Before the Storm

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Before the Storm Page 2

by Morrissey, Di


  Ellie looked away for a second. ‘Actually, I didn’t go anywhere.’

  ‘What? Why not?’ He stared at her. ‘Okay, tell me what’s up.’

  ‘Nothing’s up. Same old, same old.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve travelled plenty, all those IT conferences in exotic places. After what happened, I just went into cave mode.’

  He reached over and touched her hand. ‘Ellie, it’s been a couple of months now. It’s not healthy to sit around moping.’

  ‘I know. I just can’t work up the energy to move forward.’ She realised she sounded a little defensive.

  ‘I get that you’re upset about not having a job, but remember, you walked out. They tried to keep you,’ Mike said.

  ‘Yeah, well, they didn’t try very hard. After they’d undermined me I couldn’t stay there. There was no way I was going to be told what to do by Sophia.’

  Mike nodded. ‘You’re right. I’d have done the same thing in your position.’ He added gently, ‘I just wish I could’ve helped you more. You should have told me what was going on.’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘Don’t feel like that, Mike. I can fight my own battles. I could see that I wasn’t going to win against those guys. I’ve discovered that you can’t fight someone with such hard-nosed ambition that they’re prepared to get what they want at any cost, and Sophia’s the most devious of all of them.’

  A waitress placed coffees in front of them and Ellie wrapped her hands around the warm cup.

  ‘You know Sophia wants to jump up to GM?’ he said. Although Mike now worked at a different IT company as he had been snapped up by a big firm, they still kept in touch and he kept an ear out for gossip.

  ‘Yeah, well, let’s just see if she can get there on her own instead of elbowing everyone else off the ladder on her way to the top.’

  ‘Did you say that to her?’

  ‘Wish I had.’ Ellie laughed, but quickly fell silent and took a sip of her coffee.

  ‘I heard that your team appreciated you calling them all. I bet they miss you.’

  ‘I miss them, too. I feel really sorry for the people who are still there and have to work for her,’ said Ellie. ‘I should have done more for them – I tried to – but it was as if Roger and Sophia built a wall to keep me out as soon as they realised I was serious about leaving.’

  ‘You know corporations are ruthless psychopathic beasts,’ Mike said.

  Ellie smiled. ‘You’re right, but this beast was more like a parasite that sucked up all my energy and left me with nothing.’

  Mike shook his head sadly. ‘Look at how you’ve been working – multiple projects, high pressure, impossible deadlines, budget constraints, keeping your team on track and, as project manager, the buck always stops with you. I know the toll it takes.’

  ‘Are you saying I should be glad I’m out of it? Glad they’ve broken me?’

  ‘Not at all. What I’m saying is that it was completely unfair and there was nothing you could have done about it. You’re a brilliant project manager and you’re completely across your work. Sophia and her circle of acolytes don’t understand the developments we’re making in this industry at all. And who knows what that Roger thinks about anything.’

  ‘What a creep.’ Ellie sighed. ‘At least I don’t have to deal with him anymore, either.’

  ‘You challenged them, Ellie. And good for you! You should feel proud for taking the high moral ground,’ he said, gazing earnestly at her.

  ‘Well, it was either that or a complete breakdown. It’s just hard to swallow that they essentially stole my project,’ she said, looking away. ‘All that work, and for what? I left my job with pretty much nothing to show for it.’ She sat up straight. ‘Note to self – don’t make waves.’

  ‘You know their number one rule: put up, shut up, work longer, harder, faster.’ Mike pushed up his tortoiseshell-framed glasses and stretched out his long jean-clad legs.

  ‘Yeah. And the thing about that is, when you emerge from that bubble you realise you have no life. It’s taken me years to notice. I don’t count office drinks in underground bars talking shop with colleagues I really don’t have anything in common with as the highlight of my social life, but I’ve realised that’s all I did outside of work.’ She looked at Mike and smiled. ‘You were the only person I could talk to. If I’m still sane at all, it’s because of you, Mike.’

  ‘Hey, Ellie. You’re out of it and free of them. But it’s been ages now. You need to find a new focus. You’re a hotshot in IT, you’re creative. And you’re highly organised, good at managing people, a planner and a visionary. Your team adored you. Any big IT company would kill to get you.’ He reached over and put his hand on hers. ‘Of course, if you’d stayed and eventually been made redundant you would have been paid out.’

  ‘Never! That would have been hell. Imagine sitting there having to watch that woman trying to run things and stuffing up. Then they’d have to ask me to fix it – or just blamed me for it. She thinks she knows more than she does.’ Ellie bit her lip. ‘I feel steamrolled. I can’t work up the confidence – or the motivation, I guess – to do anything. I know I have to pull my finger out, but . . .’ She shrugged. ‘Am I whingeing?’

  Mike pulled his hand back and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘Maybe, but you’re allowed to. Now, do you want to eat? I’m starving.’

  Picking up the menu, Ellie studied it for a moment. ‘Let’s try the jalapeño mezcal cocktail: “grilled lime, slices of agave, chilli salt. Mexico’s sister to tequila”.’

  ‘Sure. And what about the blinis, jambon croquettes, mussels . . .’

  ‘Moules marinière, for me, with sourdough on the side.’ She smiled at him. ‘You always cheer me up. I haven’t felt hungry or eaten properly for ages.’

  ‘You’re easy to please.’ They ordered and Ellie started to relax a little, feeling less like an overwound spring.

  Mike and Ellie had met at work and bonded over their interest in new developments in IT and ways to use it to build communities. They had kept in touch and occasionally met for coffee. Sometimes they had dinner or drinks in a favourite wine bar. He was funny, supportive and someone Ellie could talk to easily, though they both avoided talking shop, and Ellie didn’t share too much of her personal angst. She looked up to find Mike giving her a quizzical look.

  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

  ‘Earth to Estelle: I asked, what next?’ He sipped his cocktail. ‘You said on the phone that you’d had a long talk with your mother. I heard her on the radio the other day, by the way, the “expert psychiatrist”. What’s her advice?’

  Ellie paused, then said, ‘I think she’s worried about me. She’s been giving me space, but she won’t let me drag my feet and sit around forever.’

  ‘Neither will I. You’ll be boring company if you don’t do something soon,’ he said briskly, but with a broad smile.

  ‘Mum doesn’t push buttons. She’s supportive but she doesn’t like to prescribe. While everything was falling apart at work, she never once reminded me that she’d said over and over that I was working too hard for too little recognition. You know, she never liked Charlie but she’s never said anything against him or muttered I told you so’s about our divorce.’ Ellie sat back in her chair.

  ‘Maybe, Ellie, but that’s in the past. What’s done is done.’ Mike paused, then asked, ‘What’s your next move? Have you thought that far ahead? You’re only thirty-six. You have to do something and you need to start now.’

  ‘I know.’ She fiddled with the stem of her cocktail glass. Ellie had always thought of herself as being confident and self-assured, but after the circumstances that had seen her lose her job, and worse, the unfair accusation that she had mismanaged her project, she felt as if she’d crumbled. She was back to square one and had no clue what she was going to do about it.

  She glanced at Mike. ‘Why’re you looking at me like that?�
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  ‘For a slick hipster you look like a ragdoll who’s been tossed around by the family dog.’ He grinned. ‘I like it.’

  She ran a hand through her dark brown hair. Normally stylishly scissor-cut by her expensive hairstylist, she’d let it grow out. ‘I don’t have any clients or anyone important to see.’

  ‘So I don’t count?’ He laughed. ‘Well, then, what else did your mother say?’

  ‘Oh yeah. She asked me to drive down south to check on my grandad. Maybe stay with him a while.’

  ‘Is he sick?’ Mike asked.

  ‘No, not as far as I know. Mum thinks he’s lonely, or in a rut and maybe neglecting his health a bit. He still works, even though he must be pushing eighty. He used to be a foreign correspondent for the ABC and he keeps busy running the local paper. I think he has some good mates, but he lives on his own. It’s been eight years since my grandmother died. Mum said he seemed a bit down in the dumps.’

  ‘Has he seen a doctor?’

  ‘Mum told him to see his GP, but Poppy won’t take any advice from her. He says there’s nothing wrong with him, and perhaps he’s right. She asked me to go and visit him and tell him I need a change of scenery – which is the truth, anyway,’ said Ellie, smiling when she saw the concern in Mike’s dark brown eyes. ‘It’s no hardship. I adore my grandfather and the town where he lives, Storm Harbour. It’s a special place down south on the coast. I spent a lot of time there when I was a kid, even went to high school there for a few terms while my parents were overseas. I know Mum wants to put a bit of a rocket under me, too, so perhaps Poppy is fine and she’s come up with this idea to help me.’ She looked down at the meal the waiter had just put in front of her, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

  ‘Maybe,’ Mike said. ‘But visiting your grandad in a sleepy town doesn’t sound like much of a rocket. You’re going?’

  Ellie straightened up and tried to smile. ‘Yes, I’ve decided I will, and I’m looking forward to it, in a way. I haven’t seen him in a while. He came to Melbourne five or six months ago on business, and he stayed the night. It was great to show him around Fitzroy. Storm Harbour’s only four hours away but it’s another world, and I haven’t been there for ages.’

  ‘Well, perhaps getting out of town will help you,’ said Mike quietly.

  ‘Am I in that bad a state?’ Ellie asked, trying to keep her voice light.

  Mike glanced at her and then looked down at his hands. ‘I worry about you. You haven’t been my smart, witty friend for months now, and I miss her. I hate to see the bad guys win out. You did the right thing by leaving, but I just wish you knew how clever and capable you are.’

  Ellie looked up at him, surprised by the serious tone in his voice.

  ‘They treated you badly,’ he added. ‘What happened was not your fault.’ He took a mouthful of food and held his fork in the air. ‘So what’s stopping you from applying for jobs at other companies?’

  Ellie laughed, but she heard the hard edge to it. ‘And get sabotaged again?’

  ‘Listen to yourself, Ellie! My old friend would be giving them the finger and moving on to bigger and better things!’ Mike flung his arms wide, almost knocking over his cocktail glass and Ellie’s with it.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘You can do anything you put your mind to. Do your own thing, if you like. C’mon, Ms Estelle Conlan, move on,’ said Mike. ‘Drink up, let’s order another, and some crab croquettes.’

  Ellie felt her eyes start to sting with tears. ‘You’re such a good friend, Mike.’

  He lifted his cocktail glass in a toast. ‘Here’s to you, Ellie. Welcome back to the real world.’

  As the waiter put down the plate of crispy warm croquettes and bowls of mussels with their fresh drinks, the two were deep in conversation. Talking about ideas and plans was one of the things they both enjoyed. Ellie liked the way Mike was a futuristic thinker who cared about the environment, about shared information, freedom of the press, and always thought about others. And best of all, he could make her laugh and distract her from thinking about the troubles of the last few months.

  *

  They paid the bill and left the café, wandering down the bustling street that was filled with the aromatic drift of cooking food and the sounds of music, laughter and a rattling tram stopping nearby. They strolled past couples arm in arm, a man wheeling his bicycle, a woman walking her dog. The rain had stopped, but everything was still glistening wet.

  ‘So when you get back from Storm Harbour, let’s do this again,’ said Mike.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Ellie realised that she actually was looking forward to seeing him again. It was the first time since leaving her job that she’d felt a spark of happiness.

  Two blocks from her small apartment building, before Mike cut through to his street via a neighbourhood park, he bent down and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Enjoy spending time with your grandad. Wish I still had mine around.’

  Then he waved and she stood and watched as he strode briskly away along the quiet street.

  Walking into her lounge room, Ellie opened the laptop on the small dining table and checked her emails. This was a habit that was hard to break. But there was nothing pressing or even faintly interesting. It occurred to her again that her life was pretty damn empty.

  Her mother blamed the divorce as much as what had happened at work for Ellie’s ‘moods’. But Ellie didn’t agree; it was coming up to two years since the divorce and it had been amicable. She knew that her lifestyle hadn’t helped; she and Charlie had grown in different directions, with different interests and friends. Though perhaps regretful at their impulsiveness in not recognising their incompatibility, neither blamed the other, and both Ellie and Charlie had swiftly moved on. It made life simpler, with no joint commitments and no kids to make arrangements for. He earned good money as a senior officer in a government department – Transport – and while, as Ellie had now learned, she wasn’t paid as much as her male colleagues, she had done okay and had put away a decent nest egg.

  She knew she’d get snapped up if she put herself out into the IT market. But at what cost? Sophia’s deceit had cut deeply. Talking to Mike had made her realise that she’d lost the drive that used to be so much a part of her personality. Instead she’d just been marking time, retreating to her small but smart apartment.

  She sat down on the sofa and thought about what she’d left behind – as she did most nights. Even though the thoughts made her feel tense and sad, she couldn’t stop them coming, almost as if they were on a loop in her mind. Plus, the emptiness of the last couple of months had shown her with more clarity than ever before that functioning under such intense pressure every working day, as she had done, was insane. But even so, she still missed the adrenalin rush.

  Ellie had lost count of the all-nighters she’d pulled at work, the weekends she’d spent there, the 4 am starts to the day. And still, as manager of major IT projects, she’d almost never got through her overcrowded inbox. The pressure to always be ahead of the game, brighter, quicker, smarter than the competition, to problem-solve for clients at a moment’s notice as each new obstacle loomed, had been ever-present.

  During the day her mind had never stopped whirring, even though she’d sometimes felt burnt-out and exhausted. She’d even thought about work ideas in her sleep, her mind spinning through details and scenarios, and she’d made notes on the pad by her bed through the night.

  And then, for all her dedication to the company, Sophia and Roger had pulled the rug out from under her in a single stroke and robbed Ellie of any confidence or trust.

  Ellie shook herself. She’d had a nice time with Mike; why did she keep coming back to these thoughts and let them drag her down? She hoped her trip to visit her grandfather in Storm Harbour would be the change of scene she needed to clear her head.

  *

  The city was a
long way behind her as Ellie turned off the Hamilton Highway.

  For the moment her life was a blank canvas; no commitments, no pressure, she told herself. Just a visit to Poppy. Then she’d really put her head down and tackle the problem of finding a good job. She gave herself a pep talk: she was capable – more than capable – and had well-honed skills in IT and project management that she could apply to any number of fields.

  But her upbeat feeling quickly faded. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten regularly, or even when she’d last cooked. Her dinner with Mike was already a blur. Had it only been a few days ago? It took just the smallest thing to bowl her over these days. Where had her strength gone? Stop beating yourself up, her practical voice whispered, but she felt she could hardly hear it over the cacophony of critical voices that had centre stage.

  She lost track of time as these thoughts went through her head. Driving around a bend, along a country road lined with fields and rows of fruit trees, she suddenly had no idea where she was, where she was going, or how she’d got there. She tried to think straight – the scenery around her was beautiful but it was as if she were in a thick fog.

  She blinked. God, how long had she been driving in this brain snap? Her lungs and chest felt compressed, her breath started to come in short gasps, she felt nauseous and all she could hear was the throbbing in her head as she clutched the steering wheel like a lifeline.

  A truck thundered past, making her veer to the edge of the road where she frantically skidded into a byway and came to a stop.

  She slumped forward, her head on the steering wheel, her shoulders shaking, her stomach heaving. Gasping, she fumbled for her phone with one hand while with the other she tried to open the car door, which suddenly seemed as heavy as a tank.

  Mounting fear and hysteria started to overwhelm her. Her vision blurry, she stabbed at her phone until she heard her mother’s calm voice.

  Ellie croaked, ‘Mum, Mum, I’m having some sort of attack . . .’

  ‘Where are you?’ Sandy’s voice was authoritative.

  ‘In the car . . .’

 

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