by M J Hardy
There are a lot of questions that need answers as I sit on the bed surrounded by the money. This can’t be happening. Is it a dream? It certainly feels like it. Things like this don’t happen to ordinary people like me; there must be some mistake.
As the night wears on, I think about everything and nothing. My thoughts are a jumbled mess that I don’t think I’ll ever sort out.
Somewhere in the middle of it though is a frisson of excitement burning brighter as the hours tick by. He’s gone and my life changes from this moment on. I have money and a job and a whole new start in life. Will he ever come back – possibly? Then again, would I be happy to see him - possibly not?
As I lie back on the bed surrounded by more money than I have ever seen in my life, the overwhelming feeling I have is of – happiness.
However, soon the happiness is replaced by anger. Why has he left me? I deserve more than a Dear John letter left on the side. All of these years of marriage count for something, don’t they? Suddenly, I want answers and it won’t wait.
Quickly, I head to the wardrobe and rifle through the boxes inside. His clothes are gone, which causes the tears to fall once more. Seeing my own clothes hanging there next to an empty void reinforces the fact I’m now on my own. I don’t deserve this, do I?
I find nothing inside the wardrobe, he’s cleaned it out, so I turn my attention to the drawers. Once again, it’s all gone and I bite back the scream that’s not far away. There’s nothing left. Nothing to say he was ever here in the first place. While I was sorting out my new life at Crossline, so was he. He was removing every trace of himself from my life and I want to know why.
I transfer my attention to the rest of the house and tear through it like a whirlwind. Drawers, cupboards, boxes and shelves are all searched methodically for one shred of evidence that he was here in the first place. Nothing. Nothing at all, which makes me even more anxious than before.
Grabbing my phone, I scroll to his number and call it. Why that’s just occurred to me is a mystery because surely, it’s the first thing I should have done? As the call connects, I merely get a recording telling me the number isn’t recognised. This can’t be right. Why would he change his number, it doesn’t make sense?
Quickly, I search for his brother’s number and as the phone rings, will him to answer it.
“Hi, Emma. This is a surprise.”
The relief is overwhelming.
“Carl, thank goodness, have you heard from Ronnie?”
He sounds surprised. “Not for a few months. I think it was around Christmas, why what’s happened?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s left and taken everything with him. I’ve tried to call but his numbers not recognised, I’m so worried.”
“Whoa, slow down, what do you mean, left?”
“Left, Clive, as in left me and taken all his stuff. He wrote me a note and told me he was sorry; sorry for what, I don’t understand?”
I start to cry as the full force of what’s happening hits me and Clive says urgently, “I’ll be right over.”
“What, from Cambridge? It will take hours. No, it’s fine, stay where you are in case he turns up.”
He laughs bitterly. “I doubt that, he’s never been one to keep in touch.”
I know he’s right because Ronnie didn’t get on with his brother. I never really understood why because Clive and Sarah have always been the kindest, nicest people you could meet. Come to think of it, Ronnie kept away from all his family and I never really understood why. I did ask him a few times and he just told me there was stuff in the past that couldn’t be undone. I could tell it upset him so never really pressed the matter. Some wife I turned out to be. I never really took the time to find out why.
So, taking a deep breath, I say in as calm a voice as I can manage, “Just tell me if he gets in touch, please, Clive.”
“Of course, you know I will.”
“Even if he asks you not to tell me?”
There’s a brief silence and I know I’m asking a lot, but then he says gruffly, “Even then. I can tell you’re worried and I could batter him for doing this to you, it isn’t right.”
“No, it isn’t but shit happens, you should know that.”
Again, there’s a brief silence and then he says softly, “If you need anything, and I mean anything, call me. I want to help.”
The tears threaten to unravel me and I sniff, “Thank you.”
I hang up before I totally embarrass myself, and then the grief hits me. My husband has left and something is very wrong. It must be so bad he’s had to run from me, his wife and the only one who could help him.
Suddenly, I’m not so sure I want him gone after all. In fact, if he walked in that door now, I would be so happy I would forgive him anything – wouldn’t I?
15
Two weeks later and there’s still no word from Ronnie. I’ve tried everyone I know and come up blank. The most alarming thing I learned was that Ronnie hadn’t worked at the taxi company for several months. They told me he had walked out one day and told them to stick their job. I felt foolish and couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. Why didn’t he tell me?
I tried to contact his friends who he played cards with but don’t have their numbers. His company were no help with that either and aside from going to the police, there is nothing else I can do, I’ve reached a dead end.
As it became apparent I wasn’t going to find him; I gave up. He obviously doesn’t want to be found. So, I concentrated on my own life instead and prepared to start my new job by leaving my old one and making sure I had a wardrobe fit for my new role.
Now the day has arrived and I am due to start at Crossline as Julian Landon’s personal assistant and I feel so nervous I’m not sure I will last the day.
This time as I walk into the building, it’s to the job I always thought I deserved. A new life with the very people I admired from the shadows. Am I prepared to be recognised and known by name, or will I crave the anonymity the invisible people enjoy?
I sign in at reception, thankful the security guard is new and wouldn’t recognise me. In fact, I doubt there is anyone in this building who would. I have been a part of their world for years, and yet they pass me in the street without a backward glance. Not anymore. No, now I’m someone important because I have the ear of the big boss himself and I can’t wait to start.
Harriet meets me in reception and smiles. “It’s good to see you, Emma. Are you looking forward to your new job?”
“I am, although a little nervous. I’m so grateful for the opportunity, though.”
She laughs. “I’ll have that in writing if I may, you may not be so thankful after a few days in Mr Landon’s company. He’s an acquired taste, that’s for sure.”
I feel a little bad for him as she bad mouths her boss and my disapproval must show on my face because she backtracks. “However, he’s an impressive man who wouldn’t be here now if he wasn’t extremely clever and good at what he does. People like him need to be the way they are – driven and they are intolerant of the rest of the lowly workers who don’t measure up to their standards.”
Suddenly, she looks serious. “Measure up, Emma, because your life will be a lot easier if you do. Don’t be complacent and discover how his mind works. Claire was a good judge of character and easy to get along with and even she struggled from time to time.”
I smile gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll bear that in mind. Um, about Claire, is she going to train me?”
“No,” Harriet shakes her head and looks a little sad. “She left on Friday and it was quite sudden. She told me she’d had enough and he could train his own assistant because she was out of here. It was a sad end to a successful career and I hold Mr Landon responsible. He couldn’t even give her the send-off she deserved.”
She sighs and then smiles brightly. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear about that. Today is all about you and your new exciting role. I’ll take you through the general admin and then we can get you settl
ed in. Mr Landon is away from the office today, anyway, so we can settle you in before he bowls in demanding your attention.”
As I follow her to personnel, I feel a little deflated. He’s not here. Why does that make me feel as if something’s missing? I can’t help but think back to the last few weeks where I’ve thought of little else than my impressive new boss. I’ve imagined all sorts and some it x-rated. I must get a grip because the last thing I need is to develop a super-sized crush on the annoying man who now calls the shots.
It turns out to be an interesting day and I soon find myself relaxing. Alice and Harriet couldn’t be kinder and show me to my desk and point out where everything is. Then they leave me to get acquainted with things while they set about organising my security pass and email.
I spend the rest of the day looking through files and familiarising myself with my own office space. Claire, to her credit, has left a list of pointers to help me, which I am extremely grateful for. It makes me laugh when I see a big ‘Good luck you’re going to need it’ written in bold letters at the foot of it but she doesn’t need to tell me that. I know already because luck is going to play a big part in making a success out of this job, that’s certain.
Now Ronnie has left, I can devote my full attention to my job. If I am worried about him, I push it aside because I can only focus on one thing now and that’s my career.
So, when everyone else leaves, I stay. I spend hours poring through the files and making notes. I set up my computer and read through the calendar, familiarising myself with appointments, scheduled meetings and anything imminent. Then I google companies I’m unfamiliar with and the names on the appointment calendar. I make it my mission to find out everything I can, so I’m prepared for anything because I know that Julian Landon will expect it.
Luckily, the cleaning company that I worked for replaced me with someone who doesn’t know me and I watch with interest as she does the very job I used to. She keeps her distance because I am working when no one else is and I feel so grateful that I took a chance and went for this position because look at me now.
It must be 8pm before I feel the tiredness taking over and I shut down my computer and head for the lift. As first days go, this one was the best ever and I feel a great sense of job satisfaction as I head for home.
The train home was quiet because of the time I travelled, giving me a much-needed seat and time to think with no distractions. I thought about Ronnie and the mystery surrounding him. I’m trying not to think the worst, but it’s impossible not to. Nothing adds up, and yet everything points to the one possible reason – the missing girls. Surely it wasn’t him, but what if it was? This is serious and I fully expect a knock on the door any day from the police or the press.
The same subject is on my mind as I make the short walk from the station to my home. The street lamps illuminate my way, and the only companion I have is my overactive imagination.
I even start to imagine I’m being followed and pick up my pace. I don’t know why but it feels as if someone is there, watching and waiting, but for what? Could it be Ronnie, is he waiting to check if the coast is clear?
I daren’t turn around to look and am just grateful for the passing cars offering some kind of protection if I am suddenly attacked.
My heart is hammering so fast and my throat is dry. I can feel it, someone’s there, and it’s not an innocent passer-by either.
As I reach my front gate, I stifle a sob because I hear the footsteps closing in on me. They quicken and I fumble for my keys and my hand shakes as I struggle to unlock the door. The door gives way under my shoulder as I shove it hard and almost fall inside, and then just as quickly, I slam it shut and lock and bolt it, gasping for air as I slump to the floor.
I listen but there is nothing, just the sound of my own rough breathing and I almost cry with relief. That was close. Who was it?
Quickly, I haul myself up and race upstairs, reaching the front bedroom and peering from the corner of the window, the curtains obscuring me from the road outside.
Scanning the street, I look for a shadowy figure watching the house, but there is nobody around. Feeling a little foolish, I rip off my coat and boots and sink down onto the bed and put my head in my hands. What’s happening to me? I am so on edge and probably imagining all sorts – I must be, surely?
16
At 8am, I head inside my office and feel a great sense of pride. I did this. Against all the odds, I clawed my way to the top of the ladder by thinking outside the box. No more serving the very people I aspire to be. Now I’m one of them and it feels so good.
The door to Mr Landon’s office is slightly ajar and I feel nervous as I hesitate outside, wondering if I should go in.
Then I hear a terse, “Well, come in then and stop making the place look untidy.”
Quickly, I do as he says and swallow hard as I see the man himself looking at me with interest. As usual, he is looking so good it makes my heart beat just a little faster and makes me lose the power of speech. Then he leans back and says, “Sit.”
Without thinking, I do as he says – we will work on his manners when I have my feet under the table a little more.
“I must say you’ve disappointed me already, Mrs Carter.”
My heart sinks. “I’m sorry, sir, please explain.”
His eyes dance with the excitement of a bully taunting its victim as he says shortly, “You’re late, which means my coffee is too.”
“What do you mean, I’m early? I’m not supposed to start until 9?”
“Correction, Mrs Carter, your contracted hours are 9-6 but I expect you here when I arrive which is 7am and you leave when I tell you. You are my personal assistant and I need you to be available at all times.”
I know he’s being unreasonable and Harriet Masters would definitely have something to say about this, and yet I wonder if he’s just testing me. I wouldn’t put it past him, but I can’t take that chance, so I just nod. “Of course, I won’t make the same mistake again.”
He nods and then turns to his screen and I’m unsure what to do next. After an awkward silence, he barks, “Still here, Mrs Carter? My coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Quickly, I scrape back my chair and almost run from the room. I can’t believe that man. How rude can one person be? This can’t be right. Do people really get away with speaking to others like that? Then it hits me. He just did. I made it easy for him and set myself up for failure because if I give into him even once, it gives him the mandate to carry on doing it.
My legs shake as I take my seat at my desk and wonder what on earth to do? If I do as he says, I don’t have the power to refuse next time. If I don’t get his damned coffee, he may decide I’m not the assistant for him.
Erring on the side of caution, I head toward the kitchen and decide to suck it up this once. When Harriet arrives, I’ll have a word and ask her advice.
However, I’m still fuming when I deliver his coffee and knock loudly on his door. I hear nothing, so just head inside anyway and see him standing at the window with his phone pressed to his ear. He is talking loudly and appears to be arguing with someone, so I set his coffee down and turn to leave.
“Wait.”
His terse command stops me in my track and I raise my eyes to see him watching me with an irritable expression.
He cuts his call and says angrily, “Bloody incompetents. Now, fetch me the Davidson file and be snappy about it. You took far too long with the coffee, which doesn’t fill me with hope that you’re the person I’ve been looking for.”
The tears burn behind my eyes, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how he got to me. So, I just nod and head back outside and search for the file among Claire’s impeccable filing system. Thanking God for Claire, I locate the file easily and head straight back into the lion’s den.
As I place the file on his desk with no words spoken, he gestures to the seat in front of him and says bluntly, “Sit.”
Feeling like a do
g obeying its master, I do as he says, eager not to antagonise the complete and utter bastard that holds my future in his hands.
I must sit there for at least ten minutes while he studies the papers before him and then he looks up and I see a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “The information you fed me regarding Slater has stirred up an interesting predicament.”
I say nothing but look at him with an eagerness that has pushed aside any hatred I have for the man looking at me so keenly. “This file is one we’ve been working on for some time. It’s a company on its knees with no hope of recovery. The share price has plummeted and the receivers are circling the carcass as we speak. Slater obviously discovered something of significant value regarding this company because they have received a bid from an interested party who has agreed to take the business on for just £1 and pay off the debts in return.”
He leans back and grins. “I had a guy I use to dig a little deeper on the back of your information and he discovered the company have hit on a solution for waste management that will solve the world’s landfill problems and reduce them by at least 20% in the first year alone, increasing in volume in the next five years. With the correct finances in place, this company could be worth billions and we are writing it off as dead in the water.”
I’m not even remotely sure why he’s telling me this, but look at him with a shared excitement and he laughs softly. “Well done, Mrs Carter, you just earned your first brownie point. Without your information, I would be wrapping this one up and burying them in the deepest grave possible. However, now…”
He leans forward and taps his pen on the desk. “Now, I have acquired as many shares as possible, driving up the share price and creating a buzz of excitement. As soon as the markets opened, the share price has increased steadily until it reached an all-time high. Now my shares are worth four times what I paid for them and Mr Slater is having to explain to his contact why he will have to pay above the odds to acquire the shares he so badly needs.”