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Chapter 20
When Carts walked past Ron’s office on Monday morning, he braced for the usual barrage of insults.He very much doubted that a week’s leave would have improved Ron’s warped view of the world.But a weekhadchanged him.Beyond recognition.
He would no longer put up with Ron’s shit.
All the way into the city he’d worked on a cutting, icily polite response that would put Ron firmly back in his box.
Head facing forward, spine erect, he stalked past his boss’s door, and then… nothing.
No “Wells, wipe that hangdog look off your face” or “Got caught in a tornado on the way in, did you?”Not even the inevitable “Get a bloody haircut, boy!”even though now, of course, he’d had a miracle performed by the hair goddess, Tara.
When no spew of vitriol eventuated, Carts ground to a halt half a metre past Ron’s door.
Curiosity made him step backwards and peer round the door.
The room was empty.
Ron may have outsourced his workload to the minions, but he was always at work earlier than everyone else.Ready to delegate while he drank coffee and chatted on the phone to one of his gnarly fishing mates.
Carts blinked at the sight.
Finally, he went to his desk in a bit of daze.As he powered up his computer, Travis’s face popped over the partition and hissed, “Heard about Ron?”
Carts shook his head.
“He’s being investigated.”
“What for?”
“Harassment.Amy reported him for making constant derogatory comments about her appearance.And that’s only the start I reckon.”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, apparently, that’s why he wasn’t here last week.”
“Good on Amy,” Carts said.It struck him that Ron had been cunning.He’d divided and conquered.Carts had always thought cheery Amy Nash with her can-do attitude had been a bit of a fave with Ron.He’d never heard a whisper that Ron was harassing her.But then, he’d never said a word about Ron’s treatment of him either.Just hunkered down and tried to survive the onslaught.
Such was the power of bullies.
He got on with his day, feeling oddly fidgety, like a bullet had been removed from his gut, but still left an indent.At lunch time, it felt strange not to have to hurry back in case he got the usual barbed comments for being gone too long.
On a whim, he went and bought a gelato after he’d eaten his salad wrap.
Decisively, he ordered a scoop of cherry white chocolate and a scoop of salted caramel.
Then he strolled down to their secret spot, took a picture of the gelato and sent it to Judith.
Almost immediately, his phone pinged.Awww yum.Wish I was there.Can’t wait to see you tonight.
They’d chatted on the phone yesterday evening for over an hour.She’d told him about her conversations with her mum and Pippa
“I don’t know if they’ve talked yet.I kind of don’t want to know,” she’d told him.“I’m leaving it up to them.”
“And if they don’t, what then?”
There was a silence before she said, a little mischievously, “I won’t make brownies for either of them, ever again.Come to think of it, I’m not sure I want to make brownies foranyoneever again.”
He’d laughed.“Fancy meeting up tomorrow after work?Would that be—too keen?”
