Page 9 of Somewhere Only We Know

‘Are you saying I’m unstable?’ A tremor of fear rocked through me.

‘… the people skills,’ she continued.

‘I’m bad with people?’ I said, affronted by the insinuation.

‘And whose values are more closely aligned with those of ShopSwift – i.e. tolerant and inclusive.’

‘I’m very tolerant!’

‘Try telling that to Kevin Armstrong.’

I couldn’t argue with that. ‘If we’re talking company values, I had to have a word with Lee last week about posting fart videos on the internal messaging system.’

Anna smirked. ‘I quite like them.’

I threw a hand up in despair. ‘If sharing puerile jokes is what gets you promotion, then I’m done for.’

‘So right now,’ she said, circling back, ‘I can’t say you’d be my first choice. Because I’m not even sure that ShopSwift is the place for you.’

I gulped. ‘You can’t be serious?’

So, this was how my career ended. One rash moment in twenty years of exemplary service – and game over. And if work wasn’t the place for me, then where was? Nowhere, that was where.

Silence descended and I willed the lights to change to break the moment. Anna looked as if she was hating this conversation as much as I was. Eventually the lights turned to amber, but a last-minute flurry of kids appeared, and the crossing person stood their ground resolutely, still holding up traffic.

‘You need a break from work,’ Anna said gently. ‘I wouldn’t be doing my best by you, not only as your employer, but as a friend, if I didn’t intervene. You need to switch off completely, no emails, no phone calls and certainly no middle-of-the-night messages.’

‘I can’t think of anything worse.’ I waited for her to point her finger and do a Lord Sugar on me. I could almost see the words you’re fired forming on her lips.

‘Come on, Maggie,’ she chided. ‘There’s more to life than work.’

That was exactly what Brontë had said the very last time I saw her. She’d accused me of putting work before everything. At the time it hadn’t been true. I loved my daughter above all else. But now she was gone.

‘Not for me, there isn’t,’ I murmured. ‘Not anymore.’

‘What you did yesterday was not only a sackable offence, but a huge error of judgement on your part.’ Anna tempered her words with a sympathetic tone. ‘You’re on the verge of being what Human Resources would term a loose cannon. And we can’t have that.’

‘I understand.’ I pictured myself at home, scrolling through vacancies, updating my CV, cold-calling possible employers, and had to suppress a shudder. ‘Look, I admit that I’ve struggled this week, thinking that Brontë should be on the other side of the world by now. It’s unsettled me, that’s all.’

‘I’m not sacking you,’ Anna announced.

My insides unclenched. ‘Thank God, thank you.’

‘I’m trying to support you during this … difficult time you’re going through by insisting that you take a break.’

‘I can do that,’ I replied. I’d agree to anything if it meant putting this behind us. ‘My sister is always telling me to use her cabin in the Lake District. I’ll go there for a few—’

‘Months,’ Anna jumped in before I could say days. ‘A few months. Call it a sabbatical. A non-negotiable sabbatical.’

‘Months?’ My jaw fell. ‘We’re too busy for that! There’s the Vap-A-Rise contract, plus a hundred and one projects in the pipeline, and George is still on probation. I want to make sure he gets the support—’

‘We’ll manage all that.’ Anna was firm. ‘No one is indispensable, Maggie, not even you.’

My heart knocked against my ribs as I processed what she was saying. If the company didn’t need me, then who did? I literally couldn’t think of anyone. I’d built my life around those who’d needed me. First my sister Kat when she was young, until she met her lovely husband, and then Brontë and lastly, ShopSwift. Now nobody needed me.

‘Take some time off, find your spark again,’ Anna continued.

Panic flared in my chest. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’