by Jules Smith
I placed my phone gently on the table and tried to calm down. I felt flustered and heady with a stomach full of manic butterflies. What the hell was wrong with me?
I decided to leave The Voice well alone for now until I’d had chance to work through my feelings. Generally when I acted in the heat of the moment it didn’t go too well. I went back to my study and reviewed the list I’d been working on earlier.
All of a sudden, it was painfully clear. I had to be there for my son. I was his Mother and that was my main responsibility. If I didn’t stick my neck out, then nobody else would and if I didn’t sacrifice my time for him and he failed, could I live with that?
No. I couldn’t. There was only one answer. I was going to have to leave my job.
Chapter 17
Giving up my job was neither an easy decision or a practical one. Never mind the fact I was about to go on a vacation to territories unknown. The expense of just maintaining a roof over our heads with heat and light was enough despite anything else. I still had to earn enough money but now it had to be from a flexible basis. The only way I could do that was to go freelance. I figured I knew enough people in this city to be able to make it work and whilst I wouldn’t get the cherry pickings or the high flyers salary, I should at the very least be able to pay my way. It would be tight but I could do it.
Having gone through all my expenses I realised my car would be one of the first things that had to go, it was too dear to maintain and I could manage with a cheap jalopy to get me around. As I wandered through the house going about my business, I began to see everything with fresh eyes. I had so many unnecessary things. Loads of stuff I didn’t need: nice clothes and shoes, ornaments and pictures and so on that I could sell at car boots or on eBay as extra bonus money. I’m sure I’d heard that some people had become eBay millionaires. You never knew. I’d worked out all the finances on a spread sheet: what I’d need to earn as a minimum and what I’d have to sacrifice so it worked. I’d done this not just for myself but for Karl so I could justify my decision when I eventually told him. He’d expect that at the very least. Having lived with Brendon I was learning the tactics of being ten steps ahead.
In order to put my plan into action I decided to put my car in the Auto-trader. Where intention goes, energy flows! It would be a good start and an insight to my selling ability. Damn, I thought, I’d better get it washed as it looked like a shed. I got my keys and made to go to the chaps that ran the hand car wash down the road. Then I stopped and thought about that. No! If was going to do this properly then every penny counted and I shouldn’t waste or squander on anything.
“It can’t be that hard to wash a mini.” I said out loud to myself. Turns out I was wrong. I couldn’t understand how I’d managed to make more smears than before I’d started and spent for ever trying to rub them away with a chamois leather. And alloys – they were hellish! Fair play to the blokes at the wash and wax that did this for a living for it was no mean feat and they fully deserved the measly fiver they charged. The only good thing about the ordeal was that I found a lost bottle of Kenzo Flower perfume, seven hair bobbles, an invite to a party and £3.75 under my seats when I was hoovering the inside. Still, it looked way better than it had in weeks. I went and got my camera and took several shots so I could place my online advert. I put it in the Auto-trader for a month and then rang my friend in advertising at the local city newspaper and got it in there for the weekend. Done.
Now I needed to talk to my boss.
I drove my smeary, yet clean mini into the city and all the while kept going through a mock conversation with Colin out loud in my car. I arrived at the office and saw Johnno at his desk who gave me a big smile when he clocked me coming through the doors.
“Soph! I thought you weren’t in until tomorrow!” He stood up and limped over.
“Really? It’s still hurting?” I started laughing. But inside I felt wretched. I was hardly ever going to see him or anybody I worked with when I left. These people were like my other family.
“Why are you here? Get bored? Oh wait! I got you a present…” He hobbled back to his desk and opened his drawer. He put the crinkly package behind his back and came over to me.
I stood there waiting and smiling. He was so cute.
“There!” He handed me a box of Waitrose chocolate brownies.
“Ha Ha! Funny!”
“What? I heard you liked them? “He stood staring at me with a schoolboy grin on his face.
“Well, I’m so glad I’ve been the subject of your amusement.” I took the cakes and slung them onto my desk. “Now I have to see Colin, I’ll be back in a bit.” I walked to my Editors office and felt the fear and sadness rising within and began to question whether I was doing the right thing or not.
He was on the phone to Trudie, I could tell. I went to walk away but he looked surprised to see me and nodded for me to take a seat. I sat there running my planned speech through my mind and digging my nails into each of my finger beds in turn.
“I can’t Trudie, no. Babe it’s just not a good time. I’m sorry, no. I have to go.” I watched him end the call and sigh. He shook his head. “You’d think I’d get better at choosing women wouldn’t you? Anyway, back early Soph?” He smiled but looked a bit sad.
“Are you OK?” I asked.
“Ugh..Relationships..difficult women. The usual nightmare.” He threw his phone on the desk.
I knew right then and there that Trudie was not going to be a keeper.
“So, good to have you back. Get everything sorted?”
Oh God. I felt sick and like I was going to cry. I felt the heat rising from nowhere and found it impossible to maintain contact with Colin’s soulful blue eyes.
“Yes and no, “I said slowly, “Colin.. I can’t do my job anymore..” That was not how I had planned to say it but that’s how it came out.
“What do you mean?” He sat very still and just stared at me.
“I mean, I’m going to have to leave. I don’t want to but I have to. It’s the school…it’s not me…well it’s my decision too but…
“Soph…calm down. Start again. He pushed an empty glass towards me and filled it full of soda water and remained forward in his chair, looking puzzled.
“Brendon’s timetable has been slashed due to his behaviour and I have to go in and monitor his days. They only want him to attend minimum lessons to get through his exams and then go home. They want my help on a daily basis and If I don’t comply, they’ll kick him out, I’m sure.” I blew the air out of my mouth, allowing the angst to free itself and then I felt my eyes welling up.
The room stayed silent and warm. Very warm.
“It’s not what I want to do but it’s what I have to do”. I looked down at my lap because I wanted to hold back the tears and could feel them making a bid for freedom.
“It seems a bit drastic, Soph,” Colin said softly. “I really don’t want you to go.”
I looked up at his face, all forlorn and dazed. “I know. I don’t want to. I love my job but look at me Colin…I’m already having too much time off because of this and it’s now going to get worse. I thought if I could get some freelance work from different publications, companies and from here of course…”
“Soph, I would throw all sorts your way, if that’s what you choose to do, but you know it’s usually just reviews on restaurants, clubs and shows that we farm out. Is that really what you want to be doing? Plus I’d have to fill your position with somebody else, you know that?”
“Yes. I know that.” I placed the envelope I’d been clutching in my hand that contained my letter of resignation in front of him before I tore it into pieces. “Here’s my notice.” I said weakly.
He didn’t even pick it up. Another long silence stretched between us. “Sophie, I’m not going to even look at this until I leave tomorrow night. I want you to go home and think it over a bit longer. Take tomorrow off. If I don’t hear from you by the end of play then I’ll accept your resignation even though it�
�s not what I want.”
“OK.” I stood up quickly. “Thanks Colin.” He watched silently as I hurried out of his office and the tears fell from my eyes. I saw Johnno stare after me as I left crying. I couldn’t even begin to deal with that now. I was going to miss this place and these people way more than I could have possibly realised and the enormity of that threatened to knock me to the floor if I didn’t keep walking.
Chapter 18
I got back home to find Brendon in the kitchen cutting into a t-shirt. Not any t-shirt but a brand new, Lacoste polo shirt.
“What the hell are you doing?” I dropped my bag and went to snatch it from him.
“Fuck off!” he shouted, pulling it away, “I’m taking the label out the back because it does my head in. It irritates the back of my neck.” He was hacking too close to the fabric and about to ruin a very expensive top. This explained all the tears in the back of his other shirts that I’d noticed when I was ironing them. I’d forgotten to ask him why they all had gaping holes across the back seams, but now I knew.
“Let me do it, you’re going to cut it into shreds. It’s expensive.” I urged.
He threw it down on the kitchen counter along with the scissors. I rescued it quickly and began gently teasing at the stitches.
“What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve been crying,” he said brusquely.
“Well, I have. I’ve just handed my notice in to work and I’m very upset.”
“What for? Are you retarded? How are we going to have any money? That’s a bit selfish.”
I wanted to slap him. How dare he. I put down the Lacoste shirt I’d been carefully trying to remove the label from. The prized label that most people bought the damn named shirt for in the first place.
“I’m selfish. Are you serious? Well, Brendon, maybe if you had tried just to keep your mouth shut and your opinions to yourself I wouldn’t have to. I’m doing this to make sure you stay in school for the next six months and pass your exams. I’m doing this because YOUR timetable has been slashed, because YOU have been removed from lessons and YOU need to start getting your head round this because I’ll be coming in every day to make sure that YOUR behaviour is kept inline.”
“Whatever. You’re just lazy.” He pushed past me, put on his coat and left the house slamming the front door so hard I sensed the vibrations under my feet.
I felt the onset of angry tears and the heat rising from my chest and filling my cheeks. I went into the hall and kicked off my shoes. I noticed the pretty stained glass in the front door had cracked some more. A few more slams and that would come crashing to the floor like everything else.
I went back into the kitchen and opened the fridge looking for something to eat. Stress eating relief. Instead I saw a chilled bottle of vintage rose. I pulled it out and placed it on the counter and watched as its curved glass neck began to cover in a sweat of condensation. I uncorked the bottle and breathed in the scent of sunbathed, under ripe berries and freshly picked wild flowers. If a lovers’ picnic could have a scent, that would be it, I thought, as I poured the pale blush into a large glass. I never tired of hearing the first few glugs of liquid as it freed itself from the narrow neck of the bottle. I almost wanted to pour it back in and do it again. I took several, undignified slugs and let out a deep breath.
What a shit day.
I wasn’t going to change my mind about leaving work despite Colin making me feel like staying. I’d never get a boss like that again. Now I’d told Brendon I may as well tell Karl too and get it all over with. I looked at my watch. It was 6.20pm. Bryony would be back at 7-ish so I should ring him now whilst I had the house to myself. I took my wine glass and bottle with me to the study and fired up my computer. I’d need the spreadsheets I’d done, up on view, so I could answer anything he threw at me. If he answered of course. Maybe it would be the dancing doll and I’d get to tell her instead.
“Hi Soph.” He answered. I could hear the car roaring and streams of traffic behind him.
“Hi. The reason for the call is just to let you know that I handed my notice in today and I thought you should know.” There. I’d done it.
“Tell me you’re fucking joking..please..” His voice was heightened and raspy.
I took another swallow of pink juice.
“No, I’m not joking. I’ve made the decision to support Brendon and I can’t do both. But before you start going mental I’ve made a plan and a spreadsheet. I should be able to get enough freelance work to be just about OK. Plus I’ve put my car up for sale and I’ve changed the utility providers for the house so that’s cheaper and I’ve looked into changing the house insurance when it’s due next month. I’ve got loads I can sell, you know, like an eBay hobby. I’ve thought it through.” I said finishing and taking another slow sip of my chilled wine.
“You’ve thought it through? Thought it through? It’s the most monumentally, stupid decision I’ve ever known you make. Without any concerns for the financial impact that’s going to have on everyone else. I can’t afford to bail you out! I have more than enough expenses!”
“I haven’t asked you to bail me out,” I snapped, but he wasn’t listening.
“And how the fuck are we going to cover the mortgage and the council tax, the bills, the food and every other bloody thing. That property is a pension fund to me, to US and you’ve just killed it.”
“Like I said, I’ve made a spreadsheet. I can just about meet my fair share.”
“A spreadsheet. Right. Well that I’d LOVE to see that! A spreadsheet showing the future going up in smoke. Fucking unbelievable. You’ve left us high and dry. I suggest you rescind your notice rather sharpish.”
To say that I fucking hated him right then would have been a colossal understatement.
“No Karl, I will not rescind my notice because I am putting my child first. That’s what parents do. And, with respect, I haven’t left us high and dry, that’s what you did when you walked out on this family. When you decided it was just too much pressure. This is what I’m doing. End of. I’m sorry that doesn’t fit with your little agenda but bad luck. I’m the one here, dealing with the everyday shit, taking the abuse, making everything work so I think I’m MORE than entitled to make my own decisions on what’s right for my family.” My breathing was rapid with heightened emotion but I had a deadly, bone chilling control that seemed to be taking hold of me.
“Don’t turn this round on me!” he scoffed, “you’re the one making ‘silly girl’ decisions and changing everything and causing a workable situation to become difficult. What you’re doing is idiotic. And for the record I didn’t walk out on my family, as you put it, I left an environment that was impossible to function in.”
“Impossible to function in? I seem to have to do it Karl. I HAVE to because you didn’t. And you can dress it up however you like. You. Walked. Out.”
“Because I couldn’t live like that anymore. Not because I didn’t love my family. Not because I didn’t love you. That was the hardest thing for me!”
“Well, you didn’t love us enough.” I ended the call with a defiant press on the red button because it was going nowhere and I was sick of how he was talking to me. I couldn’t be bothered with the drama, the excuses or the blame. But I knew one thing. I was going to make this work even if I had to starve myself to death.
He didn’t call back which was a good thing because I wouldn’t have answered. It was rare I cut a call to anyone but if I did, ringing me back and expecting me to answer was futile. Karl knew that. I had no doubt he’d come back for more soon enough.
Brendon and Bryony both came through the door laughing, having picked each other up on the street outside. As soon as Bryony saw me she came and gave me a big hug. She smelt of cheap teen perfume and jelly sweets.
“Oh Mum, are you OK?” She hugged me tight. “I heard you packed your job in.”
“Yep. It’s not going down too well with people,” I replied into her hair.
“Because it’s stupid,”
said Brendon. “My names Mom… DUHHHHH.” He was laughing as he said it, but I didn’t find it funny.
“She’s doing it for you, Brendon!”
“You dizzy blud?” Brendon lifted Bryony from my hug and tipped her upside down. She wailed and beat her arms on his leg to be put down.
“Well at least you’re in a better mood,” I remarked sarcastically, “does anyone want any dinner?”
“Nope had mine at Jessie’s,” Brendon replied. Well that explained the lift.
“And I’ve been to MacDonald’s with everyone,” said Bryony. I didn’t class that as food but she was content enough and I was more than happy with my liquid equivalent after today.
I went into the living room and sat in the corner of my sofa and curled my legs up. I shut my eyes and just tried to be for a minute or two. Thoughts were whizzing round my mind and I couldn’t make them stop. I’d never been very good at that ‘Just empty your mind’ thing.
I clicked open my word game. ‘The Voice’ had wanted real time conversation. Maybe it would be nice to talk. I really liked him and he was so far removed from all the other stress in my life. Like a warm hand in the darkness.
SOPHISTICATION: Do you mean on the phone?
I typed in quickly before I changed my mind.
It was lunchtime there. It was a good fifteen minutes before he responded.
THE VOICE: Yes. That’s the usual practice.
Well of course it was. Why did I say that?
SOPHISTICATION: Yes, quite.
THE VOICE: So would you like to? Talk on the phone?
I felt all nervous again. But yes. Of course I did.
SOPHISTICATION: Yes. Why not.
THE VOICE: You don’t have to sound so enthusiastic.
As I was reading his last message and thinking I should have sounded a little more eager, Brendon came in the living room with a film.
“Think we should watch Fight Club,” he said as he went to put it in the DVD player.
