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Escape to Giddywell Grange

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by Kim Nash




  Escape to Giddywell Grange

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  A Letter From Kim

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  Escape to Giddywell Grange

  Kim Nash

  To Ollie

  My world!

  You fill every day with sunshine.

  You are handsome, brave, funny, kind and just wonderful and are growing up into the most amazing young man that your Papa would be so very proud of. I know I am.

  Dream big my darling, you can achieve anything that you put your mind to, but don’t ever change!

  Thank you for being my son.

  Love you

  Xxx

  Chapter One

  Anticipation and nervous energy are making me feel sick to the stomach right now. I’m trying to hold it all together while I potter around the kitchen at work, laying out cups and saucers and a plate of chocolate biscuits ready for the meeting.

  It’s soooo exciting. I’ve been like a cat on a hot tin roof all weekend. Instead of making the most of the gorgeous July weather, I’ve been inside brushing up on my presentation skills and making sure I can go in there and promote my backside off.

  There’s been so much talk around the office for the last couple of weeks. There’s definitely something big going down. I’ve worked for Ronington’s PR & Marketing for twelve years and I can tell there’s something on the cards because of all the secrecy that’s been going on. There have been lots of meetings recently with the accountants and solicitors and before she left the office on Friday lunchtime, Celine, the managing director, said she wanted to see me first thing on Monday. Celine is my idol. She’s elegant, dramatic, stunning and just amazing. She takes no crap from anyone. She’s a badass. If I could be anyone in life, I’d want to be her.

  Everyone in the office heard what she said to me.

  ‘First thing Monday morning, Madison, I need to see you. It’s very important.’

  They’re all saying that it’s my time; that after all these years, the company has recognised my hard work and commitment. All the early mornings and late nights are going to finally pay off. All those miles of driving my company car up and down the country meeting clients. All the times I’ve had to cancel going along to things that my friends were going to, the times I’ve had to cancel seeing my mum, because I’ve had to work. The arrangements I’ve had to cancel. The relationships I’ve jeopardised. They were all heading to this exact place and time. This is what it was all for!

  It’s my time.

  Melissa, the MD’s operations director and right-hand woman – who has worked at the company for about a million years – is about to go on maternity leave. Everyone has been buzzing around me, saying that there’s absolutely no shadow of a doubt that I’ll be formally promoted from my role as senior sales executive to operations director. After all, I’ve been practically doing the job for the last couple of years, working alongside her. I’m pretty damn sure I’m going to be made a director.

  I’m so ready for this; so ready to fill her boots and make that job mine. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of and I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. On Saturday I bought myself a new promotion-worthy power suit. I have a ton of other work suits, but for this meeting today I wanted something special so I opted for a navy-blue trouser suit and a light flowery camisole top to soften the look. I’ve had my highlights touched up and nails polished this weekend, and if I say so myself, with my hair scraped back in a tight bun, bright red lippy for a bit of extra confidence and a pair of red high heels to finish it off, I look immaculate.

  Even though I am feeling apprehensive, I’m not going to let anyone see that. I’ve built up a persona over the years of being really cool, calm and ultra professional, and I’d never let the people I work with think anything else. I put on a bloody good show, I can tell you. Inside, there are times when I am totally lacking in confidence, my nerves in tatters and I’m shaking like a leaf but I would never let on to anyone – I don’t let people get close enough to me.

  I just want to show Celine that I am the perfect person to take the company forward and ensure it runs smoothly and efficiently.

  * * *

  I’m in a world of my own while making the tea and think about the lady I see every morning, when I drink my first coffee of the day, overlooking the lake from my lounge window. I’m not sure why she’s just popped into my mind. She fascinates me, and I wonder about her life. Always looking glamorous, immaculately dressed even when walking her dog, she ambles along in a leisurely way as if she has not a care in the world. So very different to me. I might look like I’m in control, but most of the time I feel completely stressed out, always someone to call, to email or to have a meeting with. Today she was meandering along in flowery navy Joules wellies (that look like they’ve never been through a puddle in their life), figure-hugging jeans, a cashmere jumper (which she seems to have in a million different colours – today’s was powder blue) and what looked like a Gucci scarf tied air-hostess-style around her slim neck, and a fake fur gilet (at least I hope it’s fake!). I wish I was less stressed. I love my job completely but it’s so full on. This promotion should mean a more office-based role, so I can cut down on the travelling. That should definitely take away some of the pressure I seem to currently work under.

  You never know what goes on in someone’s life do you? I wonder how she fills her day. Does she work? If she does, what job does she do? If she doesn’t, what does she do with herself all day? Does she have children? Grandchildren, even? Does she have a husband? A lover? What is her story? I’m totally intrigued by her.

  Watching them walking together, her dog tucked closely into her leg, tugged at my heartstrings, and is still preying on my mind now; the way he looked up at her from time to time for her approval and the way she smiled back at him, chattering away to him. He sat for a treat along the way and she laughed and said something to him before she handed him one. I wonder now what she said. They seem to have a really special relationship and there’s a tiny bit of me that’s a tad envious. The connection they have makes me yearn for a dog. I’ve always wanted one but it’s never been the right time.

  I’d love a true companion to share my life with. Someone to go home to at night after a hard day, to babble away to and who loves you unconditionally. Someone who doesn’t care if you a have a spot on your chin, or if you’re in your jimjams, or don’t have your lippy on. Most people would say that should be a person – a boyfriend, partner or husband – but after what happened with Jamie, I think I’d be better off with a dog than a human. However, with all the white furnishings in my apartment, I don’t suppose my landlord would even consider me having a dog and with my hectic career, it wouldn’t be fair on a dog either. It’s too much of a commitment right now, especially as this promotion is in the bag, so I’ve parked the idea for way into the future.

  * * *

  The kettle boils, breaking me from my daydream. I pour the water over the teabags in the pot and take a deep breath before picking up the tray and making my way across the main
office, trying to balance everything as I knock on the door to Celine’s office and open the door with my hip. She’s the first one in the office every morning. Goodness knows what time she gets up but I know she doesn’t see her kids before she comes to work as she’s in the office by seven a.m. every day and it takes her an hour to get here. They must be in bed before she gets home at the other end of the day too, as she’s normally the last one in the office apart from on a Friday when she finishes at two. It must be great to have a live-in nanny but surely her children must spend more time with her than they do with their parents.

  I gulp and feel melancholy as I think that if I was ever lucky enough to have children, that’s not the way I’d want to bring them up. I’d want to be the one who walks their children to school, holding hands and chattering as we walk up the street. Can’t think about that right now, though. And the hours that she keeps wouldn’t bother me. For the last few years, it’s not as if I’ve had anyone waiting at home for me, even though it might be nice if there was, so perhaps it would take some of the pressure off her a little too. It was just a great solution for everyone.

  Celine looks up from her desk as I walk in, and I notice that a frown crosses her brow then disappears as quickly as it arrived, before she stands to greet me with what appears to be a nervous smile, not her normal cheery composure. Perhaps she’s had a bad night’s sleep.

  ‘Madison dahling, good morning. Come, come. Let me take that tray from you.’

  She places the tray on the coffee table and invites me to sit while she pours the tea.

  ‘Madison, you’ve worked here now for many, many years?’ She sits on the sofa directly opposite me and sips her tea.

  ‘Just over twelve actually, Celine.’

  ‘Wow, doesn’t time fly.’ She smiles at me and I realise that she is starting to look old, with the start of wrinkles around her eyes and frown lines that I haven’t noticed before. ‘You’ve shown such a sterling commitment to the company over the years and we couldn’t have asked for a better ambassador for the business. You’ve brought in millions of pounds of revenue over those years.’

  I smile at her, so happy that she’s recognised everything I’ve been working towards.

  ‘You’ve also been one of the most loyal members of staff we’ve ever had. People have come and gone over the years, yet you’ve remained here by my side, doing a job that is incredibly important to the company and to me personally and going over and above what was asked of you, taking on any task you were asked to do.’

  ‘Thank you so much, Celine. Working here is not just a job to me, it’s my way of life. I love it here.’ I feel a million dollars, so proud of her words and so glad that she understands how hard I have worked over the years and that she is finally recognising it.

  At that exact point, her mobile phone rings and she excuses herself as she moves over to the window and explains briefly in hushed tones, that I can only just hear, to someone that she can’t talk now, as she is in a very important meeting. That’s me! She’s in a very important meeting with me! I couldn’t be more pleased. I grin from ear to ear.

  I look across at the other desk in the room where Melissa sat, before she left on Friday and imagine placing my new gorgeous planner there. I could put my pen pot on the right-hand side of the desk, and my rack of trays on the left.

  Celine comes back to the couch, sighs deeply and breathes in. ‘I’m so sorry Madison, but I’m going to have to let you go.’

  I smile. ‘Oh ok, no problem. Shall I come back in a little while when you are less busy? How long do you think you’ll need?’ I am disappointed of course, but it can wait until later. This is way too important to not make the most of.

  ‘Madison.’ She sighs loudly. ‘I’m not sure you understand me. There are lots of changes taking place, and with the boom in the online marketplace, the company isn’t doing anywhere near as well as it used to. There’s no easy way to say this; I’m going to have to let you go. I have to make you and some of the other staff redundant. I’m so very sorry and it breaks my heart to do this to you but I have no other option. Either I make a few people redundant or we close completely. We’re so sorry but we have to do this to give the business one last chance.’

  Time stands still as I look at her in disbelief.

  ‘Let me go? Make me redundant?’ I question. Am I hearing her correctly? Numbness sets into my body. I can’t move.

  ‘Yes dear, that’s right. I really am sorry. It’s not what I wanted but we’ve explored every option. The HR department will be in touch with you and I think you’ll find that we’ve been most generous with your redundancy payout to show our thanks for your support over the years. I’m so sorry Madison, but I have no alternative. As you know, we’ve had accountants and solicitors in over the last few weeks and we really have explored every option, but there really is nothing else we can do.’

  A tear plops into the cup of tea I am holding and my hands begin to shake.

  ‘Now now, dahling, please don’t cry. Let’s not make this any worse than it already is.’ She comes across, takes the cup from me and places it on the table. Putting her arm around my shoulders, she tries to comfort me.

  ‘Sometimes these things work out for the best. You’ll have enough money to see you through for a good few months, while you look around. And you will find something else, something wonderful – just like you – and I shall give you a personal glowing reference. And if ever I need a right-hand woman in the future, you’re the first person I’ll call. I promise you that.’

  She stands to indicate that our chat has come to an end, and steers me towards the door. ‘I think that under the circumstances, you should just pack up your things and leave now, before the others come into work and you have to face them. Less upsetting for everyone. I’ll leave you to gather your things together. There should be a letter in the next day or so from the HR department, detailing your settlement. Your company car will need to be returned at the end of the month and if you could leave your company mobile phone on your desk, that would be good. I really am so sorry, Madison. I wish things could have been different.’ Her voice breaks and the strain on her face tells me that this is hard for her too. ‘Goodbye and thank you for everything. Good luck for the future.’ She leans into me and pecks my cheek nervously, blinking away tears before walking back to her desk.

  And just like that, after twelve years of working at Ronington’s PR and Marketing, I am dismissed.

  * * *

  In a daze, I stumble to the kitchen and find an empty box and take it over to my desk. I pack away the mug that I have used every day for the last two years; the mug I was presented with, along with an engraved paperweight, and an Amazon voucher, on my ten-year anniversary of working here. I pack away my pens and my note pads, my calculator and my ruler. I open my desk and remove the emergency pair of natural-coloured tights and the headache tablets that I always have close at hand in case anyone needs them. The packet soups and the bars of chocolate that I kept handy for the late night shifts get thrown into the box. There’s nothing left. That’s it. My drawers and my desk are empty.

  Twelve years of hard work, dedication and a working life, are packed away in a small box within a minute or two at the most. I do a small calculation in my head and work out that I’ve spent more time here in this office than I have at home awake. How very sad is that! I am officially redundant. I don’t have a job. My job is my life. What am I going to do? And more than that, what will people think? I’ve told so many people that I have the best job and the best life, and that I was going to get promoted. They’ll all be laughing at me now. My heart starts to pound. I can’t let it happen again. I can’t go back to the point I was before. My breathing starts to become erratic and my head is banging. I think I’m going to have a panic attack.

  Trying to remember all the mechanisms that I’ve been taught to cope with this feeling, I try to stay focused and leave the office by the stairs, to avoid bumping into anyone when I’m coming ou
t of the lift. I walk through reception and out of the revolving doors, looking back only once. I walk around the corner from the entrance, and take a seat on a nearby wall and start to inhale slowly and deeply through my nose, imagining my lungs filling with good air. Then I breathe out through my mouth, pushing all the bad thoughts away. I close my eyes and concentrate on nothing else but my breathing until eventually it starts to steady and I feel better, calmer, more grounded. Stumbling a little but taking it really slowly, I make my way over to the car park, where my black Mercedes C Class, my pride and joy, awaits me. As I sink into the driver’s seat, I lean back into the headrest and do those breathing exercises. And I make my way home.

  Chapter Two

  I drove home in a bit of a daze to my rented lakeside apartment. As I walked through the door and looked at its sparseness, something hit me. Because I was always at work or working away, I never spent much time there, but I saw it this morning through new eyes and as I looked around me trying to gain some comfort from the one place that you are supposed to feel safe and content, I realised that my home actually had no soul.

  This was the place that Jamie and I had picked eight years ago, to spend what I thought would be the next chapter of our lives together. We chose the gorgeous Staffordshire lakeside setting as it was quite a trendy location, not too far from Stafford town centre where we both worked and there were a few bars close by too. It was also the place that held so many memories; some great and some that I couldn’t bear to think about.

  Out of habit, I picked up my phone to see whether I had any missed calls and realised that actually no one was going to call me. This was my personal phone and all my work calls would be going to the phone I left at the office. I felt like I’d lost my purpose. It was a really strange feeling. Normally I would walk through the door and set up my Mac on the dining room table, and it was always there in the background. But now, I had no computer to turn on. There was no pinging of emails, or dinging of our automated work communication system. Just silence. Even when I took time off, which was very rare for me, I always checked in every day, just in case anything important came through. But now there was nothing to check. I suppose at the agency I liked to feel like I was indispensable but now I thought about it, was anyone, ever? Was anyone at work even thinking about me now and how I felt? I thought some of them may have phoned me to be honest after they’d been told the news, but I had heard not a sausage from a soul that I had spent every day of my life with. It was weird and deathly quiet. And I hated it.

 

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