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Authors: Angela Marsons

The Middle Child (17 page)

BOOK: The Middle Child
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     A muscle in Tim’s cheek tightened and relaxed like a pulse.

     "Every night I was in that home I lay awake until the early hours devising ways in which to wreak vengeance on my mother.  I planned and plotted and fantasised about violently hurting her and reclaiming my sisters, which in my reasonable mind I knew was impossible but it got me through.  After a while my thinking changed.  I remembered all the things that she’d ever said to me and decided that the best revenge I could ever get was to make sure I didn’t become everything she said I would.  Once the idea occurred to me I knew it was right.  It gave me a focus and that became the only thing I could think about.  It drove me through school, college and two jobs to pay for University.  It drove me to you."

     He looked confused. 
"Am I part of your revenge?"

     She shook her head. 
"You’re part of the vision that I aimed towards.  You’re part of what I aspired to.  I had this big picture in my mind of a great job, a nice house, a good husband and a couple of children.  Two girls," she added, wryly.  "To achieve the whole package was my sole aim.  It was my proof that I was never what she said I was."

    
"You were never that," Tim said, meaningfully.

     She saw the pain of what she’d shared reflected in his eyes yet his love for her shone through.

     Catherine became aware that the restaurant had emptied around them.  Three waiters stood at the front desk.

    
"I think you’d better signal for the bill before we get chucked out."

     Tim paid the bill and walked her outside.  The cold night air bit into the bare skin of her cheeks.

     "Will you please come home so that I can take care of you properly?" Tim asked as they stood beside her car.

     Regretfully Catherine shook her head.  The offer was tempting but she wasn’t ready.  She was learning new things about herself every day but there was still so much to understand.

     "I can’t.  It’s not the right time.  I still have questions."  Although Tim didn’t probe what these questions were she guessed that he knew it was to do with the girls.  She didn’t tell him that if she couldn’t resolve those issues inside herself she might never be coming home.  It was a promise she’d made to herself the night she’d left her family behind.  She either returned to them whole or not at all.

     Tim pulled her into his arms and she let him.  He stroked her hair gently. 
"You went through so much, my love.  You must have been so brave yet frightened.  I want to help you through it.  I want to help you heal."

     Tears pricked at her eyes.  She didn’t doubt the sincerity of his words and his willingness to help her every step of the way.  She had yet to peel back a few more layers and find out if what was left was enough for him and their children.  And that was something she had to discover for herself.

     She returned his embrace and clung to him for as long as she dared allow.  "Maybe soon, my love, maybe soon."

     She extricated herself from his arms and slid into the car without meeting his eyes.  She pulled away from the curb and sensed rather than saw his solitary figure staring after her, his hair turning white with snow.

***

    
"I’m not going," Alex bellowed down the phone at her.

    
"It’s your first time.  It’s okay to be scared of…"

    
"I’m not fucking scared.  I just don’t want to be in a room full of losers who can’t function without a drink."

     Catherine rolled her eyes.  A smile tugged at her mouth. 
"What have you got to lose by just going for one night?"

    
"My freedom if I just happen to throw a few punches at the bunch of self-absorbed idiots who are weak-willed and pathetic.  I’m not like them."

     Catherine wondered just how long it would be until Alex admitted to herself and other people that she had a problem.  The slight trembling that had been present in her voice since her last drink was more pronounced over the telephone.

     "We’ve been through this a hundred times and you agreed to give it a try."

    
"I never promised."

     Catherine wondered if Alex realised that those three words had passed between them countless times as children.  Just about every time that Catherine reminded her youngest sister that she hadn’t done something like make her bed or iron her school clothes.

     "Look," Catherine said, checking her watch.  "I’ll pick you up at six-thirty and take you there."  It was more to make sure that she actually went.  This was the third dry run they’d had.

    
"But you won’t be there with me, will you?"

     Catherine heard the vulnerability in Alex’s voice.  Her defences were still so solid that she wouldn’t admit to the fear of facing her illness.

     She had planned to duck out of the office and take Alex to the AA meeting and then return to work to finish off the monthly budget sheet.  Mr Leigh had requested it by nine the next morning but if she got in around six she should manage to get it done.

    
"I’ll be there, Alex."

    
"How?"

    
"I’ll drop you off and then wait in the car.  Although I can’t be right by your side, at least you’ll know I’m not far away and that I’ll be waiting for you to come out."

    
"Well, if you really want to be that sad…"

    
"I’ll see you later," Catherine said, replacing the receiver.

     Immediately her phone buzzed. 
"Joyce Johnson has been holding for you," said Becky, her new PA.

    
"Didn’t I say not to disturb me?"

    
"But she insisted."

    
"Do you work for her or for me?" Catherine snapped.  This girl had been with her for over a week and still couldn’t take simple directions.  "Tell her I’ll call her back."

     Joyce was still chasing the contract for the make-up on the shoot, due to take place in two days time.  The woman had found out the hard way not to call her bluff.  Within two hours of their last phone call she’d lined up two make-up artists ready to sign a watertight contract.  She had one signed and the other on standby.  She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

     She turned her attention to the mound of paperwork that represented the media contracts.  The legal department had forwarded them to her this morning after two weeks of chasing phone calls and e-mails.  They needed to be authorized and returned to them tomorrow morning.

    
"Hey boss," Lisa said, popping her head around the door.

     Catherine could tell by her tone that something was wrong. 
"Is she crying again?"

     Lisa seated herself in one of the chairs opposite. 
"Not yet but she’s awfully close."

     Catherine put her pencil down and fixed her attention on her former assistant. 
"I can’t help it if she gets simple instructions wrong.  I don’t have the time to pander to her.  We’re all busy and stressed and I don’t like repeating myself."

    
"I know," Lisa said, holding up her hands.  "But she really is trying to get it right.  She’s just frightened of you."

    
"She’s what?" Catherine asked, genuinely surprised. 

    
"You’ve made it clear from day one that you don’t like her."

    
"It’s not my fault that she’s incapable of doing the job.  She’s slow and deliberate.  She needs everything checked and double-checked and she puts calls through when I ask her not to."

    
"And she’s not me," Lisa said, smiling.

     Catherine chuckled, honest enough to admit that Lisa wasn’t too far off the mark. 
"You can say that again."

    
"She’s been here for little more than a week and she does things slowly because she doesn’t want to get things wrong and she doesn’t want you to shout at her.  She’s intimidated by you."

    
"Well I can’t help that," Catherine said, dismissively.

     Lisa got the point and stood to leave. 
"Please just give her a chance.  I was pretty awful for my first couple of weeks but you gave me the benefit of the doubt."

     Lisa left the office but her words lingered.  The poor girl was completely nervous around her which probably didn’t help with her current performance.  Becky did try her patience but that was no reason to bark at her every time she did something wrong.

     "Damn it," Catherine said to herself as she rose from the desk.  Now Lisa had her feeling all guilty and responsible.

     She opened the door to the outer office which housed her assistant and saw straight away that her eyes were red and puffy.

     "Ummm….Becky, that spreadsheet with the preliminary costings was very good.  If I revise the figures, could you update it for me."

     The girl’s face shone with relief and pride and Catherine felt even more guilty.  She had been working so hard recently that she had been blind to just how miserable the poor girl was.

     "Look, I’m sorry for being snappy," she said, deciding to go for an all-out apology.  "I’m not always this bad to work with.  We’re all just really busy and I need you to do what I ask straight away, okay?" She flashed a smile for good measure and saw the girl instantly relax.

    
"Mr Leigh called but I told him you were not to be disturbed."

     The smile froze on her face and she nodded stupidly before retreating back to her own office.  Anger rose inside her but for once the girl had followed her instructions to the letter.  How was she to know that ‘not for anyone’ excluded the owner of the business.

     She punched his number into her phone as soon as she reached her desk.

    
"Aaah, Catherine.  So busy that you can’t speak to me?"

    
"Just a misunderstanding," she hedged.  "Any problems?" she asked, wondering why he needed to speak to her.

    
"I’m meeting later with four potential new investors.  They’ve expressed an interest in seeing the
Finesse
promotion."

     I bet they have, Catherine thought.  This single promotion was about to launch a small advertising company into the big time and it looked like the gravy train was powering up to leave the station.

     "It’s not quite ready yet.  There’s still some artwork to be finished and the…"

    
"I’m more than happy to show them your original storyboard, providing you present it.  Your team is talented and capable but none of them have your flair and passion for presenting an idea."

     A few months ago Catherine would have been flattered by his words but right now she was too exhausted to care.  Her head had been buried in contracts and spreadsheets and office politics for so long that she wondered if she was capable of producing any excitement for the project at all.

     "Of course, Me Leigh, when is the meeting?" she asked, reaching for her diary.

    
"This evening at seven.  We’ll have a brief meeting beforehand to align our strategy."

     Catherine’s hand hovered above the A4 diary page. 
"I’m sorry, I have plans."

    
"No problem, dear," he said, affably.  "You have a couple of hours to cancel them and…"

    
"I’m afraid I can’t do that."

     Shards of silence thundered through the telephone lines.  When his voice came it was low and disbelieving. 
"Catherine, there is no question that you will cancel your arrangements for this evening.  This is an important part of you job and a responsibility that I will not allow you to take lightly.  When you accepted this promotion it was on the understanding that occasionally you may have to put yourself out."

     Catherine’s hand gripped the receiver so hard that it shook against her ear. 

     "And I think I’ve done that," she replied, through gritted teeth. 

     During the last six months her life had been turned upside down.  She had separated from her husband, her mother had died and her sisters had come back into her life and needed her.  For every hour that her life had interfered with her work she had paid it back triple through guilt and responsibility.  She had worked fifteen hour days and most weekends to keep the project on schedule.  She had lived and breathed the campaign since the day she’d accepted the job. 

     She had put every creative instinct on ice to become the intimidating boar that everyone hated, spending each day chasing paper and money.  Her creative brain had been trampled underfoot and she could no longer string a coherent sentence together.  She’d been surviving on auto-pilot for weeks, afraid to give way to the fatigue that riddled her body and Mr Leigh felt that occasionally she should put herself out for her work.

     Catherine thought about her sister waiting on the pavement at
six thirty, ready to take a brave and decisive step into the unknown.  Alex had somehow found the courage to start moving forward, away from the memories that tied her to the past.  

BOOK: The Middle Child
12.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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