‘What? The four absolutely enormous objections?’
‘The only barriers in your way are the ones you put up for yourself.’ Ben frowned. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
I smiled. ‘That’s the exact phrase Callum used in the hospital yesterday. Apparently, it’s the phrase that Shannon lives by.’
‘It’s a sign! Alleluia!’
Ben was saved from having anything else thrown at him by my phone ringing.
‘Hi, Callum!’ I said.
‘How soon can you get here? Shannon’s taken a bad turn.’
Ben pulled up at the entrance to Jimmy’s. ‘You go to her. I’ll park and find you later.’
I leapt out of the car and power-walked to the ICU. As soon as I entered the waiting room, I spotted Callum slumped in a plastic chair, pale-faced. A cold chill crept over my body. I was too late. My feet felt as though they were rooted to the spot.
Callum looked up. ‘Clare!’
‘Is she...?’
He ran his hand across his stubbly chin. ‘She’s critical… infection from one of the lines… don’t really know… couldn’t take it in.’ His speech was slurred and he appeared to be struggling to focus his eyes on me.
‘Callum? Are you all right? Callum? Shit! Nurse! Help!’ I tried to catch him as he fell towards the floor, but he was too heavy. ‘HELP!’
Ben put his arm around me as we walked back to his car a little after eight that evening. ‘They’ll both pull through. The doctor said so. Callum’s had a successful op and Shannon’s over the worst.’
I relaxed against him, grateful for both the physical and emotional support. ‘I know. It was just a hell of a shock. Hadn’t they both suffered enough already?’
Callum’s appendix had ruptured, or burst, or whatever it is they do, so he’d been rushed to have that removed while another team of doctors fought to stabilise Shannon. It had been a terrifying day. I sighed. ‘It makes one decision for me, though. I’m definitely going to look after Luke.’
Ben squeezed my shoulder. ‘But you’d already decided that, hadn’t you?’
Chapter 24
* From Elise
Is everything OK? I’ve tried to call several times but it goes straight to voicemail. Getting worried. Hope all’s well with Shannon and Luke xx
* From Sarah
Where are you? You didn’t call on Friday so I’ve been texting and calling you but no response. Hope you’re OK. Can you call me? xx
* To Elise and Sarah
Really sorry. Phone’s been off. Been at Jimmy’s. Shannon took a bad turn, then Callum collapsed with appendicitis, but they’re both over the worst. Traumatic couple of days. On my way back from Northampton with all their belongings. They were meant to be moving into a rented house when they got back from Gretna Green. Eejit landlord’s given it to someone else and their foster places have been filled so, on top of all the other bollocks, they’re homeless! Also got Luke’s cot, buggy and a pile of other baby crap cos he’s going to be staying with me. Don’t ask! Not worked it out yet. Promise I’ll call for a catch-up soon, but got lots to sort out. Off to London 2moro. Not sure my boss is going to appreciate the immediate ‘maternity’ leave request but will worry about that tomorrow! Hope you’re both OK xx
* From Sarah
OMG! Let me know if you need any help with anything. Keep me posted xx
* From Elise
Stevie and I are on our way to Leeds. Sounds like you’re going to need help unpacking and putting up a cot. He’s just made Bean’s so he’s pretty useful. We’ve packed the tools! Text me your postcode xx
‘Why do you keep looking backwards?’ Ben asked, as we headed up the M1 towards Leeds shortly after lunch on the Sunday.
I twisted back around in my seat to face forward. ‘My last experience of moving was when I relocated to Leeds. My stuff filled a small lorry. It just seems a bit sad that there are three of them and their stuff doesn’t even fill a Transit van.’
‘It’s a big van, though,’ Ben said. ‘Bear in mind that you had some furniture and they don’t. And you’ve had twice as long to accumulate stuff. How much did you have when you were their age?’
I pictured the two suitcases and a couple of boxes in Ma and Da’s lounge, ready to be banished with me. ‘Not much.’
We travelled in silence for 10 minutes or so.
‘The Hendersons seemed like nice people,’ Ben said.
I nodded.
‘It was good of them to store Shannon and Luke’s things for them.’
I nodded again.
‘Come on. Out with it,’ he said.
‘Out with what?’
‘When you’re quiet like this, it means something’s bothering you. What is it?’
I folded my arms. ‘It’s not fair.’
‘What’s not?’
‘That eejit landlord evicting them like that.’
‘Hey! We’ve been through this already. He was a friend of the Hendersons, and Callum explicitly instructed him to rent it out to someone else. Callum doesn’t know when they’ll be out of hospital and there’s no point him paying rent while he isn’t working. You heard what Mrs Henderson said. She offered to pay the rent, but Callum refused. He said he didn’t want to be worried about mounting debts or letting anyone down. It was his choice, Clare. His choice. Besides, you can’t evict someone who hasn’t even moved in. They haven’t lost any money. They’ve got their deposit back. So uncross your arms and feed me some wine gums. Not green ones, though.’
I pushed a green one into his mouth and he grimaced. ‘You’re a mean girl, Irish. Very mean.’
‘Yeah, but you still love me, so you do.’
He glanced across at me briefly. ‘If you say so.’
Elise and Stevie were already waiting on the pavement outside Orion Point when Ben pulled up right outside the entrance and put on the hazards.
‘I’m not going to be much help lifting and carrying,’ Elise said, ‘but I can keep everyone in drinks.’
‘All help is appreciated. Thank you, both of you.’
‘What floor are you on?’ Stevie asked.
‘The 14th.’
‘Please tell me there are lifts and that they work.’
I laughed. ‘Thankfully, yes, although they’re not very big so we’ll have to do several trips.’
Elise held doors open while we filled the lift with the first load, then Elise and I travelled up together while Ben and Stevie emptied the van. I left Elise in the apartment in charge of drinks and travelled back down for the next load.
‘Surprise!’ The lift doors opened to reveal Sarah and Nick.
‘Jesus! You scared me! What are you two doing here?’
‘We figured you might need some help, but it looks like someone beat us to it.’
‘The more the merrier,’ I said, trying to ignore the slight edge to her voice. ‘Thank you. It means a lot.’
Sarah put her arms out. ‘I know you don’t do hugs often, but I’m thinking now might be a good time for one.’
I nodded, tears suddenly pricking my eyes. ‘It’s been a shitty few days.’
‘I bet it has,’ she said.
‘Excuse me!’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Any chance of getting to the lift?’
I let go of Sarah and wiped my eyes. ‘Sorry.’ I stepped aside. ‘We’re just moving some stuff in.’
‘So I see.’ The woman was in her mid-to-late 40s, immaculately dressed from head to toe in winter-white Ralph Lauren. Her glossy, black hair was pulled back into a chignon, and a slash of raspberry across her lips matched the raspberry-coloured Mulberry bag she carried. Wow! I’d always thought I was stylish, but I looked like something out of the Matalan sale next to her. Actually, in my present house-moving gear of jeans and an old t-shirt, I probably looked like something from a jumble sale
.
‘I’m Clare, 14th floor. I think you might live above me.’
She looked me up and down, and I swear her lip curled in disgust. Without offering her name in return, she looked pointedly in the direction of the flatpack cot resting against the wall. ‘You rent from Daryl Smithers, don’t you?’
I nodded. ‘How did you know?’
‘Daryl’s a friend of mine. A good friend.’ She stepped into the lift and gave me a frosty stare. ‘I trust the cot is a gift and you’re not about to move a baby into the building, because I do believe that would be a breach of your rental conditions?’
Holy crap! ‘Of course. Just a gift.’
‘I thought so.’ The lift door closed.
Sarah whistled. ‘Delightful neighbour you’ve got there.’
‘And a hideous problem I’ve got now.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘My lease strictly states “no pets and no children”.’
‘Oh. What are you going to do?’
‘Move Luke in and hope he turns invisible and never cries. Yeah, I know. I’d better start packing because I’m about to be evicted.’
Ben dumped a couple of suitcases next to me. ‘You’re not still angry at Shannon’s landlord, are you? He didn’t evict them.’
‘I know. I was just telling Sarah about it, though.’
Ben pointed towards the pile of belongings in the lobby. ‘That’s everything except Callum’s bike, which I’ll store in my shed, so I’m going to move the van. Stevie and Nick are moving their cars to the visitor spaces.’
‘Okay.’
‘Why didn’t you tell him about that woman?’ Sarah said, as soon as the door had closed.
‘Because I know him too well. If he gets wind of me being kicked out, what will he do?’
‘Offer you his spare room again?’
‘Exactly. Only, it wouldn’t just be me this time, would it? It would hardly be fair to lumber him with a newborn baby too. I’ll just have to find somewhere else to live. If Frosty Knickers grasses on me, that is. I may be able to get away with it.’
Sarah smiled reassuringly, but I knew that she knew Frosty Knickers was going to have her eye on me and would be running straight to Daryl the minute she got so much as a sniff of a dirty nappy. Bollocks!
I’m one of those annoying people who don’t get nervous. I thrive on the pressure of deadlines, challenging targets, important presentations, difficult customers and awkward negotiations. Yet I found myself actually trembling the following morning as I slowly made my way down the corridor of our London HQ to meet with Paul and our HR Manager, Sabina. I felt exactly the same way as when I’d confronted Da, which was ridiculous, as I’d always had a good relationship with Paul. Some of my colleagues found him difficult, describing him as a ‘control freak’, ‘awkward bastard’ and ‘bully’, but I loved his direct, straight-talking, no-nonsense approach. He rewarded loyalty and he was financially generous towards those who, like me, exceeded their targets and added value to the business.
Unfortunately, he was embarrassingly old-school when it came to women and careers. I swear he’d only promoted me because he was certain I’d never settle down and have children. I therefore suspected he’d take my news as an act of disloyalty and treat me with the same contempt he’d shown to my colleagues, although I hoped that the results I’d delivered would have earned me enough brownie points to get the flexibility I needed.
I could hear raised voices as I approached the meeting room. Through the glass panel next to the door, I could see Paul pacing up and down, looking like a bear with a sore head. Sabina kept shaking her head and indicating that he should sit down and, I suspected, calm down. Bollocks! Taking a deep breath and standing tall, I knocked on the door, then entered the lion’s den.
Sabina smiled warmly. ‘Come in, Clare. Take a seat. Would you like some water?’
‘Yes, please.’
Sabina poured me a drink from an iced jug on the table. ‘Paul was just about to take a seat, weren’t you, Paul?’ Her voice was friendly yet firm.
Like a chastised child, Paul pulled out a seat, sat down and glowered at me.
‘Thank you for coming, Clare,’ Sabina said. ‘I understand that you emailed Paul last night asking to change this morning’s monthly review to a discussion about going on maternity leave. Is that correct?’
‘It is.’ I wished Paul would stop glowering at me.
‘And I understand that your request is to start that leave with immediate effect? Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
Sabina smiled. ‘Okay. We’ll explore the details in a moment. Before we do, Paul and I are a little concerned. As employers, we have a duty of care to ensure that all of our employees are safe at work and, for pregnant women, there are procedures we’d normally follow. I’m very conscious that we haven’t been able to follow these because we had no idea you were pregnant, Clare.’
‘Oh. Well, I’m not pregnant.’
Paul’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve already had the baby?’
‘No. My daughter has.’
His eyes widened even further and he leaned forward. ‘So, what the hell are you requesting maternity leave for?’
Sabina stared at Paul and gave a little cough. ‘I think you’d better explain, Clare.’
I tried to stick to the bare facts, but it was still very uncomfortable laying my past out on the table when I’d never opened up to Paul or any of my colleagues about my life before Prime PR.
‘I’m sorry to advise you that you’re not eligible to take maternity leave,’ Sabina said, when I’d finished. ‘That’s only available to mothers who have either given birth or who have adopted a child.’
‘Oh.’ I could have kicked myself for having not even thought to Google maternity rights. Awkward.
Paul pushed his chair back. ‘That’s that, then. No maternity leave. Can we get on with your review now?’
Sabina frowned at him. ‘There are other options we can explore, though. Clare’s facing a unique scenario and, as her employer, we want to try to find a way to support her.’
‘She can take some holiday leave, then. In March. Late March. The next six weeks are pivotal for the new Elatryx product launch.’
‘Late March? I need time off now, Paul. Six weeks’ time won’t work for me.’
‘And right now doesn’t work for Prime. You and your team have loads of work on, and I expect you to deliver. You can’t take maternity leave. Sabina said so. I’ve offered you holidays. I think that’s very reasonable. I’d grab the offer if I were you.’
‘There are other options,’ Sabina insisted. ‘We need to explore them.’
I was still trembling. I had a horrible feeling that this was going to end badly. I tried to keep a friendly tone to my voice as I offered a compromise. ‘I don’t mind working from home for a week or two to finish things off and do a handover.’
‘How’s that going to work?’ Paul demanded. ‘The odd day at home is fine, but it’s not sustainable. What about meeting clients? Are you going to strap the baby to yourself and take him with you? Leave him in the car and hope he doesn’t cry? Dump him—’
‘Paul!’ Sabina snapped, stopping him from digging himself a deeper hole. She turned to me. ‘That sounds like a reasonable compromise and a great starting point. We can explore how practical it is in a moment. Before we do, how long do you think you might need away from work?’
I tried to avoid eye contact with Paul. ‘Hard to say. It depends when Shannon regains consciousness and how much support she’ll be needing. Callum will be off his crutches eventually, but he won’t be able to cope with a baby on his own. Plus, they have nowhere to live. Could be three months, but could be six or more.’
‘Six or more? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!’
I flinched at the volume of Paul’s voice and the
expletive.
‘Paul!’ Sabina cried. Her face was pale and I would have bet my life that, like me, she was trembling. ‘I suggest you remember that this is a place of work and that one of your team has come to us with a very reasonable request. Unexpected? Yes. But she could hardly plan for something like this, and it’s our job to find a way of making this work for both parties. How about we take a break for 10 minutes while everyone calms down, then we can return and discuss the request without the expletives?’
Paul shook his head. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the meeting’s over. She…’ He pointed at me. ‘She needs to think about where her priorities lie. The way I see it, there are two options: holiday or the highway.’
I stared at Paul for a moment in astonishment. To think that I’d once respected and admired him for being a strong and confident leader, who wasn’t afraid to push his team to reach challenging goals. Now, all I could see in front of me was the control freak, awkward bastard, bullying manager my colleagues saw. As if in a film montage, I recalled the snide comments, withering putdowns and public humiliations for failure to meet targets. I recalled the long hours, the no-praise culture, the extensive travel and being forced to go to Ireland when it was clear I didn’t want to. He was just like my da! A feeling of calm swept through me. I smiled, nodded and stood up.
‘What are you grinning at?’ Paul demanded. ‘This isn’t funny. You’ve let me down, Clare. I thought you had it in you to go far. Believe me, it’s the last time I promote a bloody woman.’
Sabina gasped. She opened her mouth to speak but I beat her to it.
‘No, Paul. Not funny. Quite tragic, actually. It’s tragic that you are a prehistoric, misogynistic bully. It’s tragic that I used to look up to and respect you, when you’re really not worthy of that respect. It’s tragic that you think a female has to work 50 times harder than any man to impress you. It’s tragic that you’ll probably walk away from this with no consequences and you’ll take it out on the team I leave behind. The exceptionally talented team, that is, who work their arses off every day and would appreciate a thank-you once in a while.’
‘They get a bonus. That’s their thanks. Ungrateful little—’
Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3) Page 15