by Nina Manning
‘Good, good.’ We walked next to one another along the corridor. Mason towered a full three inches above me. ‘Has Carys given you all your bits? And lunch, you know, just take an hour when you want. Walk, read.’
We stopped outside the door to the main offices and I looked up at Mason. For a moment I forgot that my skull was pulsating like one giant nerve and I felt a rush of emotions tugging, terror and nervous energy, as he smiled down at me.
‘Do you have kids?’ I found the courage to ask.
‘No. Never the right time,’ he said with self-assurance and pulled the door revealing the open plan office. Immediately all eyes fell upon me. Some people waved and greeted Mason. I heard a few murmurs of ‘Alright, boss’ as we picked our way through the maze of furniture. My desk was situated near the back. A vast white counter with a large Mac and phone. Behind that was a relaxation area with soft furnishings and a coffee machine.
‘I’m going to put you in the capable hands of Penelope today, Frankie, okay?’ and as though he had called her telepathically, a skinny, austere woman of about five feet tall, with sleek straight black shoulder length hair, arrived next to Mason. She was wearing a plain white blouse buttoned to her neck and a black pencil skirt. She wore a lot of foundation and I could see mottled skin under the streaks of makeup. I ran a warm hand down my high waisted bell-bottomed trousers, then I reached it out to greet Penelope. Her hands were cold, and her grip was surprisingly strong.
‘Hi,’ she said in a meek voice. I couldn’t gauge her age – her older face didn’t match her tiny childlike frame.
‘She’s my right-hand woman, this girl. Been with me for years. I couldn’t manage without her.’
Penelope looked fondly at Mason as he spoke.
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Mason turned to me. ‘Frankie. My door is always open.’
‘Thank you.’ I held his gaze for an extra second. Then he turned and I watched him stride confidently across the room.
He stopped and bent down to say something to a pretty blonde woman seated near the front. I heard her giggle resonate through the room and I felt my gut twist as I eyed her with something that felt like envy.
I heard Penelope clear her throat behind me and turned back to her. She gave me a tight smile accompanied by wide eyes.
‘Right then, let’s get you set up.’
At lunchtime, Penelope and I sat opposite each other in the cafeteria. Penelope picked at a green salad and a strip of pita. I tried not to look at her, although so many questions were hanging off my tongue. She had a strange calmness about her that hinted more towards drug-induced than earthly serenity. I stole intermittent glances at her as I ate a cous cous salad. She had said very little, but the information I was able to extract from her was that she had worked for Mason at various companies for fifteen years, she was effectively his PA and the office manager, and knew her way around every system in the company with her eyes closed. I naturally felt inclined to ask Penelope about her home life, her hobbies and generally what it was that made her tick. She didn’t have a boyfriend and had no children. Despite her childlike physique she was forty-two years old. She didn’t seem to have any hobbies except online bingo. It appeared to me that Penelope led a very solitary and lonely life, and perhaps it wasn’t what she had hoped for herself but she was making the best of what she had.
As we sat in the cafeteria, I felt a chill in the air. I looked up and noticed that the aircon unit was directly above me.
‘Can we turn that thing down?’ I said, pointing at the unit. Without replying, she reached to take the remote from the wall, and as she did I saw a smattering of healed cuts, ten or so, all different sizes and lengths, on her arm. I could tell they were old cuts, but the scars remained, dark and prominent. I looked at Penelope and thought about her life and suddenly I felt sad. I had seen the same cuts on the arms of Todd’s sister, Martha, when things started to go wrong for her. And I knew that was how women like Penelope and Martha dealt with the hurt and pain in their lives. Whilst I turned to the drink, others would cut until the pain bled from them.
As we sat finishing our lunch, a few people I had seen making eyes at me earlier made their way over and stood in front of us.
‘You going to introduce us to your new mate?’ said a girl with blonde curly hair. She said it with a smile, and when she did it revealed a full set of braces. She couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five. Next to her stood a guy in a sky-blue shirt, immaculately pressed, his dark hair intensely styled to one side. I could see his muscles bulging through his shirt. He was eyeing me with intrigue.
‘This is Lil.’ Penelope pointed to the girl, ‘And this is Fish.’ She made the introduction with barely any enthusiasm, then returned to her picking.
Fish was straight in there, ‘Hi.’ He shook my hand firmly.
‘That’s quite a grip you’ve got there… Fish,’ I said, experimenting with his name. ‘Did your parents not like you?’
A flash of confusion swept over his face then he let out a laugh. ‘My name? It’s short for Fishwick. That’s my surname. My actual name is Graham, but no one’s called me that for years.’
‘Yeah, under no circumstances must you call him Graham. Unless he’s been really naughty,’ Lil said, and reached her leg out to give Fish the faintest of kicks.
Oh, I thought, I get it. These two.
‘Hi, I’m Lilian.’ Lil reached out her hand. ‘You can call me Lil or Lilian. I don’t mind,’ she laughed then quickly closed her mouth and smiled self-consciously.
‘So, you’re our New Product Developer then?’ Fish said, making my job title sound far more glamorous than we both knew it actually was.
‘Sure am,’ I said with a wide-eyed smile.
‘So exciting.’ Lil gave a little shimmy. ‘How is your first day going and is brainy box here showing you everything you need to know?’ She gestured towards Penelope.
‘I’ve been through all the software. We’re just about to look at Trello,’ Penelope said drolly, with a slow blink. Her laid back approach was still fascinating me and strangely refreshing next to these two who were like a pair of eager school kids desperate to be friends with the new girl. But I wasn’t going to give away too much about myself. I didn’t need to make friends here.
‘Well, we’ll let you get on. We do drinks after work on Friday.’ Fish said ‘Office shuts at four. I mean, you don’t have to or anything, if you have kids or whatever, it’s just a nice thing Mason does, he puts a few quid behind the local bar on the corner, the Chambers. Do you know it?’
I felt my gut tighten. Of course I knew it. It was where I had my first proper drink, where I had spent so many years laughing, dancing. That bar had given me so many memories, some I was still unsure how to process.
‘Yes, I know it,’ I said through a dry gulp.
‘Great, hopefully see you there,’ Fish said.
‘Well, anyway, it’s good to meet you,’ Lil said in a singsong voice.
‘Yeah, great to meet you,’ Fish said and I was sure he winked at me.
As soon as they had gone, I looked up and there was a girl standing in front of me. She had vibrant red hair that hung loose and wavy all around her face. She looked like she was in a hair advert. She had strong features, big green eyes, a defined jaw line and a ring through her nose.
‘Thought I’d better come and rescue you. I’ll show you where we smoke.’ She gave a small nod of acknowledgement to Penelope, then she flicked her head to one side to indicate that I follow. Which I did.
Outside she pulled out two cigarettes and handed me one. I thought for a heartbeat, then took it. I hadn’t smoked properly for years, save for the odd one on a night out. I took the first drag as I handed her back her lighter and the memories came flooding back. All those long lazy days smoking in the park with nowhere to go, no need to be anywhere. No responsibilities. No one to think about.
‘So, what’s your story? What brings you to Mason Valentine HQ?’ She blew her smoke out
in one long trail and leaned against the wall. I still didn’t know her name.
‘I hated my other job, and there was no flexibility. I have kids. You need to be flexible when you have kids.’ I felt as though I needed to reiterate that to this young woman who seemed so bohemian and free. The way I was once. I took a drag. I felt the head rush and then my body flooded with adrenaline, followed by dizziness.
‘Stella.’ She stretched her fag free hand over and I took it in mine.
‘Frankie.’
‘Short for Francesca?’
‘Yes,’ I said, feeling a warm glow at the memory of the one and only person who had ever called me that. ‘I just need to stretch my wings a bit.’
‘Yep, there’s room for that here. Can’t fault the room for growth. If you don’t mind the noise. I mean, that office is like a soap opera on acid sometimes. The raging hormones, the sex scandals. You’ll get used to it.’ She looked at me. ‘Although you look like you’ve been around. Not like that, in a good way. Like you’ve lived a life. I can see it in your eyes.’
I had to admire her perceptiveness.
And, of course, she was right. I had lived.
And I had died.
3 November 1998
I knew you were trying to go, so I pleaded with you. I think I actually said, ‘Don’t go.’ But you didn’t reply. Next to you in the car, we were so close, yet for a fleeting second I imagined a world without you. Now I know, by daring to imagine a world without you, it was me who put that in motion. Every moment we lay there was a moment you were leaving me. And I just had to wait. Wait for help to come. Why did it take so long? Why did no one come?
You went way too early. Before it had even begun. Is this the punishment, is this what we deserved?
I wasn’t ready to give up, so why did you?
9
Now
I came through the door, exhausted. I needed to either go to bed and crash or get myself a hair of the dog. I was just beginning to side with the idea that an early night might be in order when my phone buzzed with a text from Nancy.
How was it?
I quickly texted back:
A great day I’ll fill you in later
* * *
Great I’ll be over at 8
Nancy was notoriously reliable, and as much as an early night was calling, so too was a catch up with my oldest friend. I shook my head and chucked my phone in my bag.
It was eerily quiet. Where were they? I hadn’t heard from Damian all day except for two words, ‘good luck’, in a text that morning.
I automatically called out to the kids first.
‘Pixie, Maddox.’ There was no sign of them in the kitchen except the usual post-apocalyptic scene. Discarded bits of toast and jam and empty juice cartons, bags sprawled on the floor with their contents spilling out.
Then I heard the cheerful whoop of Maddox, followed by Pixie shouting something to Damian, and I looked out of the kitchen window into the back garden. The sun was just beginning to go down and there they all were, playing contentedly on the grass. I took a second to watch them and take it all in. I allowed myself a moment of what felt like gratitude. Gratitude for my babies, for their health. I loved them with a furious love that I couldn’t put into words. It was easy to forget they came from me, that they were part of me, sometimes. Well, more than sometimes. There was my family, living and breathing and I watched it through the window like I was watching a TV series, and from there I felt safe. From there I felt as though I could cope. If I could watch it like this all the time, instead of being swept up in the madness of it, it would be so much easier.
Then Pixie swung round as though she could feel the weight of my stare and before I knew it she was through the back door, followed shortly by Damian and then Maddox. I was no longer a spectator. Time for reality.
‘Mummy, how was your first day in your new job?’
‘Alright?’ Damian walked over and gave me a half hug with one arm. He went to the fridge and took out a beer. ‘Kids have eaten.’
I looked at the discarded toast on the counter, knowing I would be pulling out fruit and yoghurts within the hour to fill them up. I watched Damian open his beer and take a long slow gulp of it, and I wanted to delve into the bottle of white wine I had put in the fridge this morning so that I could celebrate my first day. But I knew I would have to wait another few hours until the kids were in bed.
‘Was it a good day, then?’ Damian followed up on Pixie’s question.
‘Yes, yes, it was great.’
‘Did you make any friends, Mummy?’ Pixie asked. Maddox was winding his leg around mine and hanging on to my arm, so I bent down and scooped him up. I walked over to Pixie and bent down to kiss her.
‘Yes, sweetheart, I think I did.’ I couldn’t help but laugh. Being an adult and working was no different to being a kid at school. We still sought affirmation. But the thought of making real friendships at that office didn’t sit comfortably with me. I wasn’t ready to expose my vulnerability to any of them.
‘It’s good to have friends.’ Damian said, half to me, half to Pixie, and I wasn’t sure of the connotations of that statement.
That evening, Nancy arrived wearing her best smile and carrying a bottle of champagne under her arm. She was wearing tight blue trousers that were cropped above her ankles, a blue and white stripy body suit with ample view of her full bosom and white canvas wedge heels. She hadn’t changed her style since she was sixteen. Her blonde curls hung around her face and I felt a sudden fondness for my best friend as I thought of all the years we had seen together. And here we still were, drinking and celebrating life.
‘Don’t worry, darling, Harry dropped me off and I have cash for a taxi so the night is ours!’
‘It’s a Monday night, Nance.’ I protested as I popped the cork and Nancy whooped. Damian must have heard the commotion as he arrived in the kitchen shortly afterwards. His usual look of disdain on his face whenever Nancy was around.
‘Hello, Damian,’ Nancy sipped her champagne and gave me ‘the eyes’ that held mischief. She knew how Damian felt about her.
‘Fancy a glass?’ I said to Damian.
‘No. Thanks. How are you, Nancy?’
‘Oh, you know, Damian, hanging in there. Life’s pretty good at the moment. Harry treats me like a queen so I can’t complain. But it’s this girl we’re here for today, starting a job with the biggest business tycoon in town. So, Frankie, what’s he like?’ Nancy gave me the eyes again.
Damian went to the fridge and collected himself another beer. ‘Have fun,’ he said.
What a pointless statement. I couldn’t remember the last time he was interested in whether I was having fun.
Nancy put her glass down and leaned forward on the island where she was propped up. ‘So, what the hell is he like, Frank? I Googled him again, he is one hot mother f—’
‘Shhh,’ I put my finger to my mouth and whispered, ‘The kids.’ But the kids were fast asleep. It was Damian overhearing I was worried about. ‘He’s fine. Really nice. Friendly.’ I said quietly.
‘Friendly? What the… Did you not get a look at his crotch, what’s his office like, oh, the thought of doing it in there with him.’ Nancy rolled her head back and groaned. ‘Come on, Frankie, I know you think he’s hot too.’
I took a sip of champagne, knowing I was on my way to that better place where the jokes were funnier and life seemed much sweeter. ‘Let’s not get things out of perspective, I’m a married woman and Mason is my boss,’ I said with a serious tone and a small smile.
‘Ooooh, Mason! Well, he could boss me around any day. He’s single, isn’t he? I started following him on Insta. No kids?’
I shook my head and took a long gulp of champagne, feeling the bubbles hit my throat.
‘Well, if you’re not up for him,’ Nancy said, and I couldn’t tell if she was serious.
‘Harry loves you very much.’ I took the champagne and topped up my glass, for it was already empty.
&nbs
p; ‘Sure, he does, I mean why wouldn’t he?’ Nancy gave her hair a pat and pushed her chest out. ‘Don’t panic, I’m not going to steal Mason off you, if that’s what you think.’
‘I am not bloody into Mason Valentine!’ but even as I spoke those words, the image of his face flashed before me and something within me stirred.
10
Now
I walked into work the next morning, my head feeling dense. Last night’s hedonistic drinking was a distant memory, replaced by a splitting ache right in the centre of my forehead.
The office was empty and quiet except for Alan, the finance manager. Alan lifted his hand in acknowledgement from the far end of the office, and I waved back. I dumped my bag at my desk and headed straight to make coffee. I hit the latte button and listened to the comforting sound of the brewing and pouring out into a mug. There was a selection of pastries on a silver foil platter covered in cling film. My empty stomach gurgled as I peeled back the film and picked one out, grabbed my coffee and returned to my desk. I slid into my chair and took in my surroundings, trying to enjoy the peace and quiet and to will away the sensation that someone had opened up my head, removed my brain and replaced it with an iron dumbbell.
I was just taking a sip of coffee when I saw Mason striding across the room towards my desk. I did a surreptitious wipe of my mouth in case of stray milk froth and pastry crumbs.
‘Morning, Alan,’ Mason called over to the other side of the office as he arrived at my desk. I sat up straight and hoped my drab skin didn’t give away how I felt inside.
‘Morning, Frankie. I see you’ve joined the early bird club with Alan over there.’ He raised his eyebrows up and down once. It seemed cheeky and boyish and my stomach gave a small flip. The hangover I was nursing like a true professional suddenly seemed less intense for a second.
