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I turn and walk out of his office, crossing the warehouse, and not stopping until I’m inside the staff room. For the length of time it takes to collect my coat and my handbag, I feel exhilarated. I’m free of that asshole.
By the time I’m outside on the street, the feeling has been replaced by dread. I’m now unemployed. I’ve got bills to pay. I doubt I’ll get my last paycheck after that little performance.
An icy cold lump forms in my stomach and I feel sick. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut and get back to work?
“Anna,” a voice shouts behind me.
I turn and there’s Marie, running up to me. “What happened?” she asks.
“Like you care,” I tell her.
“What are you talking about?”
“Frank told me what you said to him. He told me you saw me stealing bottles of vodka and then loading them into my bag? Did you tell him that, Marie?”
She twists on the spot, her feet shuffling like she needs to pee.
“Did you?” I ask again.
Her mouth twists at the corners, her cheeks blowing up. “You made me,” she blurts out at last.
“I made you?”
“I told you I wanted Gary to move in with me and you wouldn’t let him.”
I shake my head, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing. “So, let me get this straight. You did this because I didn’t want your boyfriend to move in? You told Frank I’m a thief?”
I shake my head. “You told me it was a two person tenancy when I moved in. Told me anyone extra would lead to us both being evicted. You told me that Larry would throw us out, Marie. Made me swear I’d never get a boyfriend.”
“You’re just jealous because you can’t get a boyfriend. That’s all this is. You’re jealous of me and Gary.”
“I’m jealous of the man who put a hidden camera in the bathroom last time you let him stay over? Did you think maybe that might have something to do with why I don’t want him to move in?”
“You can’t prove he did that.”
“I didn’t do it. I’m guessing you didn’t. Who else did it? The ghost of Christmas shit?”
She shakes her head, folding her arms across her chest. “I took you in when you came out of care,” she says. “No one else would. I gave you a room so you wouldn’t be out on the streets.”
“And I’m trying to help you. Gary’s an asshole, Marie.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Then why did he install the camera? Why did he try to get into bed with me last week?”
“He went into your room by mistake, that’s all.”
“That’s what he told you, is it? And you believe him? How am I supposed to pay my half of the rent now you’ve got me fired?”
“Not my problem,” she says, jabbing me in the chest with a finger. “You always thought you were better than me. Always looking down your nose at me. Got out of care and just got given a job? I had to fight for mine. Who offered you a spare room? Me.
“You couldn’t be grateful though, could you? Locking yourself away with that bullshit sketchbook of yours night after night. Always thinking you’re too good to spend time with other people. Look where that’s got you, Anna. You just lost your job and you know what? I’m glad.”
I manage a smile. I won’t give her the satisfaction of crying. “You should count yourself lucky I didn’t tell Frank who stole all that vodka,” I tell her. “I saw you putting it in your bag, but I said nothing, and you know why? Because I didn’t want to get you into trouble.”
“How noble of you.”
“I thought we were friends, Marie.”
