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‘I’m on a mission to stop this culture of misogyny. To my shame, I admit I had no idea how bad it was in… certain departments. I think the word that comes to mind iscritical.Of course once one little birdie chirped, we had a whole gospel choir of them. Have you received an apology from Jeremy Watson?’
‘Well, not really, just a letter asking me to ring HR to confirm that I’d agreed to be fully reinstated.’
Polly watched Marjorie’s lips shrink back from her teeth, only for them to mutate into a tenuous smile.
‘Then he’s evidently intending to do that in person. So let me be the one who formally welcomes you back to…Business Strength.’ The pause before the company name was a derisive one, Polly thought.
Marjorie slid across the table an amendment to her job contract. Polly was to be elevated to managerial status with all the benefits and perks and bonuses that entailed, backdated to include all the work she had done for Nutbush. It was quite the improvement. It was the least Marjorie could do for people she liked in her remaining term in the job. Every mention of Jeremy Watson made her think that her early retirement couldn’t come fast enough.
‘It’s what you deserve, Polly. I want you back at your desk. They’ve already lost Auntie Marian’s Bread as a client since you were last here, and Arthur Peach has made a very noisy exit. Can we say Monday for your return?’
Polly nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I’ll be in on Monday.’
Marjorie stood and put out her hand again and she didn’t let it go when she’d shaken it.
‘Alan thought a lot of you, you know. If he’d still been here, he’d have put you in the driving seat and we wouldn’t now be in this era of BS.’
She spoke so sincerely that Polly felt choked by emotion. Alan had been a wonderful man, she knew, and she would welcome each new recollection of him as it came to her.
As she was walking out of the door, Marjorie called her back.
‘One more thing: I’m sure you remember Phil Bowery and Dave Deacon, don’t you?’
Polly did remember. Her old friends who were part of Alan’s inner circle and who’d been rudely shoved out in the takeover.
‘They’ve set up a company together, not before time, and they’re doing very well,’ said Marjorie. ‘They’ve calledthemselvesYorkshire Eagles.Phil contacted me last week, to see if I knew anyone of good calibre who might be interested in pastures new. It’s over near Whitby though, so quite a distance but… I said I’d keep my eyes and ears open, of course. Thank you, Polly. Enjoy your weekend.’
When she had gone, Marjorie returned to her chair and grinned to herself. She’d just park that there with Polly. She wouldn’t have been asisterif she’d kept that little nugget to herself.
Chapter 52
When Chris came in from work that night, he kicked off his boots and dropped his bag and then disappeared upstairs to change. Polly, grating cheese for a sauce, went to move the bag to the side and as her fingers touched the handle she was filled with a surge of anger that was almost too big for her to contain. She’d been here many times, she knew, and picking up this bag and shifting it was just a little thing but one of many little things that had made her unhappy in this house. She had walked out of it and then somehow stumbled into her own work of fiction and become the character who was ready to begin a new life. But here she was back in the old one, like a snake who had crawled into its discarded skin and found the fit tight and uncomfortable.
Will came round to see her that Sunday. He’d put Shauna off coming with him because he knew she just wanted to gawp. And an absolute no to Auntie Camay, who was still smarting about the wedding that never was and was itching to let rip about it to Polly’s face.
His dad was at the garage and had been all weekend – again. Will had told him to take some time off and book anight away or a meal out but Chris had said he was too busy. He’d laughed when Will then suggested a holiday. He said Polly was happy as she was. They’d have a holiday in a bit, when she was fully better. Maybe. His dad was a fool who fooled no one. He’d thrown a bunch of flowers and a box of Black Magic at Polly and expected it to be enough glue to hold together the structural break. Just like he’d done when he’d nearly lost her last year. And how come his dad didn’t even know that Polly disliked dark chocolate?
‘So you’re returning to work tomorrow.’
‘Yes, I’m back to it.’ She smiled at him.
‘Have you heard from the people you were staying with in Shoresend?’ asked Will, poking around in the cupboard for some biscuits.
‘I had a text from Marielle to check that I was okay.’
Polly had replied that she was, with a ‘speak soon’ tagged on the end, but she didn’t think she was up to calling her just yet; it would feel too raw. She’d deliberately distanced herself, for a while at least, so she could get her head straight in Polly’s world. But it was impossible to stop her thoughts wanting to fly to them, as they so often did.
‘They seemed like good people,’ said Will.
‘They were very kind to me.’
‘Have you told them at work what happened to you?’
Polly shook her head. She didn’t want to give Jeremy any ammunition to manipulate her. She was pretty sure her professional capabilities weren’t affected, so there was no reason to have that conversation. She’d tackle it, if it came up, but such information given would be on a need-to-know basis.
‘You love your job, don’t you?’ said Will, thudding his body down on the chair at the table. ‘You’re lucky. I hate mine.’
‘Then change it,’ said Polly. ‘What is it you want to do?’
