
Besides, Ginny will only defend him. After all, she loves him.
“But he’s perfect!” she wails. Clearly, not. Or he wouldn’t have dumped her at work.
“Nobody’s perfect,” says Anders. This is news to me. I strongly suspected Anders thought Anders was.
“One day you’ll be able to look at him and see that,” I add.
Ginny crumples with a groan, dropping her head down to her hands. “Oh, my God!” Her words come out muffled. “What am I going to do tomorrow morning? How can I look at him?”
I catch Anders’s eye over Ginny’s curled up body and give him a look that I think plainly says, “See. This is why you don’t date your boss.” But Anders merely smiles serenely back.
“Take tomorrow as compassionate leave,” he says to the messy head of red hair. “Cora will sort it for you.” It’s a kind gesture. Then, Ginny has the weekend before work on Monday. Hopefully, it will give her the time she needs to find some composure. Or, possibly, a new job.
Ginny sniffs her thanks.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Anders asks.
She shakes her head. Then, in a small voice, she says, “I just want to go home.”
“Get her a taxi,” Anders instructs. “Bill it to Cerium.”
I leave the room but keep the door ajar as I call a cab. When I return, Ginny is standing. “Can you get my stuff?” she asks.
I understand her reluctance. What if Piotr is still around, working late? I hurry to her desk, but no-one is in her section. Before anyone catches me, I grab her coat and bag and scurry back as fast as I can. Ginny’s already waiting by my desk, Anders by her side.
“Will you be okay tonight?” I ask as I help her with her coat.
“I’ll be fine,” she says, biting her lip.
I take her at her word, although I feel like a bad friend.
If books and films are to be believed, I should cancel my arrangements, take tomorrow off and turn up at Ginny’s home tonight with a bottle of gin and a tub of ice cream.
But I’m a single mother and Effie takes precedence. I can't play bestie to Ginny.
Dramatic as Ginny’s breakup is, it’s not at a crisis level where I’d want to burn through emergency favours.
Those are reserved for things involving hospital stays and life or death situations.
And every day of annual leave is precious, used to cover Effie’s school holidays.
A day spent with Ginny is a day not spent with Effie.
I harden my heart and keep my lips shut as I walk Ginny down to the entrance foyer.
The taxi is already waiting. I hug her and whisper, “Take care of yourself.” I want to say, “Call if you need anything.” But I can’t. Then she’s gone.
Upstairs, Anders is waiting. “I’m so sorry,” he says as I close down my computer and drop my notepad into my desk drawer, locking everything away.
I glance his way as I slip out of my court shoes and into the flats I wear to and from work. “It wasn’t your fault. No need to apologise.”
Anders hovers in the doorway to his office, one hand on the jamb. “I hope you won’t be in trouble with your nursery.”
Effie is in school, not nursery but I don’t bother to correct him.
“I sent them a text,” I say shortly. While I don't want him to feel bad for something out of his control, I also don’t want him to think it’s okay for this to happen regularly. Like all bosses, if you give him a cookie…
I give a tight smile before adding to his indebtedness by saying, “It’s just I have friends coming over tonight and God knows what I’m going to feed them.”
Straightening up, I slide into my coat and grab my tote.
“Good night,” I nod to him as I hurry around my desk.
He hasn’t moved and I feel his eyes on me as I walk towards the stairs.
They’ll be faster than the lift. I don’t know what he’s thinking, and it bothers me.
Was I too curt? Or not curt enough? The relief I feel as I turn the corner out of his sight is noticeable.
Forcing work and Anders from my mind, I concentrate on keeping within the speed limit as I drive.
A speeding ticket would blow my budget. I tell myself the world won’t end if I’m a little late for Effie but it would be disastrous if I hit someone.
But still, that imperative to get to my child as quickly as possible crowds my mind.
There are times when I kick myself for being a single mum.
Not for the decision I made to keep my baby, nor for the breakdown of the relationship with Mike.
He can’t even manage to be a father for two hours a fortnight.
Lord knows, I wouldn’t have been able to rely on him to be a father on a daily basis.
But perhaps I could have found someone if I’d dated.
Except I don’t have anyone to babysit Effie while I date. Paid sitters are out of my budget. My parents aren’t even on the same continent. I’ve no brothers or sisters to call on, and friends want the favour returned, but how could I do that?
If I could rely on Mike to turn up, maybe I could meet someone for coffee, but any prospective partner is going to want to move up that frequency sharpish.
Which means introducing them to Effie early, before I know whether they’re a good potential bet.
I’m sure there are kids out there who can tune out their mother’s changing lovers.
Effie isn’t one of them. She fixates on things.
She needs stability and security, and people who don’t disappear just when she’s learned to accommodate them.
Nor is Effie the type to make friends easily.
I don’t have a host of notes in her schoolbag from mothers of friends she has made who are desperate to have Effie back for tea.
She may yet find a friend or two, but Effie has been in childcare since she was two and the one friend she has is Max.
There is no reason to expect that to change anytime soon now that she is in school.
Rob has warned me she may not find another friend until she transfers to one of the bigger schools at eleven.
The result of it all is there’s no-one else. No-one I can call to grab Effie if I’m going to be late. Anders understands that and seldom asks me to stay without prior notice. Except today was necessary.