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It’s as if they punched me in the heart as I try to reassure two children that their parents love them, despite taking off for a few days without even telling them. Subsequently missing their nativity play after landing them with the aunt from their nightmares. I’m hardly Nanny McPhee, but I am developing an attachment to the two small children who have opened my eyes to the fact that there is so much more to life than work.
“I promised to video it.” I clutch them a little tighter. “So, make sure you speak up and look happy knowing they will be viewing it on live stream.”
“Really.” Brad sounds interested. “That’s cool.”
“So, they will be there.” Angelina sniffs.
“Not in body, but over the internet.” I hope to God he forgives my lie so close to the celebration of his son’s birth, but desperate measures are needed, and I won’t apologise for trying to make these children feel loved and so I pull back and glance at the angry beast waiting and say cheerfully, “Ok, jump in and let’s get this show on the road.”
Thankfully, they start cheering, which is better than the screams I expect when I attempt to navigate this beast through the school run traffic. I will definitely be having words with Sally when she returns about the need for a four by four in Worcester Park.
However, as soon as I turn the key and the beast roars into life, I become a different person.
For some reason, being in charge of this machine makes me feel like the most powerful woman alive. Now I am super mum sitting high up looking down on the masses and challenge anyone to get in my way. One of my favourite songs is playing on the radio, which calms my nerves and sets my mood to happy. I could get used to this and now I understand the power of the machine because as we pull out into the traffic, I am superior in every way. I can do this. I am one of them. It’s not so hard and as I set off on the school run, nothing will ever faze me again.
CHAPTER28
ROBERT
Waking up at home is different somehow. When I left Jessica and the kids, it seemed wrong, almost as if I was walking out on them. I wonder how their parents must be feeling because surely it’s the most agonising form of separation knowing people are depending on you.
There was another card waiting for me when I got home and now, as I open it, my heart sinks.
Happy Christmas to you and your girlfriend. Enjoy her while you can because now I get two for the price of one.
It’s as if a cold hand is reaching around my heart and crushing it as I let the words sink in.
The postman knows.
He is close by and watching me. My head starts to pound, and I think very hard about who it could be. Is it someone at Harvey’s? It must be because I don’t go anywhere else. Sure, we’ve been out for dinner, but they were all strangers. I’m positive the only people holding a grudge against me are Sam and my staff, but it can’t be Sam. He’s not even in the country.
Turning to my phone, I scroll through Facebook and type in his name. There may be some posts that tell me where he is and yet as I get to his page, I just get the message that this account is private. He blocked me.
All through the court case, he continued to allow me access, so why now? Is it because he lost, and he wants nothing to do with me, or has he got something to hide?
I try his sister’s page because to my knowledge, she has no reason to block me and luckily, I was right and as I scroll through her photos, I see nothing about Sam in her feed at all. Clicking on her friends, I try to go in that way but again, it won’t let me view Sam’s feed. I am so frustrated because I want to prove that he isn’t the one because if he is, I probably deserve this. The threats are chilling, and I wonder if they are empty ones, or does the postman intend on carrying them out? If so, Jessica is now in danger because of her involvement with me.
Sighing, I head to the office with a heavy heart and just hope things are ok there because for the first time since I took charge, I am taking the rest of the day off.
* * *
As I headinto the store, I question everyone I meet in my mind. The security guard at the staff entrance. The managers, who all nod courteously to me but lower their eyes as I pass. Am I really hated that much? I glance at a couple of women chatting as they make their way to their department, and they quickly stop and look at the floor. It’s as if I’m the Grim Reaper as I stride through my store, causing plants to shrivel up and die and flowers to wilt. I make people nervous, and I guess rightly so, because the purge of staff that followed my appointment did not go down well.
It was never personal though, only business, and the store has thrived under my command. Profits are up for the first time in three years and the store is undergoing a facelift that has been achieved without the need of a bank loan. The shareholders are happy and, more importantly, so is my grandfather and yet my staff are not.
I head to my office and flick on my computer, wishing like crazy I hadn’t generously allowed Sylvia to take time off because I could use a coffee and someone to cancel all my meetings today. However, one email makes me smile when I see it’s from the lady herself, and I experience a twinge of pride when I read what she has to say.
Morning, sir. I just wanted to say thank you again for the time off. I have managed to accompany my mother to her chemo sessions and help clean her house and make her a meal before heading home to spend time with my family. The prognosis is good, and the doctors are hoping she will only need four more sessions. I just wanted to thank you for easing my burden and allowing me to concentrate on my family when they need me most. I will be back just as soon as possible, and I hope you are coping without me (not too well, though).
Sylvia.
I dash off a quick reply.
Morning, Sylvia. Thanks for your email and I’m glad to hear your news. Send my regards to your mother and I wish her a speedy recovery. No need to rush back. It will be Christmas soon so you may as well concentrate on that. If you need anything, you know where to find me.
Robert.
It makes me laugh as I sign my name because, despite telling her on numerous occasions to use it when she talks to me, she never does. Sylvia is always respectful, which is what I like most about her. She understands this is a working relationship, and I respect her for that. However, that still leaves me without an assistant and so with a sigh, I begin to email my meetings to reschedule them, and I wonder what they would think if they knew it was to attend a nativity play of a family of strangers.
