Finding Hannah

by Fiona McCallum

  ‘Thanks for this. I won’t let you down.’ Hannah crossed her fingers behind her back as she said it.

  ‘Hannah, it’s not a matter of letting me or anyone else down. It’s a matter of doing what’s right for you. And if you wake up tomorrow morning and can’t do it, then call or text me.’

  ‘All right. Thanks. And can you make me a promise too?’

  ‘Of course. Whatever you need.’

  ‘Don’t go easy on my account. I need to do this.’

  ‘Right, gotya, I’ll be mean, bad boss Craig, just as always.’

  ‘I doubt you’re capable of that, but thanks.’ He’d always been a kind, considerate boss and she couldn’t imagine him being mean. ‘And thanks very much for the call. But I will see you in the morning.’

  ‘Righteo. Goodnight, Hannah.’

  And there he was, hunched over his computer, tapping on his keyboard with two fingers.

  ‘Good morning,’ Hannah called, stopping in the doorway of the glass cubicle.

  ‘Good morning. How are you doing?’

  ‘Good, thanks. Well, okay,’ she added, her resolve slipping a bit.

  She could see he was about to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.

  ‘Can I help you with that?’ she asked, nodding towards his screen.

  Craig Pearson, the lead partner in a large accounting firm, and Hannah had been working together for eight years. Now they knew each other so well that Craig could give her a vague idea of what he was thinking and she’d formulate the rest. She’d started out as an inexperienced temp almost ten years ago and had been asked to stay on. Now she was a highly prized executive PA – worth her weight in gold, according to Craig – and several rival firms and head-hunters had approached her. But she liked where she was – she enjoyed working for Craig, the people were nice, and she was adequately paid. And she was a loyal person through and through. While she was treated well, there was no reason to leave. As far as Hannah could see, most people changed jobs simply to satisfy their egos – they liked the idea of being poached, not necessarily the new job. Anyway, she figured once you’d progressed to the top of your game as an executive PA, it was pretty much the same wherever you worked.

  ‘Um.’ He looked a little stricken. And then she understood.

  ‘Craig, we talked about this. You’re not to treat me with kid gloves. Please.’ She was almost whining, wasn’t far off begging. ‘I’m fine. I can’t promise I won’t fall apart at some point, but I haven’t lost my skills – I’m sure I can still type ninety words a minute and keep you organised,’ she added, and offered a weak smile.

  ‘Okay. But promise you’ll tell me if it all gets too much.’

  ‘I already did. Last night. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Well, promise me again.’

  ‘Okay. I promise.’

  The office filled as one by one people trickled in. And one by one they stopped at Hannah’s desk and said they were sorry for her loss and then hovered awkwardly, not knowing what to say or how to leave. Hannah asked about each person’s Christmas and time off, but no one seemed willing to own up to having had any enjoyment. Gradually everyone made the excuse of getting back to work and left.

  Normally in the mornings, the office was a hive of activity and animated conversations, with the occasional eruption of raucous laughter as stories were told. Not today. Perhaps she should have stayed away for the good of everyone else. Perhaps that was what Craig had been subtly trying to tell her.

  As Hannah tried to focus on the screen that was now swimming in front of her tear-filled eyes, she wondered what she should do. She wanted to stay.

  She looked at her mobile that had just pinged beside her, signalling a text message. It was from Sam:

  Good luck on your first day back. Remember, people won’t know what to say or how to act, so don’t take any weirdness to heart. People are weird, full stop! Just go with it and hang in there. They’ll come around. Here if you need me. Thinking of you and sending hugs and lots and lots of love. Xxx

  Hannah smiled and the lump in her throat melted. Bless Sam for knowing her – and people – so well and finding exactly the right words to say. She sent a couple of smiley faces and a row of hugs and kisses in reply, then took a deep breath and got back to work.

  *

  At ten minutes past five, Hannah turned off her computer, took her bag from the cupboard and looked into her boss’s office.

  ‘I’m heading off, Craig, have a lovely evening.’

  ‘Thanks. You too. Well done today,’ he added quietly, and then as if as an afterthought and as more of a question, he said, ‘See you tomorrow?’

  ‘You certainly will,’ Hannah said overly brightly. She fought the urge to throw herself at his feet and thank him profusely. He would have no idea just how grateful she was to have her tiny bit of normal, her job, and to him for not sending her home that morning and insisting she take some of her copious amounts of leave.

  There had been three times when things had got to her and each time she’d managed to hold on and only shed her tears in the privacy of the ladies toilet, out of sight.

  She was putting her coffee mug in the dishwasher when Caitlin, one of the PAs from the other side of the floor, walked in. As one of the senior personal assistants in the firm, Hannah had helped with the selection process for Caitlin two years ago, and then her induction. The PAs tended to hang out together, the younger accountants with each other, and the senior management and partners in another group – although they seemed to do their socialising over long lunches disguised as strategy sessions and networking. Hannah knew because she made many of the bookings and sorted through the corporate credit card statements.

  ‘Hey, a few of us are going out for a drink to celebrate the New Year, would you like to come?’ Caitlin said, a little shyly.

  ‘That would be lovely, thanks.’ Hannah smiled in an effort to put the clearly uncomfortable young woman at ease.

  ‘Cool. Come on then,’ Caitlin said. Hannah was pleased to see the ice seemed to have been broken and was grateful for yet another small win that day.

  ‘So, how are you doing? Really?’ Caitlin asked as they walked to the lift together.

  ‘Okay, thanks. I’ve got some great friends and had a lot of support.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  When their lift reached the ground floor there was a small group waiting for them. Hannah cringed as she noticed the animated group seemed to suddenly fall silent when they saw her and Caitlin walking towards them. She offered a general ‘Hi’ and a reassuring smile, and they set off for their current favourite bar – a moody basement venue in Flinders Lane, just a few blocks from the office.

  As they walked out into the warm evening sunshine, Hannah wondered what would be worse: going home to be alone or being the wet blanket at her colleagues’s evening out. She wanted neither, but she was already regretting agreeing to this. Who was she kidding? Nothing was normal. But more strongly she didn’t feel like going home and being alone.

  Just then her phone rang. She stopped walking while she dug into her handbag to retrieve it. The small group paused but she waved them on. Only Caitlin remained beside her. She wished she’d left too and then Hannah might have snuck down one of the many lanes and off to catch her tram home.

  ‘Hey, Sam, how are you?’ she said.

  ‘Good. I’m just ringing to see how your day was.’

  ‘Okay. Fine. Thanks.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. I survived.’ She snuck a covert look at Caitlin who thankfully was busy with her own phone.

  ‘What’s all that noise? Are you on your way to the tram?’

  ‘No, a group of us are going to a bar to celebrate New Year.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yup, it’s going to be fun.’

  Sam at once seized on her tone. ‘Do you need rescuing?’

  ‘Probably. Actually, yes, that would be great.’

  ‘Rob is still in
town. I’m just texting him to pick you up. You can have dinner with us. Though, I’m warning you, it’s eggs with spaghetti on toast.’

  ‘Can I have my toast as soldiers?’

  ‘Yes, you can.’

  ‘Sounds good to me. Are you sure, though?’

  ‘Of course. You are not going out and getting drunk and having fun if I’m stuck home with the twins. Okay, Rob’s just leaving. He’ll be at the corner of Collins and Queen by the ANZ bank in around three minutes.’

  ‘Perfect. Thanks. See you soon.’

  ‘Had a better offer, eh?’ Caitlin said, after Hannah had hung up.

  ‘Sort of. I’m not sure I’m up for a bar, after all. Sorry.’

  ‘No worries. I’m thinking of bailing myself.’ They both looked ahead at the group that was waiting at the next intersection, held up by the traffic lights.

  ‘I’ll go let them know for you. See ya. Take care,’ Caitlin said, giving Hannah a quick hug.

  ‘Thanks. You too.’

  Hannah reached the corner just as Rob’s silver sedan pulled into the loading zone. She leapt in and gave him a quick kiss.

  ‘Thanks for this.’

  ‘Sam was a bit vague. So what am I rescuing you from?’

  ‘Myself.’

  ‘Right,’ he said, giving her a sideways glance. ‘Okay then. Well, it must be bad for you to be willingly signing up for eggs and tinned spaghetti on toast.’

  Hannah smiled. If only he knew just how much she was looking forward to the comfort of such a meal. Sam was a great mum and Hannah was looking forward to being welcomed into her little nest and gathered under her wing. On account of the boys they ate early, so there would still be a good chance Hannah could make it home before dark. If she could drag herself away from the comfort of Sam and Rob’s chaotic but warm and loving home.

  ‘So, how was the first day back?’

  ‘All right. You’ve no idea how nice doing something normal can feel when you’re …’

  ‘So, it wasn’t too weird?’

  ‘Not really. A bit. To start with. But everyone was okay once they got over worrying about what to say and how to act and just got on with things. Actually, it was so good that I got lured into a false sense of security and found myself on the way to the bar with the group of PAs. But then I realised how awful it is to be around people having fun when you feel like shit. I didn’t want to be a dampener on their evening either.’

  ‘Fair enough. Don’t be too hard on yourself, but it’s probably not a good idea to get sozzled. It won’t help.’

  ‘I know. But it just felt so good to be a part of things like, um, before.’

  ‘Yes, I can imagine.’

  They lapsed into silence. Hannah doubted Rob could understand. How could anyone unless they’d been in the same situation? She’d just have to accept that things had changed and that it would take time to really become a comfortable part of the fold at work again. She didn’t want her colleagues to feel sorry for her, and invite her along out of politeness. Especially if they didn’t really want her there and thought they had to be on their guard all night in case they made her cry with some unintentionally insensitive or off-hand comment.

  *

  ‘Hi, honey, we’re home,’ Rob called as he dumped his laptop bag in the hall.

  ‘Daddy! Auntie Hann!’ cried the two small boys as they thundered down the bare floorboards of the hall, closely followed by two cocker spaniels. Hannah was prepared when Oliver launched himself at her stomach; she’d visited the Barrow household enough times to know what was coming. She pitied Rob as Ethan launched himself at his father, his head right at groin level, and Rob let out a groan.

  ‘What’s this? I thought we were having soldiers and tinned spaghetti,’ Hannah said, standing in the kitchen after giving Sam a hug. She pointed to a bowl on the bench.

  ‘We are. I just took pity on you and tossed together a salad.’

  ‘You didn’t need to.’

  ‘Well, I can’t have you getting scurvy or constipated, or whatever.’

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’

  ‘No, I’m almost done. Just have to retrieve the eggs when the timer goes off. Your timing is perfect, by the way, darling husband,’ she said, wrapping her arms around Rob when he walked in.

  ‘Sit down. Boys, come in and sit down too. Actually, Hann, can you just pop that pile on the sideboard in the other room?’

  ‘Sure. Wow, you’re creating again,’ Hannah said, sneaking a peek through the pile of papers and sketchpad she held. ‘That’s fantastic. I was hoping New Year’s Day wasn’t just a one off.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m really enjoying it.’

  ‘Mummy’s going to be a famous artist one day,’ Oliver declared as he settled himself at the table.

  ‘And we’re going to go to an expedition,’ Ethan added.

  ‘Exhibition,’ Rob corrected.

  ‘Yes, well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but we’re a long way off that.’

  ‘Yes, first Mummy needs a lallery,’ Oliver said, full of authority.

  ‘And maybe a gent,’ Ethan said.

  ‘What am I, chopped liver?’ Rob asked, feigning offence.

  ‘An agent and a gallery, darlings,’ Hannah corrected, leaning over and giving them each a kiss on the head. ‘Or maybe just one or the other,’ she added.

  ‘We can help you find one,’ Oliver said.

  ‘Yes, Mummy, we’ll help.’

  ‘Thank you. That would be lovely.’

  *

  There was still plenty of daylight when Rob dropped Hannah home.

  ‘Would you like me to come in and make sure everything is okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll be fine.’ I have to toughen up. Rob wouldn’t be here every evening when she arrived home from work.

  ‘Well, I’ll wait until you’re inside and I see the lights go on.’

  ‘Okay, thanks. And thanks again for the ride – times two. And dinner. You guys are too wonderful for words,’ she added, throwing her arms around him and pecking him on the cheek.

  ‘We love you, Hann. You’ll get through this,’ he added.

  Hannah raced up the path and unlocked the front door. Inside she turned on the hall light – even though there was still plenty of light outside – and waved to Rob from the open front door.

  He gave a friendly honk as he drove off.

  Hannah stood in the hall feeling unsure what to do with herself. It was too early to go to bed with the television for company and she no longer had any thank-you cards to occupy her at the kitchen table. She still had Tristan’s clothes to go through, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being brought undone again after such a positive day. Right then she envied Sam her creativity. Perhaps she should buy one of the adult colouring-in books a few people at work had been raving about, not that she thought that was being creative by any stretch.

  She’d been amused to find several colleagues sitting at the tables in the staff kitchen quietly and intently colouring instead of the usual gossiping. She’d wanted to discuss it with Sam, but thought that a real artist might be offended by these colourers who thought they were being creative as those at her work seemed to. They were taking it very seriously. Hannah thought it was a waste of time. And what did you do with the pictures afterwards?

  Until a few years ago, Daphne had done tapestry in front of the television of an evening. And there had been periods when she’d crocheted or knitted. She said it was relaxing. Hannah supposed this colouring-in craze did the same thing – except doing something relaxing was now apparently called ‘mindfulness’ and considered ‘new age’.

  Hannah felt sadness grip her. If only Daphne was here to laugh about it with her. She’d think it was a hoot and would no doubt say the same as Hannah was thinking: why not at least make something, and something that was useful?

  Hannah forced her mind back to the here and now. Daphne wasn’t here to talk to so she shouldn’t dwell on it. She couldn’t. She’d had a g
ood day – one step forward – she didn’t want to ruin that. But she couldn’t let herself get bored – that would be her undoing.

  She looked around for inspiration and spied her runners under the small hall table. Without giving herself time to change her mind, she raced through to the bedroom and changed into track pants, sports bra, t-shirt and socks. She and Tristan had often taken an evening jog or brisk walk after dinner. She enjoyed burning off some energy and it came as a bit of a shock to realise she hadn’t been out once since losing him.

  She loved her work and there was only the odd day when she needed to blow off steam with some exercise. Tristan, being in finance, had had a much more stressful job and had needed a run or their walks to relax before bed. When it was a particularly stressful period, he’d go for a quick run in the mornings as well. Maybe it would help her, too.

  The darkness was creeping in much quicker than she realised and once outside Hannah almost turned back around. The streetlights were coming on. But she was in her running gear now, so she may as well take a quick jog around the neighbourhood. Tomorrow she’d leave earlier and get back to the park and have a better workout. Right now, though, she felt a little panicky, as if someone, not just the darkness, was chasing her. Her heart raced and leapt at every little sound, every shadow.

  Hannah found herself running, faster and faster to escape the demons that she felt lurking around her.

  In ten minutes she was back at her front door fighting for breath, her knuckles white and palms dented from clutching her keys so tightly. She let herself back into the house and nearly melted to the floor. God, she was unfit! She took her shoes off, quickly checked the doors were locked, and made her way through to the bathroom.

  As she stood under the streaming shower, she realised she felt good from her quick burst of exercise. But how she yearned for Tristan to be there so she could say, ‘I ran, actually ran, and for nearly ten minutes.’ God, she missed him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hannah sat at the kitchen bench with her coffee. It was nine o’clock on Saturday morning and she was already bored. No, not bored, lost. There were a million and one things to do in Melbourne on a weekend. The trouble was she couldn’t find the inclination to do any of them. She’d toyed with phoning Sam to see if she wanted to meet her out for coffee, but stopped herself. Sam was always busy with the twins and it wasn’t fair to keep imposing on her.