by Daniel Hurst
‘I don’t know. I’m sure everything’s okay,’ I say, but I’m not very convincing, and Samantha isn’t buying it.
‘It must be something bad for the police to get involved.’
‘I suppose.’
‘Becky thinks someone has been stealing, but I don’t know about that. What do you think?’
I’m just about to repeat my position that I have no idea what any of this could be about when I see the door to the HR office swing open, and Katherine looks out at the sea of confused faces.
‘Imogen, could you come in here a second, please?’
All eyes around the office are suddenly on me as I stare back at Katherine and try to pretend like she hasn’t just summoned me into a meeting with the police. But she has, so I have no choice but to drag myself to my feet and make my way across the room towards her.
My legs are like jelly, and my heart rate is jacked as I get closer, and I can see heads turning and following my path as I go. How I long to be just one of the crowd like the rest of my colleagues right now instead of the star of the show, the one everybody is looking at, and the one everybody is now thinking might hold the key to all the answers as to what is going on.
When I reach the door, Katherine looks serious but gives nothing else away, so I follow her in with all sorts of paranoid thoughts running through my mind. Am I going to be accused in here? Am I going to be arrested?
Am I going to be marched back out of this office in handcuffs right in front of all the people I have spent years working with?
It’s little wonder why I don’t want to close the door behind myself because doing so would make me feel trapped. But Katherine asks me to do it when she notices that it is still open, and I do as I am told, probably to the disappointment of everybody out in the office who was peering in and trying to eavesdrop on what is about to be said.
‘We have some bad news,’ Katherine tells me as I take a seat in between the two officers. It was the only chair left, and I hate to be stuck between the pair of them, but there is nowhere else.
‘Bad news?’ I say, doing my best acting job. ‘What bad news?’
Katherine looks like she is about to tell me before she suddenly breaks down in tears and puts her hand over her face as she reaches for a box of tissues on her desk.
‘I’m afraid your colleague Michael Brown is dead.’
The sombre news was delivered by the police officer to my right, and this is the crucial moment because I have to make it seem like this is as shocking to me as it obviously is to Katherine.
I don’t know how good a job I do of it, but it must be okay because I’m not accused of having anything to do with it, nor am I marched out of this room in handcuffs. All that happens is that I am asked a couple of questions about my boss, including the last time I saw him, his recent state of mind, and if I knew about what he got up to in his personal time outside of the workplace.
I answered every question to the best of my ability, not honestly, but tactically, and it seemed to do the job because the police officers left a few minutes later, telling us that they would be in touch if they had any more questions and that their sympathies were with us and the rest of our colleagues at this difficult time.
When they have gone, and when Katherine has stopped blubbing into a tissue, that’s when she gives me two more pieces of news.
She tells me that I am now the acting general manager for the UK branch.
And my first job is to tell the rest of the office what has happened to the old manager.
32
It doesn’t seem that long ago when I stood up in front of my colleagues and prepared to speak to them about something important. It also doesn’t seem that long ago when Michael got up from his seat on the front row and hijacked that presentation, delivering it himself and rendering me obsolete. But a lot has happened since then. I am standing back in front of my colleagues in this meeting room, preparing to address them all, but there is a chair on the front row that sits empty. Michael is not here anymore, no longer available to ruin my day and my career. He is gone forever.
And that is the topic of today’s speech.
‘Thank you all for gathering so quickly,’ I begin from my position at the front of the room. ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news to pass on.’
There are several glances amongst different groups of colleagues, but it’s not long until everyone is back to looking at me and waiting to hear the bombshell that will explain why we were visited by officers of the law this morning.
My hands are clammy, my breathing is shallow, and my heart is pounding, and this is harder than I thought. Of all the people to have to do this, why did it have to be me? But it makes sense for it to be me because I’m the new boss now. I’m the new Michael.
I just need to explain what happened to the old one.
‘There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it. Unfortunately, Michael passed away last night.’
There are audible gasps around the room, and hands shoot to cover gaping mouths as the shock registers and the emotion hits.
‘What happened?’ somebody calls out, but I missed who it was amongst all the chattering, the crying and the disbelief.
Suzanne in accounts is bawling her eyes out. Thomas in compliance is shaking his head. And Keith in the treasury team looks as if he has just seen a ghost. Everybody is stunned. Everybody is floundering. And now it’s my job to steer this ship and get everybody being productive again at the soonest possible time so that profits aren’t affected and tough questions aren’t asked from head office.
But today is not a day for worrying about that. It’s a day for managing grief, and in my case, it’s a day for making sure nobody suspects that I had anything to do with this.
‘This is obviously a big shock and very upsetting news, so I want you all to know that you can take as much time as you need to come to terms with it. If you feel like you cannot return to your duties today, then that is fine. You can go home. Likewise, if you feel that you need to speak to anybody here, whether it’s myself, HR, or one of your colleagues, please do. This is a very difficult time, and it’s important that we communicate with each other and let each other know how we are feeling.’
I mean what I say about wanting my colleagues to express their emotions openly and honestly, but I will not be following my own advice. Instead, I am bottling everything up and burying my real thoughts and emotions down deep, where they will hopefully never have to see the light of day again.
‘I don’t understand. What happened?’ Samantha asks me from her seat on the end of the front row.
‘The police are still trying to determine all the facts,’ I reply, but I already know that isn’t going to be good enough to satisfy the curiosity of my staff.
‘But you must know what happened. How did he die?’
‘I, err…’
I’m floundering, and everybody must be able to see it, but fortunately, Katherine comes to my rescue.
‘We appreciate you all must have plenty of questions, and there will be a time for more answers, but as Imogen said, this is currently a matter for the police, so please respect that. We would also appreciate it if you didn’t engage in speculation until that time. Thank you.’
Asking a bunch of office workers not to speculate about the mysterious death of their boss is like asking a hungry child not to go in the fridge when they get home from school, but Katherine is just doing her duty as the HR manager, and fair play to her. Despite her moment of weakness in her office when the police officers were present, she has recovered well, and she certainly bailed me out a moment ago. I’m not sure how long I could have stood up here and fielded questions about my boss’s death, particularly when I actually have all the answers, and they are answers that can never be revealed.
‘Thanks, Katherine,’ I say after letting everybody know that they are excused.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Katherine tells me as the room starts to empty. ‘These next fe
w days are going to be hard as hell, but we’ll get through them if we all stick together.’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘How are you feeling?’
The question from Katherine is a surprising one, not because she isn’t a kind and considerate woman but because I wasn’t prepared for somebody to ask me how I was. After all, I am the boss now, and I’m not sure how often a boss gets asked about their current state of mind.
‘I’m okay,’ I say, trying to find the right balance between seeming upset yet still in control. ‘I’m not sure it’s really sunk in yet.’
‘I know what you mean. Don’t work yourself too hard over these next few days. I’ll leave it a little while before I send out the memo about you being the acting manager now, so that should hopefully buy you some private time.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’
‘Unfortunately, there is something that I’m not going to be able to put off for you. It’s your trip to New York. You’re going to have to go to Head Office. Probably next week. They’ll want to talk to you about how this office moves forward now Michael has gone.’
I was expecting this, but not quite so soon. Being promoted and becoming the boss in this branch has long been a dream of mine, but before it can become official, I always knew I would have to travel to New York and sit down with the CEO of the bank, as well as perhaps a few of the board members. They are the ones who will have to make the final decision on any changes in the management structure, so it is they who will be the ones who can turn my job title from acting GM to just GM. That will require me sitting down with Alastair, the CEO whom I have always got on well with on the few occasions he has visited this office and sat in on some of my meetings.
I expect me going to New York will be just a formality, and while flying across the Atlantic with all of this on my mind is hardly ideal, a change of scene might do me good. Being in the Big Apple might give me a fresh perspective on things and snap me out of my pity party. It’s important to remember that Michael was the bad guy, and I was trying to protect myself against him. Just because he died when I pushed him doesn’t make me a murderer or a bad person. I’m still me, and I’ve still worked damned hard to get to this position.
Now I am in pole position for the promotion I have always dreamed about. With Michael gone, I no longer have to feel like there is a cloud hanging over me. I gave him plenty of opportunities to go easier on me over the years, but he never let up, so ultimately, he got what he deserved. And now, with a trip to head office on the horizon, it seems as if I am about to get what I deserve too.
33
What a day. There aren’t many better feelings in the world than entering your home and shutting the front door after several long hours of work-related stresses and strains. That’s why it feels good to be home now, back in my favourite place after what was easily the hardest day in not just my career but my life.
If the morning wasn’t tough enough, having to speak to police officers and let all my colleagues know that our boss had died, the afternoon proved almost as tricky to negotiate. There were emails to send and calls to answer, more people to break the news to, and more of Michael’s work being piled onto me now that he would never be around to finish it himself. There was a tense meeting with the rest of the management team in the UK office, as well as a video call with New York in which Alastair told me that I had the support of everybody in the business while also saying he looked forward to speaking with me in person over the next week or so. And last but not least, there were multiple emotionally charged conversations with distressed members of my team, all of them trying to process their shock and grief and looking to me to help them do it.
It would have been a horrendous day even if Michael had died in something more innocent like a car accident or a heart attack. But try being around people who want answers about his death when you’re the one responsible for it.
That’s why arriving home now has never felt better. I don’t have to wear a mask here. I don’t have to pretend to be somebody I’m not. I don’t even have to talk if I don’t want to. All I have to do is grab a quick bite to eat and go and lie down on the bed, and that is what I fully intend to do. Or at least it is until I walk into the kitchen and see what Evan has got planned for me.
The first thing I notice is the apron he is wearing. The second thing I register is the two bubbling pots on the stove. And the third thing I spot is the table, which has been set for what looks like a three-course meal complete with a flickering candle in between the two settings.
‘Hi, love. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,’ Evan says as he notices me in the doorway and puts down his spatula to come over and greet me.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask him as I look around at all his hard work.
‘We’re celebrating, silly!’ he cries before rushing back over to one of the bubbling pans and quickly lowering the heat.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Your promotion, of course!’
Evan dips his finger into some kind of red sauce and gives it a lick before seeming pleased with himself.
‘Oh, right,’ I say as I continue to stand in the doorway and watch him work.
In all the chaos and stress of today, I’d completely forgotten that I’d told him about my new acting GM role at work. He had called me at lunchtime to check I was okay after he noticed I wasn’t feeling myself last night, and rather than try to keep it a secret for him while I processed recent events, I told him that Michael had died and that I had been given his role for the time being.
Of course, in my husband’s world, that was cause for celebration, and he had certainly celebrated as he cheered down the phone at me and told me how it was great news. It might seem like that was a slightly heartless response from Evan to the news of Michael’s death, but it wasn’t entirely unwarranted. After all, he hated the man almost as much as I did. He obviously never knew the extent of my complicated relationship with my boss, but he did know how miserable it was making me because he was the one who had to try to cheer me up every night when I came home sulking. He also knows exactly how many plans of ours have been ruined by Michael placing diabolical demands on my time at the last minute, and it’s not an exaggeration to say that my late boss put our marriage under significant strain at various times over the years due to how much time we had to spend apart while I worked. That was why Evan celebrated the news so strongly when he found out that Michael was out of the picture and I had finally achieved my goal of becoming the manager. He isn’t insensitive. He just wants the best for me, and there is no doubt in his mind that Michael being gone will make my life so much better, as well as his own by association.
That explains all the effort he has gone to tonight. The cooking. The table setting. The bottle of champagne he is now taking out of the fridge and preparing to open. As far as he knows, I am as happy as he is. He has no idea that instead of feeling excited and optimistic about the future, I am actually feeling fearful and paranoid about it.
I killed a man. It was an accident, but I killed him.
And now I’m supposed to sip champagne and toast to my happiness?
I’m not sure it’s going to be that easy.
The cork pops loudly, and Evan wastes no time in getting a glass of fizz in my hand before telling me that dinner will be served in ten minutes and that I am not to try to help him because he has everything under control. I take my drink and accept his invitation to go and sit down in the lounge until he is ready for me, and it’s a relief to have a minute to myself when I do.
It looks like my husband has gone to a lot of effort tonight, and I do appreciate it, but if I were to be honest, this is the last thing I want to be doing after recent events. My head is still spinning after what happened with Michael, and I’m feeling drained after dealing with all the drama in the office today. A quiet night would have been perfect, but Evan has other ideas, and I can hardly say I’m not interested. I’ll have to sit at the table and sip m
y champagne while eating the meal he has made me and making conversation about what my new job title really means. But before he can get too excited about me being the boss and what that might entail, I will be prudent and tell him that nothing has been finalised yet. I am acting general manager, not the general manager, and that will be the case until I go to New York and sit down with my new boss. But while it is wise to be sensible and not get too carried away, I do see my trip to the States as just being a formality. I am the next in line to take Michael’s job, and now I have been handed it on a temporary basis, there is no reason to think that it won’t become permanent once I have returned from America.
That means all of this has been worth it, even though I never intended to harm Michael, physically at least. All the years of hard work. All the sacrifices I have made. And all the promises I made to my dear dad about how I would never let him down in his grand vision for my career.
I guess we have come full circle. Dad was the boss, and now I am too. Perhaps it was fate, or maybe it was some kind of luck, good or bad, it remains to be seen. Whatever it is that has led to me being in this moment right here, one thing is for sure. I am glad I no longer have to lie to my father and pretend that I already am the manager.
Now it is the truth.
I am the boss, just like he was.
I think about not making a big deal of this news, but as I sit here and sip my champagne, another thought comes to me, and it is one that gives me the idea to perhaps not downplay my achievement and instead celebrate it like it truly deserves to be celebrated. It’s the thought of Michael laughing at me every time he gave me a mountain of work on a Friday night that needed completing by Monday morning. It’s the thought of him smirking when he told me that Helen had been fired as punishment for what I had tried to do to him. And it’s the thought of him grabbing my arms and pinning me back against that wall last night as he tried to wrestle my phone from me to save his reputation while no doubt believing that he had won again and there was nothing I could do about it.