If I’m not mistaken, she’s already had quite a few of these men.
‘You!’ The last person her gaze rests on is Josh. She waggles her finger determinedly at him. ‘You!’
He shifts uncomfortably, but seconds later Karen is off again, banging away with the tambourine.
‘Wow,’ I say, nodding towards her.
Josh laughs shyly. ‘I guess bad news affects people in different ways.’
The lead singer pulls Karen to him and she shrieks loudly down the microphone. I feel like covering my ears, but it seems impolite. Karen obviously isn’t going to let a little thing like looming redundancy spoil her evening.
Good for her. I wish I could say the same. I’m certainly not in the party mood any more. I actually feel like lying on the floor and weeping. Right now, I’d really like to ring my dad and tell him to come and collect me. But, having told him to put the car away and insisting that I could fend for myself, I don’t like to drag him out on this cold winter’s night. Besides, he’d wonder what was wrong and, if I can, I’ll try to put off telling them for as long as possible. They’ll be out of their minds with worry for me.
I might be out of a job in the new year but at least we can have a good Christmas. My heart breaks for Mia. I wanted to make her so proud of her mummy. Now it’s all up in the air again.
‘Chin up,’ Josh says. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it. We just have to wait and see what unfolds.’
‘Your sales figures are great,’ I remind him. ‘The best. I’m certain you won’t be on the hit list.’
‘And you’re Tyler’s assistant. He’s not going anywhere.’
‘You don’t know that. He might think about getting out and going to another company.’ Like a rat deserting a sinking ship. I’m sure the man has no morals. I wouldn’t put it past him. I don’t know Tyler Benson all that well, but I already know that whatever happens he’ll be sure to put his own interests first.
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ he admits.
Inside I’m still reeling. ‘How can they make that much money – seventeen billion pounds – and still be cutting staff?’ I can’t even imagine what one billion pounds must look like.
‘Companies are like that now. They want more and more out of each employee. These days I’m doing the work that two sales managers used to do.’
‘How will they manage with fewer people then?’
Josh shrugs. ‘They just do. But the work gets done in a more slapdash manner. Customer service plummets. They push everyone to breaking point and then the staff that are there are always off sick or cave in with stress.’
‘That’s a terribly bleak picture.’
‘And this is the season that’s supposed to be jolly.’
‘I thought I could count on this job. I had no idea I’d still be in such an unstable situation.’
‘You don’t know what will happen yet. We’ll all have to wait and see. You never know what difference a day can make.’
‘That’s true enough. Yesterday, all I had to worry about was a boss who was groping me every five minutes. Now I’m thinking how I’ll tell my parents that I might be on the scrapheap again so soon after scrambling up off it.’
Josh frowns. ‘What did you say about groping?’
I realise what has inadvertently slipped out. ‘Nothing,’ I say. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I’m thinking this is more than his usual over-the-top flirting?’
Then I realise that it does matter and that I really want to tell Josh. ‘Yes.’ Why should I keep this a secret? It’s not me who’s in the wrong. ‘Tyler’s been giving me a hard time, coming on to me, copping a feel whenever he can.’ I say it lightly and try to shrug it off.
His face darkens. ‘That’s wrong, Louise. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’
‘Have you spoken to anyone about it?’
I shake my head. ‘It’s my problem. I should be able to deal with it. The only upside of the SACKED programme is that I might not have to deal with it any longer.’ I try to laugh but fail. This has affected me more than I’d like to admit, shaken my new-found confidence.
‘In the new year – if we’re both still here – we’ll deal with it.’
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that. But what can we do?’
‘I don’t know,’ he admits. ‘But I’ll think of something.’
‘I never thought working for a renowned corporation would be like this.’
‘Welcome to the cut-throat world of big business.’
I sigh. ‘You sound very pragmatic about it all. I wish I could feel the same. You’ve given so much to this stupid company. You said it even cost you your marriage. Yet they don’t give a second thought to dumping you, or any of us.’
‘That’s just the way it is. No jobs for life any more. It must be difficult if you’re over fifty though. I reckon they’ll be first on the list.’
‘How awful.’ It reminds me of my dad’s situation and how heart-breaking that has been.
He’d worked for the same small engineering company in Milton Keynes for years and, then, at the age of fifty-seven, was made redundant. Try as he might, he couldn’t find anything that used his skills. So he’s ended up working in Marks & Spencer as a security guard. He makes the best of it, but he’s not earning anything like he was. Though they do let the staff buy the food that’s about to go out of date really cheaply, which Mum gets a kick out of.
I wonder if this is what some of my colleagues have in store for them. I feel so awful for the people who are older and have been working at Fossil Oil a long time. What will they do in the new year? Everyone is chasing so few jobs that some of them might not work again.
What an initiation to the Christmas party! I don’t think this night could actually get any worse.
On the stage, Karen sings louder and we both look up. She’s staring right at Josh again. ‘Santa baby,’ she croons. My colleague scoops up her blonde locks with one hand and piles them seductively on her head. She licks her lips and wiggles her hips.
‘She definitely has the hots for you,’ I point out. Karen’s is not a subtle attempt at seduction.
‘That’s a very frightening thought,’ he says.
‘She is so going to regret this in the morning. Do you think I should get her down from there?’ I feel quite protective of Karen as she’s the only colleague I’ve become at all close to.
The song ends with a big flourish and, without warning, Karen launches herself off the stage as if she’s leaping into a mosh pit.
‘Good grief.’ My heart is in my mouth. Now I’m worried for her safety.
She’s held aloft on a sea of arms, Christmas-party crowd-surfing.
Next to me Josh laughs. ‘I think she’ll be OK.’ Then, gently, he lays a hand on my arm. I turn to him and am surprised by the warmth, even tenderness in his eyes. ‘I think you will be too, Louise.’
Chapter Twenty
Kirsten watched open-mouthed as Lance left the stage with Tyler and Melissa. She thought they’d come straight back to the table, but instead they disappeared into the depths of the manor. Perhaps Tyler had persuaded Lance to go straight home after his announcement. It was a wonder the staff hadn’t turned into a lynch mob and strung him up to the glittery disco ball with some tinsel.
She was sure Tyler hadn’t known anything about this; he must be reeling. This was the moment she needed to step up to the plate and support him, not just roll her eyes and think that it was so very typical of Fossil Oil.
Now she didn’t really know what to do with herself, sitting here alone, just waiting. She fiddled with her glass, straightened the candelabra, ripped her Merry Christmas to One and All napkin into tiny shreds. Just as she was tempted to get out her Christmas cracker penknife and play with it, Simon reappeared in front of her.
‘Can we find somewhere to have five minutes alone, Kirsten? There are too many flapping ears here and we need to talk.’
She scanned t
he marquee anxiously, looking for Tyler. ‘I don’t think it’s a very sensible idea.’
‘Since when has being sensible been any fun?’ Before she could protest, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘I won’t take no for an answer.’
‘The past should stay in the past, Si.’ She avoided his gaze. ‘There’s no point raking it up. I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Then you can just listen.’ A waiter passed them and Simon grabbed two empty glasses and a bottle of fizz from the tray he was carrying. ‘I have plenty I want to say to you.’
He guided her through the crowd of revellers, still holding her hand tightly, and out of the marquee. Feeling both anxious and thrilled at the same time, she trailed in his wake as they made their way through the opulent rooms of the manor house. Many of them were in darkness now, some lit only by candles. Every sofa they came across appeared to be occupied by a couple in a passionate embrace. Kirsten didn’t know all that many people at Fossil Oil, but even she realised that most of them weren’t with their usual partners. There would be some sore heads and red faces in the office tomorrow, that was for sure.
Undeterred, Simon walked on, threading his way through the bodies.
‘This is hopeless,’ she said, looking for an excuse to turn back. ‘All the quiet spots have been occupied. We should return to the marquee.’
‘Oh, no,’ Simon said. ‘I don’t give up that easily.’
It was a trait she remembered well about him.
‘We’ll be missed from the party.’
‘That’s the least of my worries,’ he replied as he snatched up a throw from one of the sofas, threw open the French doors ahead of them and led her outside.
‘It’s freezing!’ Kirsten protested as a wall of icy air hit her. She clutched her bare arms.
‘Then we’ll find somewhere warm.’ He stopped to gently drape the throw he’d purloined around her shoulders, wrapping her as if she was something fragile and precious.
He’d always been so kind, so caring. She hadn’t forgotten that either. With Tyler she could have frozen to death and he would have scarcely noticed. Oh yes, Simon was a different kettle of fish altogether. He was compassionate and thoughtful where Tyler was bullish and brash.
His fingers lightly brushed the sensitive skin on the back of Kirsten’s arms, which made her shiver. Simon looked down into her face; his eyes were filled with tenderness and a river of emotions flowed over her. It was too much to be so close to him again. How could she possibly bear it?
The night had turned mind-numbingly cold. The mercury in the thermometer must be plummeting fast. A hard white frost sparkled on the trees and ground like icing sugar. A few flakes of snow drifted lazily in the air.
Simon took her hand again and, realising that resistance was futile, she let him guide her away from the house. Wide steps led them down towards the beautifully manicured gardens. Ahead was a broad parterre with a stunning fountain of a rearing horse as its centrepiece, the spraying water sparkling like crystals in the moonlight. Classical sculptures graced the four corners. Beyond that, the gardens fell away before melding seamlessly with the surrounding fields and woods of the estate.
Kirsten thought she might like to come back here in the summer to see it in its full and magnificent glory. Of course, she’d come by herself: she knew Tyler wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested.
‘My heels are sinking into the grass,’ she said as they reached the vast expanse of lawn. Simon turned towards her and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. Kirsten held up a hand. ‘Don’t you even think about picking me up.’
He laughed. ‘Let’s stick to the path then. We’ll head over there.’
A little way in the distance, tucked in among the shrubs, was a small lean-to building. The bottom half was ancient brick while the top was more like a greenhouse. When they reached it, Simon tried the door. He grinned back at her when it creaked open.
‘We’ve left a hundred-roomed mansion and you’ve brought me to a potting shed?’
‘It’s not a potting shed,’ he countered. ‘It’s a … um … Yes, it’s a potting shed.’
They took in their surroundings.
‘But it’s a very nice one,’ he insisted.
She smiled, despite not wanting to give him any encouragement.
‘I feel really naughty sneaking in here.’ But the feeling was much more than that. This was so wrong. She really should avoid being alone with her old lover. The man who she still thought of as the love of her life. The one that got away. There was really nothing he could say to her that could ever change that.
‘It’s warm,’ he said. ‘Come on in.’
‘I shouldn’t. Really. Someone might see us.’
Simon’s eyes glittered in the darkness. ‘Live dangerously!’ He grasped her throw in his hands and gently tugged her inside.
Kirsten pulled back, but only half-heartedly, and they ended up giggling. They’d always laughed together so easily. Their whole relationship had been underpinned by laughter, fun and love. They’d had happy times, so many of them.
She couldn’t think of that now. It was madness. Those times had long gone and she should keep that at the forefront of her mind.
The potting shed smelled musty, of earth and growth. It was still and calm and felt like a little oasis, cut off from the world. The raucous party in the main house felt a million miles away.
Workbenches ran along either side and on them were the random tools of an absent gardener – trowels, forks, string, a myriad bits and bobs of horticultural detritus. It was a comforting place to be. She could imagine the people who’d worked here for hundreds of years.
‘Look, there’s a seat.’ Simon urged her forward again.
At the far end was a sturdy wooden form that looked inviting. Above it was a heater fixed to the brick wall and Simon reached up to switch it on even though she didn’t now feel cold at all. At one end of the bench there was a discarded newspaper and Kirsten wondered if this was where the gardeners took their tea break.
Simon swept the newspaper over the bench, sending dust motes in the air to be caught by the moonlight, and then indicated that she should sit. Which she did, suddenly careless of the white dress she was wearing.
The bottle of champagne was already open and Simon filled the glasses for them.
‘Just one for me,’ he said. ‘I’m driving.’
‘I’m supposed to be driving too,’ she said, ‘but I’ve already had my quota. Yet I don’t think I can get through this night on only two drinks. I might as well go for broke.’
She and Tyler would have to make alternative arrangements about getting home, or maybe they could stay somewhere local, as he’d suggested. It was a shame this place wasn’t a hotel. If the worst came to the worst, perhaps Tyler could pull rank and commandeer one of the sofas for them to spend the night on.
Simon sat down next to her and lifted his glass. ‘A toast?’
‘What to?’
‘To us.’
She shook her head. ‘There is no “us”, Si. Not any more. All that was a long time ago and it doesn’t do to rake up the past.’ She couldn’t even think about going there. It would be far too painful.
His face fell and she offered, ‘A toast to Christmas, maybe?’
He nodded sadly. ‘To Christmas then.’
They chinked glasses and sipped. The champagne was as chill as the night air. The bubbles danced on her tongue; it would have taken very little to persuade her to down the whole bottle.
He looked so handsome in his dinner suit. He always had. He was minus his bow tie now. Most of the men were, as there’d been a rather drunken young girl going round collecting them – something to do with a charity. Simon had clearly succumbed. The top button of his dress shirt was open and there was a strong pulse at the base of his throat. She wanted to place her fingertip on it to feel the life flowing inside him. There were so many nights when she’d wondered whether she’d ever see him again. Now he wa
s here, right in front of her, and she felt like crying. Whether it was with relief, regret or what, she didn’t know. Her emotions were running wild inside her. Kirsten tore her eyes away from him. She didn’t think she could cope with any discussion about what had happened between them.
Keeping the conversation to more neutral matters and getting the hell out of here as quickly as she could would be very wise.
Chapter Twenty-one
‘I don’t suppose many of the staff will be having a merry Christmas now,’ Kirsten noted. ‘Not after Lance’s speech.’
‘I had no idea about that,’ Simon confessed. ‘It’s not exactly an auspicious start to my career at Fossil Oil.’
‘I despise this company now,’ she said vehemently. ‘And everything it stands for. They suck the life out of their employees, and for what? When they’re bone-dry, with nothing left to give, they spit them out. I don’t even work for them, yet I feel they own my soul. They’re vile, Simon. Truly vile.’
‘I didn’t like what I saw this evening,’ he admitted with a weary shake of his head. ‘At this moment I’m wondering why I ever agreed to take the job.’
‘So why did you?’ It was out before she could stop it.
‘I had to come back.’ Simon laid his arm across the back of the bench, his body angled towards her. There was a slight draught from the expanse of windows above them and Kirsten pulled up her knees, wrapping the throw around her. They sat facing each other for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts. ‘I tried not to,’ he said, smiling wistfully at her. ‘Believe me.’
He reached up and took a strand of her hair, twining it through his fingers. She didn’t stop him. She wanted to lean against him, let him hold her in his arms, and it was taking every fibre of her being to fight it.
‘You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved,’ he continued. ‘We were the perfect couple. Everyone said so. I wanted to give you everything. I thought we’d take on the world together.’
‘We were young and naïve.’
‘We were in love, though?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Kirsten sighed. Being here, alone with Simon, she felt she should be honest with him. ‘We were in love.’ So much in love.