Chapter 2
It was one thing to try to hold her head high as she left her would-be place of employment, but quite another to endure the train journey home pretending all was well in her world.
Sitting there with a serene smile on her face so that everyone would look at her and think she was simply another smartly dressed businesswoman – the sort with a leather laptop case and a bento box containing her lunch.
The moment Gemma reached her car, however, the dam holding back her emotions reached breaking point, and it was only the fear of driving her car into a tree which kept the tears at bay.
‘Tears’ made it sound like they were a gentle trickle rolling poignantly down her cheeks, when what actually happened the moment she entered the safety of her house was more akin to the Pacific Ocean trying to exit a kitchen tap all in one go.
Near-hysterical crying and a torrent of snot.
Everything felt like loss, you see. Everything.
This job, the new flat… They were the only things which had kept her from dwelling on the losses already suffered, the only things which had offered some respite and a tentative path into the future, but now she had lost them too.
All gone. All her plans, all her hopes, even the odd dream, and she had no idea where that left her.
The worst part of it, and what hit her the hardest, was that deep down she knew these things were only a facade.
Delusions she’d been clinging to in the belief that they would provide a way out of the bleakness of the past few months, and up into the light she craved.
She’d told herself the move would be just what she needed, when the reality of it was that she couldn’t bear to leave her house.
Her memories were woven through the very fabric of the building, and for the last year or so those memories had become entwined with those of her mother.
Her tears which had fallen like summer squalls against the windows; her fears which had skulked along the crevices between the walls and the floor, lingering like smoke.
But it had also been her laughter which had chased away the fog on good days and flooded the house with sunlight.
Gemma had told herself that the new flat would be somewhere she could root herself, planting furniture and belongings like the seeds of a new beginning.
Except that it wouldn’t be, of course; it was a pretence, a desperate attempt at making herself feel better.
Just like the new job had been. She thought things would be easier if she had new colleagues and new friends, ones who wouldn’t know her recent past and wouldn’t ask the kinds of questions she didn’t want to answer.
What she truly needed though, was the exact opposite – people with whom she didn’t need to pretend.
People who understood. People like Cat. So when Gemma had cried herself out and dusted herself down, when she had quelled her mounting fear, and eaten half the bar of chocolate she had bought at the station without even tasting it, it was Cat she called first.
The second person she called was her old boss.
She and Abby had always got on well, and that had really showed in how good Abby had been to her while her mother was ill.
And while she hadn’t exactly voiced her disappointment at Gemma’s desire to move on from Mayfield Dawson, Gemma could tell it was there.
Admitting to today’s humiliation wasn’t something she would find easy but, as the old adage went, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and while she wasn’t that desperate yet, Gemma was done with fooling herself.
She had no job, and after next week would have nowhere to live either.
It was time to swallow her pride. She perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, smoothing both hands down her skirt in trepidation as she eyed her mobile phone, and then she snatched it up before her nerves got the better of her.
‘Gemma, hi… how are you?’ Abby sounded as if she was in the middle of something, but then she usually was. Probably typing an email. She was good at multitasking.
‘Not too bad, Abby, thanks. Is everything good with you?’
‘Oh… You know how it is.’ There was an amused release of breath. ‘Hectic as ever.’
Gemma took the hint. Besides, this wasn’t a social call.
‘Good… I mean, not good that it’s hectic, just good that you’re busy, that the agency’s still busy.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I was just wondering how things are going because I had a bit of a disappointment today and, well, things didn’t turn out as I’d hoped with the new job so—’
‘I know! We all heard about it… Blimey, you wouldn’t think somewhere like Leonards would go under, there but for the grace of God, but then it’s been a while coming, and once those rumours start, it’s very hard to quash them. And you know what they say – no smoke without fire.’
Gemma blinked. ‘You knew?’
‘What? About Leonards? No, not exactly… Just gossip, really, like I said.’
‘But you knew my new job was with them. Why didn’t you say anything when I told you?’
‘I just figured the rumours must have been exaggerated. Or that perhaps there was a job for you with Neil, with his new agency.’
‘No, the job was with Leonards, not him.’
‘Shit… Gemma, I’m sorry, but I thought you… Did you really not know?’
‘No, how could I have?’
Abby was silent, and Gemma could imagine what she was thinking. Perhaps even now mouthing at a colleague that it was Gemma on the phone and rolling her eyes in incredulity. Maybe it was obvious, but Gemma wanted to hear it straight.
‘So how come I didn’t know then?’ she pressed.
‘I didn’t think I’d taken my eye that far off the ball.
’ She half said it in jest, waiting for Abby to jump in and tell her not to be silly, but the silence lengthened, and pretty soon it was all too evident that not only had Gemma not been able to see the ball, she hadn’t even been able to see the playing field.
‘I’m sorry, Gemma,’ said Abby eventually. ‘But you had other things on your mind, and it was just office tittle-tattle. I honestly thought you would have known.’ She paused. ‘So where does this leave you?’
Gemma gave a nervous laugh. ‘Looking for another job, I guess.’
Abby’s breath sounded heavy from the other end. ‘We’ve already replaced you, otherwise I’d… And it’s Rachel, you know, one of the graduate crop from a couple of years ago, so it’s not even like it’s someone new.’
‘Rachel? But she hasn’t got half the experience—’
‘Gemma…’ interrupted Abby gently. ‘She’s been doing your job for the past year, to all intents and purposes. And she’s good, she’s—’
‘I see… I didn’t realise. I thought I was still covering my accounts. I thought my clients understood my situation.’
‘They might have, Gemma, but that didn’t mean it didn’t inconvenience them.
It didn’t mean they postponed their campaigns until you were ready to deal with them again.
I had to cover you, put someone in place to do the work you couldn’t, have endless phone calls and meetings with them to reassure them that we, the agency, weren’t working any less hard on their behalf, and that our advertising strategies were just as dynamic as they always had been.
Gemma, their business was worth hundreds of thousands of pounds to us.
Did you really think we could just put all that on the back burner? ’
‘No, but you said… I thought…’ Gemma swallowed. ‘You made it sound like everything was okay.’
‘And it was, because I made it okay. Gemma, I’m sorry. I know it sounds harsh, but I told you what you wanted to hear because you had enough on your plate and because… your work with us in the past counted for something.’
‘In the past?’ Gemma paused. ‘In the past, but not recently?’
There was an ominous silence from the other end of the phone.
‘Gemma, you know how it is in this game. People are only as good as their last successful campaign and it’s been a couple of years since you…
In any case, to make that happen, work has to be your highest priority.
All I’m saying is that, quite understandably, during the last little while, yours was not.
I’m sure things will be different now, but… ’
‘You can’t offer me a job.’
‘I can’t, I’m sorry. There aren’t any vacancies, but even if there was something at your level, business is business and I couldn’t comfortably recommend you for the type of role you’ve just left. The evidence to support any application just isn’t there.’
‘So what was I supposed to do? Let someone else care for my dying mother?’
‘Of course not, you did what you had to do. And God knows, it can’t have been easy. I couldn’t have done it, I know I couldn’t. It was probably the bravest and hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, and absolutely testament to the person you are. But you must have known there’d be… consequences.’
‘No, Abby, stupidly I didn’t. But that’s my fault, and my problem.’ She blinked rapidly, pressing her lips together for a few moments before she spoke. ‘Anyway, it’s good to talk to you, and thanks for your time, I quite understand.’
‘Look, Gemma…’ There was a sigh from the other end of the line. ‘I’ll keep my ears open, okay? And if I hear of anything, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thank you, that’s really kind, Abby— Oh, I’d better go, someone’s just rung the doorbell. Thanks again.’
Gemma hung up, staring at the front door, where there was, of course, no caller, no surprise visitor telling her she’d won a million pounds in the postcode lottery. If only. Wearily, she slid from the stool and flicked the switch on the kettle. Wasn’t tea the answer to everything?
It was tempting to give in, go to bed and let sleep, or what passed for it these days, provide a respite from the emotions assailing her. She wanted to cry. Or better yet, scream. Scream her indignation, anger, stupidity and naivety – all ably supported by the shifting foundation that was grief.