Chapter 1
FEbrUARY
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
— ROBERT FROST
Gemma shifted slightly in her seat, uncrossing her legs before recrossing them in the other direction. She glanced at the clock as she did so, carefully maintaining her nonchalant expression despite her gnawing nerves. She had a train to catch soon and she couldn’t be late. Not today.
She dropped her gaze back to the pages of the magazine in her lap, intrigued by the headline of an article which had claimed her attention.
Significant Others, it read, How Significant is Yours?
It wasn’t really the kind of question she could answer.
Not so much because the other person in her life was, or was not, significant, but more so because she really couldn’t think who this ‘other’ might be.
There was Leo, obviously, or rather, there had been Leo, once upon a time, but that was years ago, before everything changed, and since then…
She frowned, thinking back over the last few years, relationships which had come and gone – so no, not significant at all.
She pondered the meaning of the word, hard-pressed to think of anyone who remained significant in her life, romantic or otherwise.
There was her friend Cat, of course, but her father was gone, and as for her mother…
She was the most significant person Gemma knew – the one she had fought so hard for simply so that she wouldn’t be insignificant.
But death was a weighty opponent and it had never been a fair fight.
She thrust the thought away, appalled by the notion that her mother no longer counted. She would always count, always.
Gemma stared at the page. Others, others… Who else was there? She closed the magazine and put it back on the table she had taken it from, picking up a different one with a photo of a lush landscape on the cover. She hoped it wouldn’t ask such ridiculous questions.
She had reached the classified section at the back of the magazine by the time her name was called, and she got to her feet, fighting down her anxiety.
It was still early and she had allowed plenty of time for this morning’s appointment, but the delay was weighing on her mind, prickling at her carefully contrived appearance of calm.
Today was a good day though, she reminded herself.
It was when everything changed for the better.
Kay Evans had been her doctor for more years than she cared to remember, and while Gemma had never been a frequent visitor to the surgery, her doctor was the only one who knew her situation. As such, it made her very easy to talk to and therefore very hard not to cry in front of.
‘So, how are you feeling?’ she asked.
‘Better…’ Gemma smiled as proof. ‘I still have days when… you know. But, overall, I think I’m doing okay.’
Dr Evans nodded. ‘And are you sleeping any better?’
‘A little. But I think my body’s just got used to being awake.’
‘Because you think your mum might need you?’
Gemma dropped her gaze. The nights were still the hardest. ‘I guess it’s going to take a while before I realise I don’t need to listen out for her any more. It’s habit, I suppose.’
‘Yes, that’s understandable, and all of this is going to take a while, I’m afraid. Grief is one thing, but it’s also very easy to underestimate the impact that caring for your mum has had on you, especially when that caring comes to an end.’
Gemma swallowed.
‘Feelings of guilt are quite normal.’ Dr Evans had always had a knack of putting her finger straight on the problem and, while this was generally a good thing in a doctor, at times it was a little unnerving how easily she could read Gemma.
‘But you’re feeling better about things, you said. That’s positive news.’
‘Yes, definitely,’ Gemma agreed, taking the cue.
‘I’m starting a new job next week and signing the lease on a new flat which is close by, both of which I’m very much looking forward to.
I think it’s what I need.’ She nodded as if to reaffirm her decisions, although Dr Evans didn’t look quite as pleased by this news as Gemma had hoped.
‘I see…’ She turned away to study her computer for a moment. ‘So you’re already back at work then?’
‘Not really… I never actually went back to my old job. This new opportunity came up and… it’s all been a bit of a whirlwind, but as I was still on sick leave, we agreed that I didn’t have to work out my notice.
I’m going in to meet my new team this morning as it happens, as part of the onboarding process.
I start properly on Monday. But it’s my dream job; I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while and now that I’m free to…
’ She trailed off. ‘I’m really looking forward to getting my teeth into something. ’
Dr Evans tapped at her keyboard, her face expressionless. ‘I think I’d rather you took a little more time for yourself before embarking on something new, but I can understand your wanting to move on with your life. I hope it all goes well for you.’
‘Thank you. Yes, I’m sure it will.’
At exactly ten minutes to eleven, Gemma smoothed down her skirt, straightened her blouse and pushed open the door to Leonard Associates.
It had been a while since she’d worn clothes like these but, once upon a time, they had been her uniform.
The kind successful women wore. The kind which meant she was taken seriously, which told the world she had her shit together.
The scruffy sweatshirts and baggy leggings of the last year would no longer have a place in her wardrobe – her team were just about to meet their new creative director and she would not be found wanting.
She’d been impressed by the building’s foyer when she’d attended her interview.
It was sleek and expensive-looking and had a reassuring air of calm purpose.
Today, however, although admittedly still moving with purpose, none of the people who filled the atrium looked particularly relaxed or composed.
Perhaps her previous visit had simply been on a quiet day.
But then again, if they were working on a big project, if the deadlines were especially tight…
Gemma’s stomach turned another somersault.
How she had missed this – the hustle and bustle, the adrenaline rush, the buzz when it all came together last-minute.
She could do this. She absolutely could.
She’d been almost at the top of her game – almost, but not quite – and here, finally, was her opportunity to get there.
Pausing to let two women scurry past, their arms laden with files, Gemma crossed the echoing tiled floor and approached the glossy reception desk.
The young woman who sat there was on the phone and Gemma smiled graciously, taking a couple of steps back so she could finish her conversation unpressured by Gemma’s presence. She looked strangely harried as it was.
Gemma occupied herself by staring up at the atrium’s lofty ceiling, the centre of which rose in a glass column high above them affording small glimpses into the upper floors of the building.
Gemma wondered idly where her office would be – presumably somewhere near the top.
That was how it usually worked. She ran her tongue over the front of her teeth and surreptitiously adjusted a button on her blouse.
‘May I help you?’
Gemma spun around to face the receptionist, wearing her friendliest smile. ‘Hi, yes, I’m here to meet Neil McPherson. I’m Gemma Rowlands.’ She kept her smile firmly in place even though the receptionist’s own was slipping.
‘Erm, Neil?’
‘Yes, Neil McPherson. He’s head of the creative department…’ She faltered at the look on the receptionist’s face. ‘I’m going to be working with him.’
The receptionist looked down at her phone and then over Gemma’s shoulder, to the wide-open space behind her. She gave a nervous smile. ‘I know who Neil is, it’s just… Um, Neil doesn’t work here any more.’
Gemma frowned.
‘So I’m not really sure where to direct you and I…’ She looked at her phone again. ‘Perhaps you’d like to take a seat and I’ll see if I can get someone to come and speak with you.’
Gemma regarded the arrangement of bright orange fabric cubes to one side of the desk – modular and uncomfortable, the kind which really didn’t put you at your ease.
She lowered herself onto one, the receptionist’s words echoing through her head.
I’ll get someone to come and speak with you…
Someone? What did that mean? Gemma had no idea what could have happened, but if she couldn’t see Neil, presumably it would be his successor, or someone else from the department where she would be working – someone from her new team.
But whatever happened to the warm greeting she’d been anticipating?
Gemma, hi, how lovely to meet you. Welcome to Leonard Associates.
We’re so pleased to have you joining us.
This didn’t feel welcoming at all. The turbulence in her stomach notched up a gear.
By the time a high-heeled pair of shoes clicked their way across the foyer towards her, Gemma was beginning to feel faint, her anxiety levels reaching the point where the rest of the world started to pale from view.
The owner of the heels approached the desk and bent low, exchanging a few murmured words with the receptionist. She shook her head – once, twice – and then again for a third time before straightening and turning towards Gemma.
‘Hi, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’
‘It’s Gemma. Gemma Rowlands. I’m starting work today. I was meant to be meeting with Neil McPherson, only I gather he’s no longer working here?’
‘No, he’s… gone. My name’s Andrea, I’m head of HR.’ She pulled a face. ‘Or at least…’ She sat down next to Gemma. ‘I have no idea what I am any more. None of us do.’ She stared unseeing across the hall.