by Ber Carroll
‘You must think I’m selfish not to let him stay in my own place,’ Amy continued, ‘but he’d drag me down, Katie – I’d be back on the drugs within a week. And he’s dirty. I know my flat is nothing special, but at least it’s clean. And if everything around me is clean, then I stay clean too.’
Katie listened and nodded and did her best to be supportive.
‘I’d better get back,’ Amy sighed when her coffee cup was empty. ‘Otherwise, he will have reason to fire me.’
Katie paid the waitress and agreed with her, once again, that the weather was miserable. Outside, taxis were scarce. Amy spotted one letting off a passenger up the street and waved madly to get the driver’s attention.
‘I’ll be in touch when the Labour Court sets the date for the hearing,’ said Katie as Amy sank into the back seat.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to get in?’ she asked. ‘I could go to the city first and drop you off.’
‘It would only make you later than you already are,’ Katie replied. ‘Here, it’s on me.’ She put the taxi fare into Amy’s hand.
She waited on in the steady drizzle for a second taxi. Twenty minutes later, soaked through, she gave up and started the long walk back to the city. With every step in her sodden shoes, she became more and more determined that Amy would get her father’s rent money.
The next day was just as wet, and Katie accessorised for the weather with a large golf umbrella. She felt despondent as she negotiated her way past other umbrella-bearing pedestrians on the way to work. Jim still hadn’t called. Nor had he sent a message. She knew he was busy, but how long did it take to say a quick hello?
It was a quiet day at the clinic, the rain always seemed to have that effect, but it gave them a chance to catch up on the filing and other outstanding paperwork. At morning tea, Mary arrived down from reception with some home-made scones.
‘I always eat like a horse when I’m depressed,’ said Sarah, putting a thick gooey layer of strawberry jam on her scone. ‘Ben and I had another big row last night.’
‘Not again!’ Mags threw her eyes to heaven.
‘That’s what I said too – when I calmed down.’ Sarah bit into her scone. When she had chewed her first mouthful she added, ‘We’ve split up so many times that everyone thinks it’s a big joke, but it’s not funny to me. I’m crying my eyes out every second week, it’s like being on an emotional roller-coaster. So I’ve told him that this is it, it’s over and I don’t want to see or hear from him again.’
There was not a lot any of them could say in response because she was right: they had all thought of it as a joke. Yet Sarah was obviously hurting; Katie felt insensitive for not picking up how upset she really was.
They ate silently until Mary asked, ‘How’s your young man, Mags?’
‘Fine,’ was the offhand reply. ‘He’s a bit preoccupied – there’s some tax deadline coming up. Don’t ask me what, I tune out when he talks about work.’
Katie had missed Seamus at the pub these last few weeks. She had assumed that the DUI charge was the reason, but it sounded like work also had something to do with it.
Mary turned her attention to Katie. ‘And how about you? Anyone special on the scene?’
But Mags butted in before Katie could respond. ‘Anyone for another cup of tea?’ She had an odd expression on her face, as if she was well aware that her question would cause everyone to realise they should be getting back to work.
Katie sat down on her end of the desk, simmering. She needed to have it out with Mags, this Jim and Laura thing.
Katie ordered pizza that night and checked her email while she waited for the delivery. There was still no message from Jim. An old familiar anxiety, which had been threatening all day, tightened the muscles of her stomach. The kind of feeling she used to get when Geoff was late home and she knew he had betrayed her trust.
As she stared at the ominously empty inbox, a new message came in.
From: Angela Bardman
Subject: Conference call
Katie double-clicked to read the content.
Brent Lavell will be addressing the group at 7 am AEST today. Apologies to all for the short notice but please make your best efforts to be present. Phone number and access code are detailed below.
The pizza arrived. It was cold, bland and tasted like cardboard. But maybe the pizza was perfectly okay and the problem was with her. She had lost interest in food for weeks after she had broken up with Geoff. Maybe her taste buds were telling her that the same thing was about to happen with Jim.
Chapter 26
At two minutes to ten, Katie dialled the conference number and announced her name.
‘Katie!’ Isabelle was already on the line. ‘How are you? I keep meaning to drop you a line but I’ve been so busy.’
‘I’m great,’ Katie lied and was instantly amazed at how believable she sounded. ‘And how are you?’
‘Fabulous,’ was the unqualified response. ‘I love the job and I’ve met this man! Oh, he’s wonderful, just wonderful!’
‘Does that mean you might be staying on in Madrid?’ asked Katie.
‘Maybe,’ Isabelle replied coyly, ‘but don’t say a word, okay? How about you? Any man in your life?’
It was the perfect opening for Katie to tell her about Jim. She hesitated only because she wasn’t sure if there was anything to mention any more.
She forced a laugh. ‘No, all’s quiet on that front.’
Oliver was next to come on the line and there was only time for a quick hello before Brent and Angela announced their names.
Angela did a roll call.
‘We’re waiting on David, Carole and Jim. I expect Carole and Jim will be together.’
Her prediction was true. Five minutes later the line beeped and Jim’s voice said, ‘Jim and Carole here. Sorry we’re late.’
Katie squeezed her eyes shut but couldn’t stop the image of Carole’s blonde head next to Jim’s as they shared the speaker phone. They had been holed up in Auckland together for three weeks now, and it made Katie’s time with him seem paltry in comparison. Her jealousy gathered momentum, and it was all she could do not to yell down the phone, ‘It’s Jim and Katie! We’re the couple, not Jim and Carole.’
‘It looks like we’ll have to go ahead without David,’ said Angela. ‘He must not have seen the message. Now, I did intend to have a conference call later on this week just to see how everyone was doing. But there have been some changes in MFJ and we brought the call forward so Brent could update you . . .’
Brent cleared his throat, the horrible phlegmy sound magnified by the speaker.
‘I want to take this opportunity to announce my resignation as managing partner of MFJ. After five years, it’s time for me to move way and give someone else a chance at the helm.’
Katie was shocked and, from the silence on the line, everyone else was too. It didn’t ring true. Brent simply wasn’t the type to ‘give someone else a chance’. There had to be another reason.
‘Who’s the new managing partner?’ she asked.
‘Neil Gatwood.’
The dynamics of the High Potential programme changed irrevocably with his answer. Those who had formed allegiance with Brent realised that they had wasted their time, and Katie, Neil’s protégée, became the front runner. One of the three partnerships was hers for the taking. She should have felt happy.
‘Are you staying on in the firm, Brent?’ asked Carole.
‘No,’ was his reply. ‘I don’t want to shadow Neil – he deserves the chance to make his mark. I’ll be moving across to mainstream commerce. In fact, I’m talking to a major conglomerate at the moment.’
It seemed that Brent had resigned without a firm job offer from the ‘major conglomerate’. Katie was even more certain that there was something else behind his resignation.
‘Does your departure mean that there’s an extra partnership available for the High Potential team?’ asked Oliver.
Brent gave a nasty laugh.
‘No free rides, mate. There are still only three partnerships on offer to this group.’
Oliver had asked a valid question and there was really no need for Brent to imply that he was looking for a free ride. Katie was glad that Brent was going. She only wished that Neil, ally or not, was going too. His obsession with control would not make him a good managing partner.
Brent signed off shortly afterwards and Angela stayed on the line to do a quick check on how everyone was. Oliver had earned the respect of his co-workers and was now enjoying New York as much as his wife. Isabelle was as enthusiastic as ever about Madrid. Jim said that the negotiations in Auckland were the toughest of his career and, with one failed agreement hanging over the parties, it was uphill work to convince them to try again. Carole agreed; however, she said that she was much happier to be in Auckland than Singapore. She didn’t specify why.
‘Katie?’ Angela prompted.
‘The clinic has expanded to a staff of three,’ she replied. ‘I’ve had a number of conciliation conferences and Labour Court hearings. I guess that must mean we’re making a mark.’
‘Who’s paying for it all?’ asked Carole in a disparaging tone of voice. ‘It must cost a fortune to have three of you there.’
Katie saw red. ‘It’s not about the money – although that may be hard for you to understand –’
Angela cut in smoothly. ‘Thanks, everyone. Now, some good news. It’s been decided that the final residential course will be held in Fiji in December. I’ll provide you with more details when I see you all back in Sydney in a few weeks’ time.’
Katie was too angry to be happy about going to Fiji and she hung up without saying goodbye. She was about to light a cigarette when the phone rang minutes later.
‘Yes,’ she snapped.
‘That was an unnecessary attack on Carole,’ said Jim.
She gritted her teeth. ‘You two are obviously the best of buddies now, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her. She’s rude –’
‘Funny,’ he interrupted, ‘the only person I heard being rude was you.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ Katie said heatedly. ‘She was implying that the work the clinic is doing isn’t worth the cost.’
‘She implied nothing of the sort,’ he said, sounding deadly calm. ‘It’s in Carole’s nature to question, that’s all.’
‘Good for you that you are so well acquainted with her nature,’ Katie shot back.
He sighed. It was an impatient kind of sigh that said he would rather be somewhere else. ‘Look, why don’t I call back another time when you’re in a more receptive mood?’
Part of Katie knew that what he was suggesting made sense. But the stubborn part of her wouldn’t let it go at that.
‘If this is all getting too hard for you, then just say it, Jim.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I left you a message on Sunday –’
‘Christ, Katie,’ now he was angry, ‘so I missed calling you last night. Is that such a crime?’
‘You could have emailed!’ She sounded petulant, even to her own ears.
‘I’m at a critical stage with these negotiations – I have other things on my mind.’
‘Well, I’ll let you get back to them,’ she said tartly and hung up the phone.
Their first argument. Had they been in the same city they could have kissed and made up. Katie could have reached out her hand and said, ‘I’m sorry.’
She knew that she was in the wrong. There was no rule that said Jim had to call or email every day.
If he was here she could have admitted, ‘It’s more to do with Carole than anything. It’s killing me that you two are sharing breakfasts, strategies, in-jokes. Laura may not have been the possessive type, but I am.’
She crawled into bed and fell into a fitful sleep. All night long, the argument replayed over and over without reprieve. It was a relief when her alarm clock called an end to it. She got ready for work, her limbs heavy as she forced them into clothes. She was having her breakfast, a single cup of coffee, when her mobile rang.
Her heart jumped, but it was only Mags.
‘I’ve got a bad flu – I won’t be in today.’
Katie assured her that she and Sarah would be fine on their own.
As if to prove her a liar, it turned out to be a very difficult day. For some reason, all of the queries were complicated and the waiting time got longer and longer. Most clients had a good whinge about how long they had to wait before getting on with their business. One woman, unhappy with the answer to her question, screamed a string of abuse at Sarah. The chaos climaxed when a feverish-looking toddler vomited on the floor.
‘You walking home tonight?’ Katie asked Sarah when the time finally came to turn the key in the clinic door.
‘I’ve got a date.’ Something about Sarah’s blush told Katie that the date wasn’t with Ben. ‘I was going to go home to get ready but, considering the time, I think I should go straight there.’
‘Okay,’ Katie waved her off, ‘have fun.’
She locked the outer door and set off home. Her legs still felt heavy – in fact, she was leaden all over. It seemed that the only way she could lighten her body was to say sorry to Jim. She stopped to get her phone from her bag.
Sorry, she typed.
There, that felt better. But before she could press the SEND button, a shadow fell across her. She looked up to find herself face to face with Jerry. She instinctively took a step backwards. He came further forward, his eyes glittering in his dirty face. As if they were doing some kind of macabre dance, he responded with another step forward each time she took a step back. Nothing was said. Then his arms spread in a wide semicircle and she was trapped. She tried to look past him to see if there was anyone close enough to call for help, but he was taller than her and she could see nothing other than his putrid anorak. She had to make a decision. Stay where she was and let those filthy hands encircle her neck. Or step back over the kerb and into the traffic. He came forward again. It was a shock when he spoke.
‘Sorry,’ he said.
She teetered on the kerb. How ironic that he had uttered the same word that was displayed on her phone. Could he read it from there?
She meant to ask him but she lost her balance. The phone flew from her hand as she fell onto the road and under the oncoming car.
Chapter 27
‘Katie,’ a hand grasped hers, ‘it’s me, Liz. I didn’t think I’d be back in Dublin quite so soon. This was a pretty drastic thing to do to get me back here . . .’
Katie waited for her girlish giggle but was rather surprised to hear a sob. ‘They’ve fixed up your leg. The surgeon said it was broken in a number of places. He seems very good at his job. I think you were lucky that he was the one on call . . .’
I’m in hospital, Katie thought. Yes, I fell in front of that fourwheel drive.
She tried to open her eyes but they were glued shut. Her mouth wouldn’t work either.
‘That was two days ago,’ Liz continued. ‘We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.’
Ah, I’m asleep.
Katie was happy that there was such a simple explanation for her inability to talk or see.
‘This room they’ve put you in is very nice. The girls from your work sent a big bunch of flowers and I put them over by the window. The card says, We miss you. Get well soon, from Mags and Sarah. They wanted to see you but the surgeon said that it’s family only for now. I’ve been staying in your apartment – I hope you don’t mind. It’s just a bed at night – I’m here all throughout the day. I’m not a busybody so don’t worry about me looking through any of your private things . . .’
Katie could see Liz being so very careful with everything in the apartment. It made her want to smile. But, of course, she couldn’t.
Liz talked some more before her voice drifted away and Katie went back to a deeper sleep.
‘Oh, my God, look at her!’
It was Rose. She sounded quite hysterical.
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‘Frankie, look at her! Dear God, help us all . . .’
Mum, you’re here . . . please don’t cry . . . Dad, tell her not to cry!
Katie heard a heaving sound that was quite distinct from Rose’s high-pitched sobs.
What’s that? Dad? No, you can’t be crying too. Oh, please, stop it, the two of you!
Her hand was lifted from the bed and she felt a familiar coldness. ‘Bad circulation,’ Rose used to say about her icy cold hands.
‘You’ll be okay, my love,’ she said now in a broken whisper. ‘We’re here for as long as it takes for . . . for you to get well again.’
‘Here, Rose, a seat for you.’
A chair scraped across the floor and Rose’s grasp loosened a little as she sat down. Frankie must have come around the other side of the bed for Katie felt him take her other hand. His skin was dry and rough, like sandpaper.
Hands are important. Very important. I must remember to appreciate them more when I wake up.
‘Qantas were very good to us, Katie,’ said Rose, her voice more even now. ‘They got us on the first flight out of Sydney . . .We had to change over in Singapore and Heathrow . . .’
Frankie, usually one to leave the talking to his wife, continued on with the details of their journey. ‘Dublin looks so different . . . well, at least from the little we saw from the taxi . . . we came straight here, bags and all . . .’
‘I wonder where Liz is?’ Rose suddenly remembered her sister. ‘She must have gone for a cup of tea . . . we’re a little bit earlier than we expected . . .’
Katie tried hard to open her eyes. She so wanted to be able to see the reunion between Rose and Liz.
‘Did she flutter her eyes just there?’ asked Rose urgently.
‘I didn’t notice,’ said Frankie.
I did, Katie thought in frustration. I did flutter them – but they won’t open.
‘She did it again,’ said Rose.