by Lucy Coleman
Olwen says a hurried, ‘Must go, running late.’ The line disconnects and the deed is done. She did that on purpose, of course.
I can’t dwell on this now as it’s time to prepare for this important update meeting, but I buzz through to Hayley on the intercom.
‘Hayley, can you tell HR I’ll be away on holiday from the twenty-first of December through to the third of January, please? I’ll be back at my desk on the Wednesday. And can you let me know when Clarissa and Oliver arrive and escort them straight to the meeting room, please? I’ll be along shortly.’
‘Will do.’
I know she’ll quiz me later when we go for a drink tonight, but this is one little secret I’m not about to share with anyone. Well, scrap that – maybe just three people to begin with, as Christmas is all about family, isn’t it? And that means Will, Sally and Bella.
31
Confession Time
‘It seems to have been a remarkably seamless transition.’ Oliver shifts his gaze from last quarter’s sales report, to bring them to rest upon Clarissa. They exchange a brief glance, then both sets of eyes turn in my direction.
‘Very well done, indeed.’ His voice is congratulatory.
Clarissa’s facial expression hardly changes at the best of times, so I have no clue as to whether that was the reaction she was hoping to achieve. Or, will it grate on her just that teensiest bit, knowing how little involvement she’s had since I returned? But I am her protégé, so she no doubt regards it as a win-win situation, anyway.
My deeply ingrained sense of loyalty doesn’t allow me to take full credit.
‘Thank you, Oliver. Of course, the real test will be the year-on-year comparison for the last quarter of this year, as it will very much reflect the period during which I will have been flying solo. I’ve had the best mentor possible, of course, and I like to think that I won’t let Clarissa down.’
Oliver’s gaze travels around the table once more, to alight upon the woman herself. There is some disconcerting eye contact going on here between the two of them. I notice that Clarissa is tapping her pen, rather absentmindedly, on the notepad in front of her.
‘I’m expecting to see an overall increase, Oliver, so you have no concerns there. Tia’s project, which we’ve entitled Love is, Actually, All Around, will headline the next three issues. In fact, article one is featured in the edition which is currently out on the newsstands. Sales are brisk.’
Oliver nods his head, returning his gaze to me. It’s like this is all happening in slow motion. I feel that there’s something more going on here, other than a review meeting that was scheduled several weeks’ ago.
‘We’ve rather thrown you in at the deep end, haven’t we, Tia?’
I swallow hard, determined to remain cool and composed. This is not the time to show any sign of nerves whatsoever. It isn’t only my reputation at stake here, but my pride.
‘I believe this particular feature has gone way beyond the original remit. Aside from reaching out to the widest audience ever, in terms of age-range, social and marital status, it’s more akin to the magazine equivalent of reality TV. Not the trashy, ill–conceived version that people either love, or love to hate, but real people leading normal lives.
‘It’s not an exposé, it’s a sharing of love and lifestyle stories; our audience will read about problems they can connect with and how those were overcome. It also capitalises on the Christmas feelgood factor and the hope that the dawning of a New Year can inspire. We’ve taken it to the next level by analysing and extracting positive aspects across the full spectrum. In the past, the traditional way of handing out advice was either in the form of an advice column, or a love quiz. The latter has always been gimmicky and is now, I think, outdated.
‘Clarissa has allowed me to take this project and really push the boundaries. Whether married, cohabiting, or single – there really is something to engage everyone. And giving them practical tips, based upon what has worked for our interviewees, doesn’t come across in any way at all as condescending. We aren’t talking at people, simply sharing best practice, if you like.’
Oliver’s gaze shifts once more.
‘I’ve read all three articles, Oliver, and they come across as investigative journalism with heart. It’s going to be our biggest ever Christmas and New Year draw; of that I’m very sure.’
Clarissa’s endorsement almost has me doing a double-take.
‘My fear,’ she continues, ‘was that it would lack impact, or real depth. I’m sure there are feature writers who wouldn’t have delved as deeply as Tia has done. She has connected on an emotional level and that is what will bring it alive for our readers.’
‘Sterling work, Tia. I’m very impressed. I think this is an appropriate moment to mention that there will be several opportunities coming up in the first half of next year, that I’m hoping will be of interest to you. Whilst this must not go beyond these four walls, I can confirm that Clarissa is currently considering a permanent position elsewhere in the organisation. But that’s something to discuss at another time. Right, if we are done, then I’d like to do a quick walk around to thank the staff.’
Oliver and I rise from the table, but Clarissa remains seated.
‘Hayley is waiting outside to conduct the tour, Oliver. I need to touch base with Tia about a few things, but I’ll join you shortly.’
‘Of course. Thank you, Tia, excellent meeting.’
I was hovering, but now I sink back down into my seat. Clarissa doesn’t begin speaking until Oliver is outside in the corridor and the door is firmly closed.
We sit, looking at each other and I’d forgotten how piercing those steely-grey eyes, can be. Am I in trouble?
‘There aren’t any problems, Tia, so you can relax. I meant every word I said. Thank you for your, typically thoughtful, support but from here on in you really do have to be shouting your own praises. I represent your past now, not your future.’
So she isn’t coming back.
‘It really is the point of no return, for you? This magazine is your baby, Clarissa, and you’ve grown it exponentially in the two years you’ve been at the helm.’
The look in her eyes is indeterminable. Has she ever felt a real and honest connection to anything in her life?
‘I’ve been offered a place on the board of directors and I’m going to take it. Oliver and I will be announcing our engagement at Christmas and as soon as the new initiative has been launched in the spring, we will both be taking a little time off to formalise our arrangement.’
Formalise their arrangement? Does she mean get married?
‘Oh, then congratulations are in order, Clarissa. I’m very happy for you.’
She looks at me with a blank expression, as if my words are slightly inappropriate, but makes no comment.
‘Oliver has several different options he feels might be appropriate for you to consider, once things have settled down. Of course, you may feel that you would prefer to stick with what you know. But I, too, think you have much more to offer. Still, all will be made clear to you once we have evaluated the results of the launch of our newest project. If it continues to be as successful in the coming weeks, then Oliver will be keen to divert our very best resources into that endeavour. This could be an amazing opportunity, Tia – either way you decide to jump.’
My hands grab onto the arms of the chair as if I’m about to fall off.
‘There is one other thing I would like to discuss.’ She looks hesitant, a trait Clarissa seldom displays as it’s akin to weakness in her rule book. ‘When I read the final article, which included the interview with an unnamed, single woman, I wondered who exactly she was?’
She’s sharp, that’s for sure. I’ve done nothing dishonest and I certainly didn’t take any money, but I also didn’t come clean about it.
‘Look, Clarissa, this isn’t easy to say. When I talked Nic into being interviewed I had no idea who he was and no reason to believe he wouldn’t be the perfect candidate.’
/>
The muscles around her mouth tense slightly. I wonder if she’s offended that I’ve raised the rather unfortunate issue for the first time since that day in her office.
‘I conducted the interview, two in fact, and it would have been an honest story that many could attest to from their own experiences. It was appropriate to the aims of the feature. I had every intention of using the content in good faith, because it was extremely relevant. Suddenly, that was no longer an option and time was running out.’
She pulls a copy of my draft January article from the file in front of her and slides it across to me.
I glance down at it, probably able to recite it almost word for word, so I push it back towards the centre of the table.
‘From a purely professional point of view the essence of what I had gleaned from the time I spent talking to him, wasn’t so very far removed from my own story. After all, the focus was on why relationships hadn’t worked out and how to move forward. I was the perfect candidate to slot into his place.’
That’s the honest truth and I thought long and hard about it before I made the final decision to go ahead using my own story.
She extends her fingertips and withdraws the paper, tilting her glasses to read aloud a portion of the copy.
‘Some of the baggage we carry around can shape us in a very positive way, if we choose to use it as a reminder of how badly things can go wrong. Often, it’s through no apparent fault of our own, but through circumstances outside of our control. How can we change that? The truth is that we can’t, we can only deal with the consequences.’
She lowers her head, staring across at me from over the top of her reading glasses.
‘Are you dealing with the consequences?’
‘Running the magazine is a very demanding role, as you well know, Clarissa. I think I’ve more than proved that any baggage I carried is no longer a burden and certainly will not affect my performance.’
The gaze doesn’t falter.
‘That day we talked you said you were in love with my son; and yet the article talks about moving on as if the failed relationship you left behind was simply another of life’s lessons.’
Why is she grilling me? Well, I’m not playing this game. If she has her doubts then she has Oliver’s ear and there’s nothing I can do about that. I sit in silence.
‘Tia, are you telling me you didn’t love Nic, after all?’
She drops the paper down onto the desk with disdain, then places both hands palm down on the table, leaning forward.
‘That, Clarissa, is none of your business. If you want to know the answer to that then you need to speak directly to your son. I gather it’s been several years since you last had contact. At the very least he deserves to hear your latest news first-hand and if you really do care about him at all, then maybe it’s time to let him know that. Now if we’re done here, I need to get back to work.’
I gather my papers, turning my back on her as I make my way to the door.
‘If there’s any hope at all that it could work out between you, please consider any offer Oliver makes you very carefully indeed. Once you cross that line there is no turning back. I thought you and I were from different moulds, Tia, but I guess I was wrong and that’s rather disappointing.’
*
‘Will, it’s Tia. I’m sorry it’s rather late. You weren’t in bed, I hope?’
‘No. Is anything wrong?’
There’s a hint of anxiety in his voice and I realise that maybe I’m not the only one who misses the closeness we used to have. We’ve been almost like strangers now for too long.
‘I’m fine and sorry, I should have waited until tomorrow but my mind is churning and I wanted to hear your voice.’
There’s a pause at both ends and in that momentary silence I know we’ve both thinking about Mum.
‘This is what happens to other families, isn’t it? But I never thought for one moment it would ever happen to us.’ He sounds sad, not angry and his tone isn’t accusatory so it isn’t levelled at me personally.
‘I have so many regrets—’
‘And I have a lot to thank you for, Tia. I let my stubbornness take over because I couldn’t deal with my emotions. It was easier for me to shut things out than face them and Sally kept saying that to me, hoping I’d come round. So if anyone has regrets, it’s me.’
In the gloomy darkness as I stare out of the window, I shake my head sadly.
‘I know you were adamant she shouldn’t stay in the house alone, because you were worried she wasn’t well. But she wasn’t rejecting you, just the offer to move in with you all. I know you thought that Bella would help raise her spirits after Ed died. She didn’t want any of us with her through the anger and tears as she picked up the threads of her life for a second time.’
He sighs.
‘I was little more than a bully but I feared she’d go downhill. I was angry when you sided against me because I felt pushed out. You were the one she turned to when Dad died, but we were only kids then. I never accepted Ed and I felt guilty about that; I needed her to lean on me and, in the process, possibly forgive me for that. I wanted to be her rock, Tia, that’s all.’
I brush away a tear forming in the corner of my left eye and take a deep breath. I never thought we’d ever talk like this – openly and honestly about what happened.
‘I simply gave her the space she needed and when she wanted company she lifted the phone. I know you think we spent a lot of time together but we didn’t really. Mum had no intention of commanding all of my spare time, as she put it. Even though it wouldn’t have mattered to me if she had. When she grew close to Ed they were simply supporting each other as the years advanced. When she found herself alone once more, I know you wanted to take care of her but Mum wanted to retain her independence because she wasn’t ready to sit back and have things done for her.’
He sniffs and I wonder if he, too, is shedding a tear. After a second or two his softly spoken words echo down the line like a hug.
‘I was wrong to jump to conclusions about her friendship with Ed, I see that now. It felt like the final straw at the time, as if she was willing to turn to anyone for comfort, except her own son. I thought as the years advanced she’d eventually turn to me. I didn’t stop to see it from her viewpoint and that was a big mistake. I’ve missed you, Sis. In more ways than you can know. Thank you for giving me a second chance because I’m not even sure I deserve it.’
Now my tears are falling haplessly down over my cheeks, plopping onto my fleece as if it’s raining indoors. I suck in a deep breath so I can force the words I want to say past the huge knot of emotion which seems to be stuck in my throat.
‘I need you in my life, Will, and I miss Sally and Bella so much it hurts like a physical pain. I might not be here talking to you now if it wasn’t for your actions that day. It means so much to me that it was you who found me and Mum will rest in peace knowing that. If she taught us one thing, it’s that family is everything. Let’s make this Christmas a family one.’
He tries to laugh through his tears but his voice breaks up a little. ‘You bet.’
As we bid each other goodnight a sense of well-being begins to wash over me. The dread I was feeling about the forthcoming festivities has been replaced with a sense of optimism and excitement. The healing has begun.
Wednesday, 21st of December…
32
The Breeze Through My Hair
The taxi driver is not only very polite, but also extremely helpful. His smile doesn’t waver for one second, despite the amount of luggage I have brought with me. When I give him a ten-pound note as a tip he seems a little embarrassed.
‘Are you sure, Miss? That’s very generous, indeed, thank you.’
‘No, thank you and Merry Christmas.’
I make my way up the path towards Beach View Cottage and it feels like coming home: familiar, comforting. Even before I have time to raise my hand to the bell, Olwen swings the door open and I almost fall insid
e.
‘Let’s get you and that pile of luggage into the warm, quickly. That’s a bitterly cold wind today.’
As soon as the door shuts she spins around to gaze at me.
‘You look good, Tia. I thought you might arrive in need of a rest, but you are glowing.’
I glance back at her, rather sheepishly. We both know there’s only one reason for that glow and it might all be a rather pointless exercise, anyway.
‘And you’ve lost weight. We need to Skype as I had no idea. Are you pleased?’
‘Over the moon. No more biscuits or doughnuts and I have so much more energy. A part of that is down to Nic.’
My expression is one of surprise.
‘Well, at first it was an excuse to pop in. He does his own cleaning and there’s only so many times I can say I’m passing. It’s not exactly a drive through road, is it?’ She laughs and I nod. ‘So, I asked him if he knew anything about healthy eating, in conversation, as you do. Bless, he knows I don’t have much spare time what with two jobs and the family. And I’m not good on the computer. He admitted he, too, tended to live on ready meals. Anyway, Nic did some research and printed off a few recipes for me. He tried them out for himself and now there are five of us who share new recipes we come across. Nic has recently started up a fortnightly foodie column in the paper. Not focusing on losing weight as such, but about using some of the good quality farm produce available locally and recipes that are quick and simple to do.’
‘He’s happy, then?’
She shrugs.
‘I think he’s thrown himself into his work and that in turn has given him back a sense of purpose. Gareth has kept an eye on him, too, encouraging Nic to become involved in the Safe Communities scheme. It’s a voluntary thing, but he liaises with the police and the locals to raise awareness in general. Crime rates are generally low here, but there are always a few opportunist thefts in summer and every couple of years there is a spate of winter crimes, mainly targeting second homes that are locked up for long periods of time. This year, as you know, there’s been quite a bit of activity and we’ve all had to be extra vigilante. It means Nic’s circle of contacts is widening and the boost it has given him is lovely to see. He’s a valued member of the community and he’s helping to make a difference.’
