Just Like That, page 3
‘Are you all right?’ a deep male voice filters down from above.
Looking up, I shield my eyes from the bright sunshine, and see a man hovering over me. He looks around thirty and is unshaven with dishevelled dark brown hair. He’s also quite broad and muscular, and he’s wearing overalls, suggesting he’s a manual labourer of some kind. Even in my emotional state, I don’t miss that he’s quite attractive, in a rugged way. Making eye contact with him, I suddenly feel embarrassed by my behaviour.
‘Oh… erm… yes, I’m… sorry… I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘You didn’t disturb me. I was passing and I thought you might need some help.’
‘No, I’m OK. Or at least I will be.’
‘Have you had some bad news?’ The man gazes down at me in a way that makes me feel small and vulnerable.
‘Eh… yeah…’ I give a long, loaded sigh. ‘Something like that.’
‘Do you have anyone you can call, maybe? You seem like you need some support.’
‘Not really. They wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway.’
‘Right. Can I do anything?’
The man seems a bit uncomfortable, but he also shows no sign of leaving. I cross my arms over my body protectively. He’s obviously trying to help, but it’s clear he’s no natural when it comes to comforting someone in distress. The best thing would be for him to leave me in peace, but for some reason, he doesn’t seem to want to do that.
‘I’m OK, really,’ I reply. ‘Thanks for your concern.’
Rather than taking the hint, the man lingers, looking thoughtful.
‘How about I buy you a coffee?’
As he says this, the penny drops as to why he’s still here. He’s not a concerned citizen; he’s hitting on me. That’s why this interaction is so awkward: because his expressed motivations don’t match his intentions. This realisation has me fizzing again, my fuse having remained short following my altercation with my parents.
‘No, thanks.’ I ensure my tone is firmer than before and avoid any further eye contact. ‘I’ve got all I need here.’
He seems to accept this and turns away, then he hesitates and swivels back to me.
‘Are you sure? I don’t like leaving you on your own. Some company might help.’
Yeah, might help you get in my pants, or so you think, my inner voice spits. I’m now fuming at the audacity of this guy preying on someone in such a vulnerable state. Unfortunately, though, it’s not unheard of. I’ve come across enough real-life stories to know I need to be well on my guard.
‘Look, I don’t need company or someone to share my woes with.’ This time I fix him with a defiant stare. ‘I’m not sure if this is something you’ve done many times or if you thought you’d try your luck today, but whatever it is, do me a favour and get lost.’ I add some extra venom to this request, to make sure he gets the message.
The man’s expression turns to one of surprise – most likely surprise that he’s been caught out.
‘Of course, I’ll leave you in peace then.’ He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender and walks off.
Watching him go, I feel slightly guilty for being so direct, but as my mind trawls back over the interaction, that guilt disintegrates. He was at it. No question. But one thing’s clear: he wasn’t a pro. Forcing my focus back to what’s important, I decide that I’ve spent long enough wallowing. It’s time to get back to my brother and find out what we’re facing together.
Chapter 4
Five weeks on from Seth’s stroke, the doctors communicate that he’s making enough progress to be discharged in the coming weeks and begin a dialogue with me over his care needs. They’re confident that a home setting will be more comfortable and reassuring for him as he recovers.
Despite this progress, my brother is facing a long and difficult road back, with his consultant having confirmed he won’t regain some of the function he has lost – principally the use of his left arm. This news devastated me, possibly more than it upset Seth when they told him. He all but took it in his stride – perhaps he was just glad to be alive. Thankfully, there was also good news: the cognitive impacts he has experienced are largely reversible. This means Seth’s speech, which was almost incomprehensible at first, has the potential to improve significantly with intensive therapy, and he should be able to re-learn how to walk, but is unlikely to play football again.
With my parents having let him down so badly – though he doesn’t know the half of it and I’m not about to tell him – my protectiveness over my brother has grown like a tumour. When they eventually did visit, I played ball and was civil while in Seth’s presence, but I gave them none of my time or energy beyond that. As expected, they didn’t try very hard to show me my judgement of them was wrong. Within two weeks, they were back in sunny Spain, living the life of riley, while I continued to put on a brave face and keep Seth’s spirits up.
‘How are you coping, sugar cream pie?’ My bestie, Amelia, asks me one evening during a much-needed support call.
In the absence of my parents, Amelia’s been my rock – actually, more like a huge sparkly gemstone, having helped me through the most difficult of times and kept me from falling into complete despair. The only place I’ve felt any real solace or sense of escape has been at work, where I plaster my best smile on my face each day and keep kicking ass in the events world, with Craig cheering me on (while he simultaneously tots up the earnings).
‘I’m doing OK… I think.’ I grimace at my phone, which is in my hand and on loudspeaker. ‘Up and down, if I’m honest. I’m not getting enough sleep because I’m worried about Seth… about our future.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘I guess. I don’t like it though. I was always so steady and unflappable before. Still am – most of the time – but every now and then my reactions are a bit… unpredictable.’
‘How do you mean?’ Amelia asks.
I shrug, even though I know she can’t see me. ‘It’s not a big deal, but sometimes I find myself shying away from things I’d normally face head on. Then at other points I get pissed at stuff that wouldn’t usually get to me.’
‘Sounds like stress to me. You’re on edge so you’re operating in a different mode to usual, and your fight or flight instincts are kicking in. Give yourself a break, lovely. You have a lot going on and the process for having Seth coming to live with you sounds awfully complicated.’
‘It is and it isn’t.’ I rub my forehead exhaustedly. ‘The main thing is getting through the assessment. Thankfully, with my flat being on the ground floor and quite roomy, I’ve passed that part of it with flying colours. I just need to get a ramp fitted at the main door and some adjustments made to my bathroom. However, my job has been an area of concern, as he can’t be left alone, but it’s not like I can give it up – I need to bring in an income – nor would I want to.’
‘Oh, I wish I lived closer. I was thinking… maybe I could look for something in Edinburgh, so I could be there to offer you more help? I’m sure there are plenty of companies who need an ethically sourced, climate-friendly PR and social media warrior.’
‘I have zero idea what that means, so I couldn’t possibly comment.’ I laugh weakly, my brain too scrambled to try and decipher Amelia’s bizarre use of language. ‘Thanks for the offer, but you stay where you are. The great city of London must need its warriors. Anyway, this is where my parents did come to some use. I put a major guilt trip on them and they couldn’t agree fast enough to pay for a private carer. I’m about to start the process of hiring someone.’
‘Good. At least the slippery toadstools are shelling out in that respect.’
‘Yes, quite. I’m banking on being able to make it work, because I need my brother back, Meels. I’m lost without him.’
I pour truckloads of hope into that sentiment, however, after another couple of weeks of seeing Seth receiving compassionate but limited support and companionship in the hospital, while I’m at work for most of his waking day, I see the hope in my – normally upbeat and positive – brother’s eyes begin to fade and his fight start to peter out. It’s nothing short of soul destroying and as much as it pains me to have to take a financial and personal hit, I decide there’s only one thing to do when I bring him home.
* * *
‘Jess, how are you today?’ Craig asks as he closes the meeting room door behind him and sits opposite me. ‘I got some feedback from Izzy over the weekend that I thought you might be interested in.’
‘Oh?’ Despite this not being the reason for my meeting with Craig, my ears prick up with interest.
‘She and Jon are really happy with the work you’re doing on the Glasgow Food Lovers event. Particularly the fact that you’ve managed to secure Lewis Capaldi for the headline act.’
‘That I am feeling a bit smug about.’ I grin. ‘I’ve always wanted to see him live.’
‘Well now you’ll have a “front row seat”, so to speak. So, what did you want to talk to me about today?’ He sits back in his seat casually, waiting for me to begin.
I clear my throat, unsure of my opener. ‘Well, you know I’ve been back and forth to the hospital constantly over the last couple of months, visiting Seth.’
‘I do.’ He nods. ‘How’s the poor lad doing?’
I flinch a little at this description of my adult older brother.
‘He’s improving… slowly… and the doctors have agreed he’s ready to be discharged.’
‘That’s good news.’
‘It is. He’ll still need to attend outpatient appointments and physiotherapy, that sort of thing, but they say he’ll make more progress now at home.’
‘Makes sense.’ Craig shrugs in acceptance of this assumption. ‘I’m guessing this isn’t all you wanted to tell me though.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Um… no… see, the thing is, Seth can’t live alone. He’s going to live with me.’
‘Right. And how are you feeling about that? Big responsibility.’
‘It is. Which is why I wanted to speak to you—’
‘Ah, say no more.’ He sits forward and drums his fingers on the table. ‘You want to work from home more often, do more remote meetings with clients. Totally get it, not a problem. Long as the work gets done, I don’t care where it’s done from. That’s the beauty of the digital age.’
Having not anticipated this response or even considered it as an option, I hesitate for a moment, weighing things up. It’s appealing in so many ways – keeping my full-time income being the most obvious one – but it doesn’t take long for me to see the issues it’ll create, the main one being the impact it will have on Seth if I’m hardly around.
‘Um… thanks for the offer, Craig,’ I reply. ‘But I’m afraid it’s more complex than that. I’m going to be Seth’s main carer until he regains his independence. I’ve been told that could take a couple of years – if it happens at all. My parents live abroad and are bankrolling some of this, and there’s some state-funded help we can get, but none of these things will give Seth what I feel he truly needs for his recovery.’
‘Which is?’ Craig’s face has changed and he now looks concerned.
‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not resigning or anything. I just think that Seth needs the kind of care that comes from someone close to him – as much as I can offer him, anyway. Craig, I’d like to reduce my hours to three days a week – Tuesday to Thursday – just for a year or so, to allow me to focus on my brother and give him the best chance I can at a future.’
I’m expecting Craig to look relieved that I’m not leaving the company, but little has changed in his expression, which unsettles me.
‘I’ll still bring in the money… manage all the same contracts.’ I rush to reassure him. ‘I’ll work smarter and harder. You’ll barely notice the difference, I assure you.’
‘And what happens when a client wants a meeting on a Monday or a Friday?’ he asks.
‘I’m sure I can make myself available for the odd call or meeting, if that’s needed. I can easily log on for video calls.’
He frowns in response to this. ‘What if something urgent comes up that requires more of your time?’
‘I can be reachable any time by phone?’ I offer.
‘Right. You see, Jess…’ Craig sighs and raises his eyes to the ceiling, leaving me in no doubt that he sees my request as a massive inconvenience. ‘I’ve been here before with staff members. I’ve had all the reassurances, been told that it won’t get in the way. But the thing is, it has – every time.’
‘But not with me. I can do this, Craig, I know I can.’
‘You don’t know you can, Jess. You don’t have a crystal ball. You think you can and I’m telling you that you can’t. It’s just not possible to do the job of a full-time person in three days.’
‘Then maybe we can hire me a part-time assistant with the money you’ll save on my salary?’
Craig raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Having an admin person pick up the slack is hardly a replacement for an experienced senior events manager.’
This use of language causes me to flinch for the second time during this meeting. Craig and I have always gotten on really well. He’s heavily business driven – always with one eye on the balance sheet – but that’s never been an issue, because I’ve always delivered what he wanted. It seems that our “bond” may have been more fragile than I realised.
‘OK.’ I wrack my brain for something that will re-establish the connection between us. ‘I’ll make myself fully available to them on my non-working days and that will still give me more than enough time with Seth.’
‘It won’t work.’ Craig shakes his head.
‘At least let me try. I’m basically offering to work for free here.’
‘Jess, you know as well as I do, all it takes is for you to drop the ball one, twice max, and we’ve lost our clients to the competition. I’m going to lay this out for you, and I don’t want any arguments or false promises. You can have your three-day week – I’m not a monster, I know how important it is for you to be there for your brother – but I’m taking you off the Glasgow contract and any others that I believe will be high risk to this company—’
‘But you can’t.’ My eyes widen in desperation. ‘I’ve built the relationships, I know exactly what they want. Who’s going to take them on? Isla and Ravi aren’t ready for that kind of responsibility. Surely that’s the definition of high risk, right there.’
‘It’s all about calculated risk, Jess. Isla and Ravi are turning into top quality events managers, and they’re hungry for the experience and opportunities, meaning they’ll make damn sure they get things right. They won’t take their eyes off the prize.’
‘Like I have, you mean.’ I feel a knot form in my stomach as I realise I’m being relegated to ‘lack of commitment’ status.
‘That’s not what I mean. Your priorities have changed, that’s all. And you know that in this client-driven business, there’s no room to hit the brakes. It’s not personal, Jess.’
‘No, I get that. You’d say the same thing to anyone.’
‘I would.’
I swallow down a lump of raw emotion that’s forming in my throat: a mixture of frustration, deep disappointment and a feeling of resentment towards my boss. While I can understand some of what he’s saying, I still don’t think it’s that cut and dried. I’m really good at what I do and it feels like he’s demoting me without even giving me a chance to prove myself. Feeling a strong inner tug, which I recognise as the instinct to abandon my plan to look after Seth and save my career, I look up at Craig. But as the words are forming on my lips, I know I can’t let them escape. I’d be choosing myself over my brother, and that’s not a decision I could ever forgive myself for. I need to suck this up, keep delivering the way I always do and show Craig that he’s got this wrong.
‘OK.’ I lift my chin and my shoulders to bring myself back to being Jess the pro. ‘If I’m giving up those contracts, what do you want me working on?’
Craig looks at me for a moment, as if trying to gauge whether I’m really on board. ‘There are a couple of smaller gigs that are quite well advanced. They’re much less demanding, and the clients are “one offs”, so there’s no real risk there.’
‘Right… anything else?’
‘A new client request has come in this morning. I was going to assign it to Isla, but I think this one will work well for you. You can make it your own and see it through from start to finish.’
‘And it is…?’
‘East Lothian Wildlife Park. They’re a public attraction-slash-conservation business based near Haddington and they’re struggling to make ends meet. The owner has been up front with me that if they don’t find a new revenue source soon, they may have to close.’
I think for a second but come up empty handed. ‘I’ve never heard of them.’
‘Perhaps that’s why they’re failing,’ says Craig.
‘Do they not need a PR person then, rather than an events manager? Or the animal park equivalent of Robert Irvine from Restaurant: Impossible?’
‘Perhaps. But they can’t afford that. They think their best bet is a new revenue stream of “ticketed” events. They have six months to get their balance sheet looking more positive, otherwise they’re effed. Sounds like an interesting one and something to sink your teeth into. We can talk to them about your availability up front…’
As Craig fills me in on the rest, I feel myself struggling to focus on what he’s saying, which is not like me. It’s also not like me to just roll over and take something like this, which for a moment almost fools me into thinking that maybe he’s right to have removed me from my projects. But he’s not. He’s totally off the mark with this and he’s dressing this new project up to try to sell it to me as something positive. Who is he kidding? This and those other poxy jobs will decimate my CV. From spearheading royal events and creating culinary magic on a massive scale in Scotland’s capital city, to a rescue job for an unknown animal park in dire straits that’s probably destined to fail anyway. I’ve just fallen from dizzy heights and it seems almost a certainty that there’s no way back.
