How To Throw Your Life Away

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How To Throw Your Life Away Page 5

by Laurie Ellingham


  Smarmy Martin from HR with his tight suits and knowing smirks. Yes, he has access to all of their personal details, like the real reason Kevin had taken three extra days off after his holiday in Ibiza (genital crabs were not just for teenagers), but was that a reason to wear trousers so tight that everyone in the office could see the outline of his penis?

  Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. There. She’d tried the stupid counting thing and it had done nothing to unwind the bubbling tension snaking its way around her body and her mind.

  Katy focused her vision back on Martin and Annalisa. All of a sudden she wished she had someone sat next to her.

  ‘I’m not upset,’ Katy said.

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Annalisa smiled. ‘Sometimes things like this are a blessing in disguise.’ Annalisa’s sticky red lipstick smudged and cracked as she smiled, leaving a red smear on one of her front teeth.

  ‘What I meant was, I’m not upset. I’m royally pissed off. You can’t do this to me.’

  ‘I know this must be a shock,’ Martin said, ‘but I’m sure you’re aware that we have had the consultants in on the third floor now for several months, looking at ways we can streamline the business, and the decision came down to us on Friday afternoon. The consensus is that there is no longer a need for two Account Managers.’

  ‘But you can’t make the Account Managers redundant. What about the clients? I have five accounts. Kevin has three. You cannot seriously expect the design guys to take on the day-to-day running of the clients on top of their usual work.’

  ‘Sorry Katy, I wasn’t clear. We’re not going to ask the design team to take on your work. We had a meeting on Friday with Kevin, and another again yesterday, and we all believe one Account Manager is capable of managing all of the clients.’

  ‘Oh.’ Heat burnt her cheeks. ‘So it’s not the team you’re getting rid of, it’s me. The Account Manager with the most experience. After seven years of loyalty, you are choosing to let me go.’ A scream began to form inside her, whipping around her vocal chords like a tornado fighting to be set free.

  ‘Why not Kev?’ she asked, her voice growing louder. ‘He is the more junior Account Manager. Not only that, but it was me who trained him. ME.’

  Martin glanced at Annalisa. A look passed between them.

  ‘In a redundancy situation like this,’ she began, ‘where we have two very good employees and only one role, your line managers and HR use past performance reviews and feedback from clients to determine who will be best positioned to stay.’

  ‘Right,’ Katy nodded, blinking whites spots away from her vision. She didn’t recognise the high pitched tone of her own voice. ‘So why am I not staying, then? What does Kev have that I don’t?’

  Martin pulled at his shirt collar as his gaze dropped to his notebook. ‘I’m sorry Katy, this isn’t easy for any of us.’

  ‘Tell me,’ she said, grinding her teeth together.

  ‘Based on your last few performance reviews, which were excellent by the way, it was felt that Kevin had more of a go-getter attitude. He is just a bit more aggressive when it comes to getting things done, which is a quality the clients seems to respond very well too.’

  Katy closed her eyes, powerless to stop the white blotches from crowding her sight.

  One...Two....Katy tried again to count, but she could not slow down the rapid inhales and exhales of her lungs as they tried to catch up with the pace of her heart.

  ‘So what happens now?’ she asked.

  ‘We have some documents for you to read through and sign,’ Martin said. ‘Annalisa is here for as long as you need, and she’ll go through any questions you have about the redundancy package we are offering. When you are ready, and have signed the redundancy contract, I will escort you out of the building.’

  ‘What about my things? I have personal items in my desk. I need to collect them,’ Katy said. Even through the fog circling her head, an image of the foot deodorant hidden under some files at the bottom of her desk drawer sprang to the front of her mind. She’d rather not leave it for Kev to find.

  ‘Someone is clearing your desk for you now. They’ll leave it at reception for you to collect on your way out.’

  Katy’s cheeks glowed. In addition to being booted out of her job, she would now be the centre of some stupid smelly foot joke told down the pub on Friday’s after work.

  Annalisa pulled out a stack of documents from a folder next to her chair. ‘If you can start with this one,’ she said, sliding some paper towards Katy, ‘and then sign in the places I’ve marked with an orange tab.’

  ‘Right,’ Katy nodded. What was happening to her life?

  The words on the pages in front of her blurred. The more she tried to make sense of everything, the harder it became to think at all.

  ***

  ‘Here we are then,’ Martin said, handing a brown cardboard box to Katy before pressing the call button for the lift, and walking away with a quick wave. ‘Good luck for the future,’ he called, without turning around.

  Katy stared at the contents of the box. One silver photo frame, with a photograph from her 6th form leavers disco. She had her arm around Claire and they were both sticking their tongues out at the camera. Claire had given it to her the Christmas before last as a reminder of ‘the good old days,’ as she’d called them.

  The only other two items in the box were foot deodorant and a pink mug with a chipped edge that she’d never seen before.

  Katy plucked the photo frame out of the box and slipped it into her bag.

  Seven years of her life reduced to foot deodorant and a mug that wasn’t even hers. How dare they.

  She hadn’t changed her job every two years to climb the career ladder like everyone else. Was she the only person in the universe who thought that loyalty meant something? That security was more important than fulfillment?

  A heaviness crept up her back and gripped her shoulders like an invisible beast willing her to do something.

  How dare they do this to her. How dare they treat her this way.

  Her heart began to thunder like the hooves of a dozen race horses pounding along the track on their way to victory.

  Katy looked down at the cardboard box in her hands.

  In a single instant it seemed as if the temperature around her had cranked up to tropical, causing a sheen of sweat to prickle her skin.

  She turned her gaze to the reception area. The enormous glass vase full of long white lilies. The plump leather sofa. The long glass coffee table with the advertising trade magazines on it that nobody in the office bothered to read. The water cooler with the full fifteen litre bottle of water sat on top.

  She could hear her own short loud pants for air and felt the strange sensation of floating upwards as the white spots bunched in front of her eyes.

  With a growing sense of horror, Katy found herself swinging the box back behind her in a low arch.

  How dare they.

  She let the momentum of the swing carry the box forward, releasing her grip on the handle at just the right angle for it to fly through the air and crash into the vase. It toppled to the floor with the unmistakable sound of glass smashing.

  Katy only just registered the low hum of the lift doors as they pulled open.

  Her eyes darted to the vacant waiting lift, and then back to the coffee table and the water cooler. In that moment of indecision, reality crashed back down into her and she dived into the lift, jabbing the green G button over and over as the doors crept to a close.

  CHAPTER 6

  Katy slumped onto a backless cement bench and gulped in the hot city air. Each breath longer and deeper as her heartbeat slowed and a shivering took over her body.

  What had just happened?

  In less than a week she’d managed to destroy her relationship with Adam, and along with it all hopes of marriage and babies, and she’d been made redundant from a place she’d worked at eight hours a day, five days a week for the past seven years.

  And the
n there was the tiny matter of her outburst to consider. She imagined the twenty-something receptionist crouching in her mini-skirt to sweep up the million shards of glass.

  It seemed clobbering Adam over the head with the TV remote was more than a one-off moment of insanity. She really had thrown her life away now. Not only had she lost her job, but she’d destroyed any chance of getting a good reference too.

  Pulling open her handbag, Katy rummaged inside for her purse. She needed a cup of tea. She needed a new life and probably a lobotomy, but tea and a chocolate bar would have to suffice.

  Just then her mobile sounded the familiar beep of an incoming text. Katy pulled her phone out of her bag and slid her index finger across the screen. It was Claire.

  Help!!! Archie and Ruby both at home with sickness bug. I’ve been puked on three times this morning already. Both now asleep on sofa, on me, The Wiggles is on repeat and I can’t reach the remote. Need a wee, a shower and cheering up!! X

  Katy’s fingers tapped over the screen. Poor Archie and Ruby. Are they OK? You will need to find another friend to cheer you up, I’ve just been made redundant!

  Claire: Nooo! How? When? Why?

  Claire: p.s. what other friends? xxxxxxx

  Katy: They chose Kev over me 

  Claire: They can’t do that!

  Katy: They just did

  Katy: AND I just flipped out and trashed the reception area - I need help!!!!!

  Claire: OMG I think I like Krazy Katy better!

  Katy: What do I do now????

  Claire: Become a gardener. I’ll pay you.

  Katy: What? I’ve been doing your garden for free all these years when I could have been getting paid?

  Claire: Yep  x

  Claire: Seriously though you hated your job!

  Before Katy could reply another message pinged through. This time from Adam.

  Are you home for dinner? I’m at the supermarket getting stuff. I’ll cook X

  Adam at the shops? Adam cooking dinner? What did it all mean?

  Another message popped up on her screen:

  Claire: Still there? I’d invite you over here but we’re in quarantine x

  Katy tapped a reply to Claire: Adam has just text me. He’s cooking dinner again tonight.

  Claire: Who? Not your Adam?

  Claire: Go. You need to talk. Stop chickening out. I’ve been spying on my new neighbour. No signs of a girlfriend.

  Katy: Do I have to go to some random house party? It’s my birthday remember!! Plus I’m a liability. I might trash the place.

  Claire: No good. We’re going. Ah! Kids moving. Better grab a bucket   x

  Katy sensed the sudden change around her and looked up from her phone. Lunch time. Like ants pouring from a nest, the street had filled with men and women in search of food and natural daylight.

  Katy tapped a quick response to Adam. Back 7ish. Thanks

  Even their texts felt awkward. Was she supposed to sign off with a ‘x’ like she’d done with every other text she’d ever sent him? Should she tell him about her job?

  Before Katy could think anymore about Adam she heard someone call her name from across the road. A long bendy red bus pushed through the traffic and blocked her view.

  Katy jumped up from the seat and started walking, keeping her head down as she weaved in and out of office workers rushing and groups of meandering tourists. There was no way she was waiting around to have a faux-sympathy, gossip digging, chat with someone from the office.

  She didn’t look up again until the empty train rocked out of London and back into the countryside. Katy chomped on an extra large chocolate bar in between mouthfuls of scolding hot tea and stared out of the window.

  It felt wrong to be going home in the middle of the day. Everything felt wrong. First her relationship with Adam, and now her job. Katy rested her forehead on the cool glass of the window and tried to think of a way through the mess, but the only image bouncing around her thoughts was of Tom Pierce and his ‘told you so’ grin.

  .

  CHAPTER 7

  Mellow vocals and the unmistakable soft guitar strums of Jack Johnson greeted Katy as she stepped through the front door.

  The acoustics enveloped her in memories of the early days in her relationship with Adam. Like the smell of cut grass evoking thoughts of long summers spent climbing trees and swinging on swings for hours at a time. Or the taste of Bacardi and memories of bright blue eye shadow, mini-skirts, and using double-sided tape from her dad’s tool box to keep the boob tube in place before a night out. Holding Claire’s hair back whilst she threw up in next door’s bushes in the early hours of the morning.

  Jack Johnson did not evoke one particular memory, just a feeling of once being happy together, of laughing and intimacy.

  ‘Do you remember the Jack Johnson concert we went to in Hyde Park?’ Adam asked, pouring two glasses of red wine as she stepped into the kitchen.

  Katy nodded.

  Maybe that’s why she’d kept it deselected from the music library on her phone for so long. The cheerful melodies a stark reminder of something now lost between them.

  ‘It was so bloody cold we wrapped the picnic blanket around ourselves and swigged champagne straight from the bottle,’ Adam said.

  ‘Seems like a long time ago.’

  ‘I think it’s one of my happiest memories,’ he added, smiling at Katy and passing her a wine glass before turning towards the oven. ‘Dinner in five minutes.’

  ‘Me too,’ she whispered, more to herself than to Adam. She stared at the deep red liquid before sliding the glass onto the table. Red wine gave her headaches. Had he forgotten?

  A rush of hot air blew through the kitchen as Adam lifted a large casserole pot out of the oven. The smell of garlic, tomatoes and herbs filled the room.

  How many dark winter nights had she spent, head down against the sleet, traipsing up the hill from the station wishing that this was the scene that awaited her?

  ‘I hope you like it. It’s supposed to be coq a vin, but I’m pretty sure it’s just chicken and vegetables and a whole lot of garlic.’

  ‘Oh I forgot the candle,’ Adam added, glancing at the table. ‘It’s in the living room, I’ll just be a-’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ she cut in, already jumping up and heading for the kitchen door.

  ‘Katy, hang on-’

  Katy stepped into the plain white walled living room and stopped. She didn’t reach for candle gathering dust on the mantel piece. Instead her eyes were drawn to the glass television unit in the corner of the room, and the empty space where their television used to sit.

  ‘Adam?’ Katy called, already spinning around and moving back to the kitchen, ‘where is the television?’

  ‘Er..I got rid of it,’ he said without looking up from the casserole pot.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought you’d be happy.’

  ‘Very funny, Adam. Where have you put it?’

  ‘Seriously, it’s gone.’ He picked up his glass with one hand and scooped a stray strand of hair away from his forehead with the other. ‘I sold it at one of those cash for crap stores.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, his eyes looking past her before dropping to the floor. ‘I thought it was what you wanted. I thought you’d be happy if I wasn’t sat in front of the telly all the time.’

  A slow realisation wound its way around her. He’d sold the television. He’d gone to the supermarket. Katy cast her eyes through the kitchen door to the hallway. The carpet had the familiar scuffs of having just been vacuumed. He’d cleaned.

  A numbness spread over her chest and up to her head. A scream caught in her throat. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream at Adam for only just getting it, or at herself for wishing that he hadn’t.

  ‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? This?’ he said, gesturing his hand around the kitchen.

  ‘I...I guess. It’s just a surprise. Last week you couldn’t even put a pl
ate in the dishwasher, and now...’ Katy’s voice trailed off. She didn’t want to fight. Not now. Not with Jack Johnson playing. Not after what had happened with the vase. She didn’t trust herself anymore.

  ‘What happened to us?’ she asked instead, her eyes searching his face.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Adam smiled, pulling off the oven gloves and stepping towards her.

  His arms touched her waist. He took a step forward and pulled her close to him. Adam ran his large hands down her back, teasing his fingers at the hem of her top until he found her skin.

  His touch felt so normal. So familiar. So suffocating.

  ‘Please don’t pretend you don’t know,’ she pushed away from his embrace and took a step back. ‘We used to have something more than this. I mean, I hit you over the head with the remote. I was arrested. Melissa what’s-her-face told us that I had a problem. I’m in anger management. None of that is normal.’

  ‘I know. I know.’ Adam held up his hands as if surrendering. ‘I thought if I made some effort tonight we could get back on track. I’m not saying you were right to do what you did on Saturday, but it made me realise something. Let me serve the dinner up before it gets cold and we can talk.’

  Katy stared at him for a moment longer. Adam was doing all of the right things and saying all of the right things, so why did it all feel so wrong?

  ‘Come on Katy. Eat some dinner and talk to me,’ Adam said, taking her arm and guiding her towards the table.’

  She said nothing, but allowed him to pull out a chair for her to sit in.

  ‘It smells good,’ she said, her stomach rumbling its agreement.

  Adam placed two steaming plates of chicken in a rich red sauce in front of them and sat down.

  ‘Thank you,’ Katy said, before lifting a mouthful of food to her mouth, her eyes widening as her taste buds reacted to the flavour. Like swallowing a mouth full of warm sea water at the beach, the taste of salt flooded her mouth.

  She reached for her wine glass, washing the contents down with two long gulps and feeling an instant headache form behind her eyes.

  ‘Shheeesh,’ Adam cried, repeating Katy’s actions and knocking back the remainder of wine in his glass. ‘I don’t know what happened.’

 

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