Chapter 14
Unable to figure out where Mum and Jackson could have gone, Theo and I had taken PC Graham Smithers’ advice to wait things out a while longer. Theo had headed home in anticipation of his son’s return, and I’d gone upstairs for a shower.
I stood, eyes closed, as steaming hot water flowed over me and with my hair shampooed and my body soaped, I’d hoped to rinse away the day’s stresses along with the bubbles. But it was easier said than done. Thanks to the day’s events my mind refused to quieten.
I worried about Mum being out so late and questioned why she hadn’t forewarned me.
I wondered what the story was with Theo and Jackson and was curious as to the whereabouts of Jackson’s mother.
Snapshots of Rory and Callum flitted through my head, along with every condescending remark they’d made.
Even the harassed women I’d seen through the café window made an appearance.
Instead of relaxing, my brain remained a muddle of one issue after another.
I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, hardly able to recognise myself.
Once calm and collected, anxiety now ruled and I had the tolerance of a rattlesnake.
My default setting sat somewhere between mild annoyance and deep irritation, with the odd bout of toe tingling rage thrown in for good measure.
I let out a heavy sigh. ‘Maybe you’re the one who’s losing it. ’
Perimenopause had a lot to answer for.
I reached for the pyjamas I kept at Mum’s specifically for the nights I stayed over.
Putting them on, my foot caught in one of the bottom’s legs and my heart raced as I grabbed the sink to stop me from toppling over.
‘See. You can’t even stay on your feet.’ I pictured myself racing through the house earlier that evening, only for Mum to come home and find me passed out on the bathroom floor.
The irony wasn’t lost. Although at the rate Mum was going, I’d have been laid there all night.
Mum would no doubt have her excuses. ‘First you tell me I’m not locked in a dungeon. That I need to get out more… and now you’re annoyed because I took your advice. I can’t win.’
Like she’d have appreciated me taking off without warning; something I planned to make clear.
I exited the bathroom and made my way down to the lounge to get the fire going. I might have had a few choice words to say to Mum when she got back, but it was cold outside and the least I could do was make sure she was comfortable while she listened to them.
Crouching down in front of the hearth, I made a tower of kindling and coal.
I strategically placed firelighters within the structure and striking a match, ignited them.
The flames grew from flickers to licks and satisfied the fire was properly ablaze, I stood up and placed the guard in front of it.
After the day I’d had, it would have been just my luck for an ember to spit onto the rug and set the whole house alight. No way was I taking any chances.
I headed to the kitchen to make myself a fresh cup of tea and grabbing my laptop and phone on the way back, I settled myself down on the sofa. Rather than do nothing, I decided to make a start on my presentation and mug in one hand, I fired up the computer with the other.
Unable to believe Rory would humiliate me the way he’d done, tea sip after tea sip, I stared at the blank screen.
Tell them to stick their presentation, one inner voice said.
She can’t, another replied. She’s got bills to pay.
As their argument continued, I knew I’d no choice but to listen to the latter and cup empty, I put it down and took a deep breath ready to type. I’d done enough training courses and team-building events to know which buzz words to throw around so rather than make notes, I dove straight in.
Good morning, everyone, I wrote.
The cursor flashed as if willing me to continue but I was nothing if not honest. There wasn’t anything at all good about the situation I’d been put in and nor would there ever be. I refused to say something I didn’t mean and hitting delete, I sat fingers poised, ready to try again.
Hello you bunch of miserable morons. You wouldn’t know a team player if I put you into a circle and asked about your favourite emoji. Yet here we are…
Better but still not right, I deleted my words for a second time.
Part of me still wondered why I was bothering.
After the way I’d been treated, it wasn’t like I wanted to work with Rory and Callum and rather than tell myself it was a case of needs must, wouldn’t my time be better spent updating my CV?
I pictured Kelly, Tricia and Melissa hanging around the water cooler, each wearing contoured make-up and adoring smiles. They giggled at something Callum had said and while he basked in their adoration, Melissa pulled out her phone and held it up.
‘Camembert,’ she said, ready to take a group selfie.
As Kelly, Tricia and Melissa pouted and Callum grinned for the camera, Rory admired his team from the ivory tower that was his office.
He might not have been as young as the others, but in his sad pathetic way, he’d always considered himself just as hip.
While inserting myself into the image, I sat at my desk getting on with what I was being paid to do.
I leant back on the sofa and pinched the bridge of my nose.
Was that the issue? I simply didn’t fit.
Did the real motive behind Rory’s presentation request have less to do with team players and was more about squeezing me out?
After all, we lived in an age of social media where companies sold an image as much as they did a service or a product.
Not that the camera hated me and I certainly wasn’t frumpy or old before my time.
I was just too confident, too honest and too wise to care about popularity contests, in person or online.
For me, the clue to social media was in its name.
My eyelids felt heavy and closing them I told myself whatever Rory’s reasoning was it didn’t matter. Updated CV or not, I had to keep my job and that was that.