by Cassie Hamer
For a millisecond, she believed him.
For once, Angel was sitting. There was no one else in the conference room and the emptiness of the eleven other seats only served to double Jamie’s nerves.
‘You’re late.’ Angel glared over the rims of leopard-print reading glasses.
‘Sorry, sorry. Just got caught up at—’ A meeting with our wedding celebrant where Jared declared he may have a love child. ‘Oh, never mind.’ Jamie waved her hand. ‘I’m very sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘Well, let’s hope it was worth the wait.’ Angel’s voice was cold. It wasn’t like her. Jamie’s nerves were now spiralling out of control as she fumbled with the power cord to plug her laptop into the projector.
‘Here, let me.’ Ben leapt to her side and took the cord from her hands. She gave him a grateful smile.
‘Well, let’s begin.’ Jamie stood as her first slide came up on the projector screen.
Forward Strategy for Spin Cycle: Developed by Jamie Travvers
She had another presentation on the laptop as well, titled Opportunities for PR Consultancies in Dubai which she would deliver second. At the end, Angel would give her unbiased opinion on which strategy had the most potential.
‘I thought you were going to present a business plan,’ said Angel sharply.
‘I … I … er … I am,’ Jamie stuttered. ‘This is a strategy. A plan.’
Angel sighed. ‘A forward strategy is not a business plan, Jamie. I thought you knew that.’
‘I’m sorry, but I thought you wanted big-picture stuff. Where I want to take the company. Understand my vision for what Spin Cycle can be.’ Jamie’s fingers trembled. She felt Ben take a protective step closer.
He cleared his throat. ‘Angel, if I can just step in there. I helped Jamie put this presentation together and I think you’ll find it contains all the information you’re looking for—cash flow, projected growth, earnings and expenses—it’s all there, if you just give Jamie a chance.’
‘Very well then. Continue.’ Angel leant back in the chair and closed her eyes, which is what she did when she wanted to concentrate.
Thank you, Jamie mouthed to Ben. He nodded and clenched his fingers into a fist as if to say Be strong. You can do this.
But she couldn’t.
The figures swam before her eyes and the words seemed nothing more than meaningless squiggles and dots. Jared’s revelation had completely thrown her. How could she concentrate on work when her entire relationship was on the line?
As Angel grilled her on the specifics of each plan—‘How do you account for 8 per cent growth for Spin in the coming financial year?’ ‘Name the top five PR consultancies in Dubai and explain how yours will be different?’—Jamie felt the room becoming more stuffy.
After the fifth question about the impact of technology on the ‘PR space’ in both Dubai and Australia, Jamie collapsed into a chair.
‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered.
‘What did you say?’ Angel leant forward. ‘Why are you sitting?’
‘I’m not feeling very well.’ Jamie put her head between her knees.
‘Here, have this.’ Ben touched her shoulder and pressed a glass of water into her hands. Jamie gulped gratefully.
‘Jamie, I don’t know what’s going on with you but quite frankly, on the basis of these presentations, I don’t think you’re qualified to run anything more than a game of bingo, let alone operate my business, or your own.’ Angel removed her glasses. ‘I expect more from you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jamie weakly. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
Angel huffed. ‘If you’re talking about this hare-brained wedding of yours, I have no sympathy. You’re in PR. Event organisation is our bread and butter.’
‘Please, just one more chance.’
Angel stood and rested her knuckles on the table. ‘All right. I’ll give you one chance to redeem yourself.’ She paused. ‘The Nala show. It’s happening in four weeks, April seventh, and it’s all yours.’ She rapped her knuckles. ‘You put on the best fashion show Australia’s ever seen and I’ll give you a choice—either take over here at Spin, or go to Dubai with my blessing, and a personal introduction to an old friend of mine who happens to be the General Manager of Dubai’s tourism corporation.’
Jamie thought quickly. April seventh. Two days before her wedding day.
She sucked in a breath. ‘I’ll take it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Usually, Lisa looked forward to Tuesday afternoons and the forty-five minutes of peace that came from Ava and Jemima being ensconced in their ballet class while Lisa read her book or checked her phone or ducked out for a coffee, like all the other mothers usually did. The grey and dingy waiting room was always deserted and relatively quiet except for the background sounds of tinkling piano tunes and Miss Tenille shouting, ‘Princess toes. I want Princess toes, my precious little primas.’ Princess toes meant pointed toes, and the reference to primas was of course to prima ballerinas. It made Lisa giggle. Prima ballerinas they were not! For all Miss Tenille’s exhortations to the girls to demonstrate elegance and grace, the sound that emerged from the classroom more closely resembled that of a stampeding herd of pygmy hippos. The more loudly she demanded ethereal lightness, the more loudly they stomped. Today was no exception. As the thuds grew louder and more violent, Lisa found Ellie’s hand creeping into her lap.
‘What are they doing in there?’ The little girl’s eyes were round and slightly frightened.
‘It’s all right, darling. They’re just dancing. But not very well.’ She inclined her head conspiratorially. ‘Don’t tell them I said that.’
Ellie nodded seriously.
Lisa had tried to get her into the same ballet class as Ava and Jemima but there wasn’t a single place to be had—Scott and Lisa obviously weren’t the only parents happy to pay $50 a week for the privilege of allowing their daughters to stamp around a room for half an hour and fail miserably in their efforts to emulate graceful butterflies.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get you into the class.’ Lisa squeezed her hand. ‘We’ll try again next term.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Ellie doubtfully.
‘No really, I will try.’ The little girl gave a worried frown. Maybe she didn’t actually want to do ballet? Ellie was so polite, it was sometimes difficult to know exactly what she wanted—so different to Ava and Jemima who bellowed their demands on a minute-by-minute basis.
‘But only if you want to, Ellie. How about you have a trial lesson and if it’s a bit scary, you don’t have to do it. Okay?’
‘Will you be there?’ Ellie asked.
‘Of course. If you want me to be.’
‘Okay,’ said Ellie happily. ‘That sounds good.’ She swung her legs under the seat.
Not for the first time, Lisa marvelled at Ellie’s resilience. She was such an easygoing child and she’d fit into the family with far more ease than Lisa had expected. There was something calming about her presence. Certainly, it had changed the dynamic between Ava and Jemima. Normally, the competition for Scott and Lisa’s attention came down to a battle of who could yell the loudest. Now, the girls were competing for Ellie’s attention and they’d quickly discovered that she didn’t respond to being shouted at, as that tended to send her into Lisa’s protective arms. But she did respond to gentility and quiet requests for games. Of course it probably wouldn’t last. The novelty of Ellie would soon wear off, Lisa wasn’t naïve enough to expect any different. But still, for ten days of relative peace and quiet, the introduction of a new family member had been well worth it. Besides, it would only be for a short time. Jeff had seemed confident of getting results. Lisa may as well enjoy the marked improvement in her children’s behaviour, even if it was only temporary.
For a moment, the music and the stomping stopped and the waiting room was quiet. Ellie leafed through a tattered picture book out of the bedraggled collection of toys and puzzles in the corner, specifically put ther
e for bored siblings of the primas. Then she sighed and closed it.
‘Lisa, can I ask you something?’
‘Certainly, sweetie. What is it?’
‘Where’s my mummy?’
Lisa’s stomach clenched. ‘You know where she is. She’s gone away, for work.’
‘But where?’
‘I’m not exactly sure of the name, but it’s a long way away. Overseas. That’s why it’s taking a little while for her to get back.’
Ellie bit down on her trembling lip. ‘When will I get to see her?’
‘At some point, darling. You’ll definitely see her again at some point.’
Lisa put her arm around her and felt the child shaking in her arms. This was too much. The truth was that Missy’s note had been so vague that Lisa had no idea if and when Ellie would see her mother at all, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to break the child’s heart. Besides, deep down, she had to believe that Ellie would see her mother again. Jeff would find Missy and somehow they’d convince her to come back for Ellie—she was such a gorgeous child who’d clearly been well loved. Obviously, something had gone catastrophically wrong, but what? She made a mental note to text Jeff and see if he’d made any progress. Nearly a week had passed since the meeting, and there’d been no news at all.
After a few minutes of Lisa stroking Ellie’s back, the little girl’s shaking had slowed to large and irregular sniffles. Lisa offered her a tissue and Ellie blew obediently.
‘Are you okay, darling?’
‘Yes,’ she said in a shaky voice.
‘You know we’re so, so happy that you’re with us, don’t you?’
Ellie nodded.
‘Give me a hug.’ Lisa opened her arms and Ellie climbed into her lap and buried her head into Lisa’s chest. She was still so small. Lisa felt terrible.
‘Can you give me something?’ Ellie’s voice was muffled.
‘Anything, darling. What would you like? A chocolate? I think I’ve got one in here somewhere—’ But as Lisa reached for her bag, Ellie caught her face gently between her two hands and locked eyes with her.
‘Will you promise me that I’ll see her soon?’ Ellie’s eyes were so infinitely blue, they reminded Lisa of a midday summer sky.
‘Yes, definitely. Cross my heart and hope to die,’ Lisa said solemnly, feeling the sickly sensation of knowing she’d just committed to something she had no absolute certainty of achieving.
Mothers clutching coffee cups and wrangling tired, bored siblings started drifting back in. Soon, the pygmy hippos would stampede into the room like a giant flood of creaming soda with their pink leotards and even pinker faces, reddened from too much wild stomping.
Lisa quietly read to Ellie the picture book she’d been leafing through earlier. It was the story of a little girl who had two left feet but loved to dance. Ellie was entranced and Lisa made a second mental note to check again whether she might be able to join the ballet class earlier than term two.
On the last page, Lisa’s phone rang. A number she didn’t recognise.
‘Lisa, is that you? It’s me, Ben. Jamie’s assistant.’
This was strange. Why was he ringing her? They’d met once or twice but Lisa was quite sure she’d never given him her number. ‘Ben, what’s wrong?’
A beat of silence. ‘Something has happened to Jamie.’
Lisa froze. ‘What is it? What’s happened? Is she all right?’ For Ellie’s sake, she tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but she could see she was failing as the little girl’s face darkened.
‘She’s all right. She’s safe. She’s here at work.’ Ben paused. ‘But she had a disastrous meeting with Angel, and I think something happened with Jared earlier, with their celebrant.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Crying in her office.’ Ben hesitated. ‘I’ve tried talking to her, but she says she only wants you.’
‘Of course,’ Lisa said efficiently, not betraying the whirl of thoughts in her head. Scott was at work, which meant she’d have to take the girls. Not ideal. But Jamie never cried, she always said she’d used up her lifetime’s supply of tears when their mum and dad died, and she rarely asked for help, which meant she must really need it. ‘I’ll be there right away.’
As Lisa hung up, the little primas swarmed in and filled the grey room with colour and excited chatter.
Like slippery little fish, Ava and Jemima threaded through the crowd and tried to pile onto Lisa’s lap, where Ellie was still sitting.
‘Girls, girls. Wait. Please.’ Lisa stood up, causing all three to tumble off.
‘Mummy,’ Ava grumbled. ‘I just wanted a cuddle.’
‘I’m hungry,’ whinged Jemima. ‘I want dinner, NOW!’
Ellie just waited.
‘Girls, get your jackets on.’
Lisa helped Jemima while Ellie helped Ava.
‘Aren’t we going home, Mummy?’ said Ava.
‘No, darling. We’re off to visit Aunty Jamie.’
‘Yay,’ the three girls shouted in unison, and as they trooped towards the door, Lisa thought how much easier life would be if everyone remained a child forever.
Five pm and the city traffic was grid-locked. Based on Ben’s excellent directions, Lisa knew they were only two blocks from Jamie’s office. But in front of her was a sea of red tail-lights.
‘Mummy, I’m hungry,’ grumbled Ava from the back seat.
‘Here, darling, share these.’ Lisa reached into the glove-box and produced the packet of Pringles she kept in there for emergency situations.
‘Chippies,’ Jemima cheered as her sister carefully doled them out.
Lisa went back to day-dreaming out the window as the girls munched away happily. The footpaths were filling with office workers on their way home and everyone was so smartly dressed. Sharp suits, skinny ties, pin-point high heels, beautifully tailored skirts. Lisa took in her own attire—loose jeans, canvas sneakers, and a grey sweatshirt. It was strange to think she had once belonged to this well-dressed tribe. When was the last time she’d worn high heels? Did she actually own any? She had a vague recollection of some dust-encrusted, black suede pumps in the far reaches of her wardrobe, but possibly they were a pair of Scott’s work socks, accidentally thrown into the wrong spot. All her work clothes were a size too small now. Even though she’d lost all the baby weight from Jemima, she’d had to accept that her two, four-kilo darlings, had forever altered the shape of her rib cage.
‘You wouldn’t bloody believe it,’ whispered Lisa under her breath as she spotted a free car spot outside of Jamie’s building. It was a sign. Jamie must really need her. There was an actual sign designating the spot a loading zone, but Lisa figured that with three children in a station wagon she’d be able to make a good case to any skulking parking rangers.
‘You said a rude word, Mummy,’ chirped Ava from the back seat. ‘You said bloody. Daddy’s not allowed to say that word.’
‘I didn’t swear, darling. I said … um … ruddy, not … er … that other word.’
‘What does ruddy mean, Mummy?’
‘It’s something that’s red,’ said Lisa, craning her neck to reverse park into the spot.
‘So, a fire truck isn’t red, it’s a ruddy fire truck?’ questioned Ava innocently.
‘Not really, darling,’ said Lisa, feeling herself descending into one of those parental rabbit holes that seemed to have no end. ‘It’s a bit hard to explain, and look! We’re here at Jamie’s work. Let’s go.’
As they piled into the lift, Lisa texted Ben to let him know of their arrival and when the doors opened, he was there to greet them in Spin’s glamorous foyer.
‘Hi, Lisa.’ Ben gave a grim smile before kneeling down to the girls. ‘Hello, ladies, I’m Ben,’ he said brightly and offered each child a high-five. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you guys and I’ve heard you all really hate chocolate biscuits.’
‘Noooooo,’ said Ava, smiling. ‘We love them.’
‘Well, that’s just as well be
cause I have a whole packet in the kitchen. Who wants to come with me?’
‘Me!’ The girls threw up their hands in unison, their eyes as sparkly as the pristine glass walls around them.
‘Thanks, Ben,’ said Lisa gratefully as he led them towards the oversized doors emblazoned with the Spin Cycle logo.
‘This way, ladies.’ As Ben headed left, he gestured to Lisa to go right. ‘Down that way,’ he said, pointing discreetly.
What a thoughtful man, thought Lisa, to refrain from mentioning Jamie’s name knowing that if he did, the girls would demand to see her straight away.
Things must be bad.
Lisa crept down the hallway, looking timidly over the tops of work stations and through office doorways. Although she’d never been there before, the place was gut-churningly familiar in the way that all offices tended to be. Whirring computers, grey carpet, the woody smell of paper, coffee-stained mugs on desks. She shivered. No, she didn’t miss this.
As she approached the final door on the left, Lisa could hear sniffing and sobbing.
Jamie?
Lisa was so well acquainted with the sound of Ava and Jemima’s crying that she didn’t even need to see their faces to know which one would be soaked in tears—Ava screeched like a scalded cat, while Jemima bellowed like a calf separated from its mother.
This cry was different. She hadn’t heard it since their parents’ death, and the two of them had clung together with Jamie wailing like a wounded animal.
‘Jamie.’ Lisa rushed through the door. ‘What’s happened?’
Given the redness around her eyes, she’d obviously been crying for a long time. It was as if caterpillars had stamped tiny angry feet all about her eyebrows.
Jamie rose from the chair shakily, then half-collapsed into Lisa’s arms. ‘It’s all a disaster,’ she moaned, raising the volume of her crying to a new level that Lisa would have described as ‘speared elephant’.
‘There, there,’ Lisa rubbed her back the way she did when Ava declared she was about to vomit. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’
‘No, it won’t,’ sniffed Jamie. ‘It’s all buggered up.’
