It's another wretchedly cold morning.
The snow has been washed away by the rain that fell last night but has left it's chilly disposition behind. Definite long coat, scarf and boots weather- all in grey and black to sum up my mood and the weather, though everyone else in London seems to have done the same thing.
I don't usually walk to work but my car is still by the pub waiting to be picked up and I need all the time I can get to figure out what to say. It's strange. I'm so used to only having my opinion to respect but somehow Miles is different. I once again mentally applaud how screwed on his head is. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't taken over.
After booking the ticket last night, I pulled out the box of letters Adriana had written me and Miles made us another cup of tea. We spent a few hours on the couch reading and laughing, trying not to cry over them, before I fell asleep.
I then woke the next morning, feeling guilty at seeing my house tidied, a blanket over me and a note from Miles telling me to come see him after talking to my boss for a free coffee.
I did tell him he didn't have to hang around while I wallowed but he shrugged it off as though he'd have none of it. I may owe him something.
***
I arrive at work late, which is the end result of waking, showering and leaving late.
Arriving mid-morning doesn't bother people as I'm usually off doing something else for work before I come in anyway. I open the doors to see everyone there either talking on the phone, cursing at a computer or frowning over paperwork. The nightmare of work and the stress it brings swallows me up immediately making the pit of my stomach ache with dread. I'm not used to waltzing in here with somebody else's plans and confidence in my mind.
I step into my office where my receptionist is frowning thoughtfully into the computer. I keep her in here with me, otherwise, Richard steals her to be his slave. I hand picked and trained her, so I should take it as a compliment.
"Morning Tina," I mumble throwing my bag next to my desk.
"There you are..." she sighs. I look at the small girl strangely. She isn't usually policing my comings and goings. "Where 'ave you been?"
"Why?" I ask starting to clean my desk. It may only be something small to control but it's something. She waves her arms around as though I should know.
"Uhhh, Terry and Fran...ring any bells?"
I drop my head in my hands with a groan.
"Oh, crap!"
"Yes 'oh crap'. You said you'd pop in at eight thirty and its..." she looks at her watch. "twenty past nine. You never forget appointments and your phone is off..."
"Oh yeah," I remember keeping my head buried and closing my eyes. I'm so shattered from last night, I forgot all about it. I stand up and brush my hair out of my face.
"I got a call from the Hospital over in Hobart last night."
Tina curses, cringing in guilt.
"Is she okay?"
"No." I sigh, rubbing my head "She passed away and I've been trying to figure out what to do all night and all morning."
She curses again, starting to wave her arms around again.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't 'ave yelled. It was just so unlike you and...are you okay?" She comes over and gives me a hug which I flinch at. I think the last time I was hugged was six months ago by a very grateful customer after a glass of bubbles. I tap her back tentatively, deciding I still don't like hugs.
"I'm gonna take some time off."
"Of course you are." she says gently, stepping back and holding my shoulders.
"I don't know how much time but I have a seat booked to fly over there tomorrow so...I hate to do this to you but could you sort out the final paper work for the Anderson's and can you call Terry and Fran and...I dunno, apologise profusely. I can't handle having to explain this to every solitary client right now."
"I'm sure they wouldn't expect you to."
"And then you can have some time off. Paid, of course, and we'll pick up where we left off when I come back."
"No, that's fine. I've been telling me mum for yonks that I'd go and see her but I spend every 'oliday eatin' ice-cream and watching episodes of Monarch of the Glen."
"Fair enough." I smile, trying to laugh but not managing.
"Do you need anything?"
"No, no, I'm fine. I have to go talk to Rancid Richard now. Wish me luck." I say with a small smile, knowing I'm going to need something stronger than luck to get me through this.
***
I get to 'The Door' and knock.
I have no idea how to approach this so try to remember what Miles told me. He said to make sure I'm calm but firm and to mention that the tickets are already booked; everything else will come out when it needs to... apparently.
There's a grunt from the other side of the door so I open it and step in, already feeling dejected.
Calm but firm. Tickets booked.
Calm but firm. Tickets booked.
I'm so very not prepared for this.
***
"Do you have a couple of minutes?" I ask, closing the door behind me. He doesn't look up from his folder but gestures to the seat. I decide to stay standing. Sitting will just make me feel even smaller than I already do
"Richard. . ."
"Have you looked over the Manor house on Dover Ave yet?" he asks the folder. I restrain myself from rolling my eyes.
"No. I'm going away. As a false gesture of confidence, I even fold my arms.
He looks up from his desk, his eyebrows furrowed.
"I thought we agreed that..."
"No Richard, you agreed. I didn't. Anyway, I just got a call from the hospital. My sister passed away yesterday."
His frown disappears and he looks at me perplexed. I'm not sure what was so perplexing about those words.
"What's the problem then?" he asks. I cock my head slightly to the right with an equally as confused look. Miles words 'calm but firm' flee out the back door of my mind and the words 'riled and aggravated' step in like bouncers in a bar, ready for trouble.
"What's the problem?" I repeat bitterly. "My last remaining family member just died on the other side of the world...that's the problem!"
Richard gives a long sigh and starts weaving his pen through his fingers as he talks.
"Look, I'm sorry to hear that but you just said it yourself. She's on the other side of the world, what can you do?"
"She was my sister." I point out, realising this is a new low, even for Richard.
"Right...okay." he gives in, "Well whatever needs to be done can wait two weeks. Sell this house first then sort out the paperwork later..."
"I can't. I've already booked a ticket."
"To where?" he growls tossing the pen aside and leaning back in his chair.
"Tasmania. It's where she lived. Where the funeral will be."
He sighs again, rubbing his forehead in thought. I think he's losing sight of who needs to be the upset one in this conversation.
"That was a bit hasty! You're leaving me in a tight spot here. You hardly even knew the woman, right? You only just met or something, so what use is there going over there when its all...you know? Over. If you're the only family member, they will get in contact with you and send the paperwork. They can even send you the ashes if it's so important to you. Besides, tickets are refundable..."
"My goodness, is that all death is to you? Inconvenience and paperwork?"
"No, I'm just saying, she's passed away now...on the other side of the world. This will keep you busy. It won't make any difference to the situation whether you leave it a while. The paperwork won't come in for another week or two anyway so... what can you do?"
"GRIEVE!" I yell, leaning over his desk. "She didn't just get divorced or have a small operation, she died and I wasn't there! Now I don't know about you, but I'm not a robot, so I need some time off to dwell on how horrid I have been as a sister and re-evaluate my life entirely. It's what normal people do. People with a heart do. Grieve!" My heart rate picks up and the intensity of the last twelve hours seems to condense into one emotion: Anger. "I have given up a lot for you and for this job. Fifteen years I have slaved for this and what do I get back? When I asked for some time off when she was dying, you put it off. When I promised to sell one last house for you before I left, you went back on your word and handed me another and now, when my sister DIES, you still won't give me time off?"
Now he stands up, his imposing height shadowing me.
"I'm giving you the time off, Nina! I just want you to sell this one house first.I just want you to finish what you committed to. Surely, it's not an unreasonable ask."
I throw my hands up and step back, unable to get any words out. Instead, I start shakily taking things out of my pocket: Business Cards, my name badge, my phone, and throw them on his desk, my eyes stinging and heart thumping violently.
"I'm done...I quit..." is all I can say through the disbelief and anger. He opens his mouth to say something but I turn around and storm out of his office, seething.
***
I slam 'The Damn Door' behind me and let out an infuriated scream, giving everyone a fright.
I ignore the looks of confusion and let out a breath, trying to calm myself. I storm towards my office and throw open the door.
"Tina. Get my bag, leave your phone behind. We're going to see Miles." I then slam the door closed again and storm out, hopefully for the last time. The walk from work to the café is about to lose at least another thirty seconds.
***
Tina's having trouble keeping pace with me and I'm starting to regret my choice in shoes. The air is cold and as I plough through the streets, it starts to dry my throat, hurt my eyes and make my nose run.
Richard has always been a heartless pig but that was just ridiculous! I think it was how calm he was during the whole thing that bugged me the most. No sympathy...not that I deserve it. No nothing...after fifteen years!
I'm half expecting myself to start bawling any minute now. I've never been the crying type anyway, not that I know what to cry about yet. The sister I don't know well enough to miss or the Toe Rag formally known as my boss? At the moment, my focus is on the coffee that will be waiting for me to defrost my throat and the provider of the coffee to defrost my mood.
I open the café door, not quite as violently as I want to, Tina's little self scampering behind me with my bag and a worried expression. The café isn't busy yet so Miles is sitting in our usual spot on the sofa with a cup of coffee and a book about travel. His eyes flick up and he pauses upon seeing me.
I may be a tad early.
He sits up slowly, confused and clicks his fingers at a girl at the coffee machine, keeping his eyes on me.
"Sharon? I'll need a strong long black," he says to the girl. Good lad.
"And a flat white," Tina adds before I flop down next to Miles, closing my eyes.
"Tina Miles, Miles Tina," I say blankly. I hear them make brief greetings as my mind starts to implode with worries. I want to cry but I can't. I want to scream and yell and kick but I can't. Instead, I just sit there feeling exhausted from the power-walk over here and lost as to where to start. Miles puts an arm around me and pulls me into his shoulder...he smells like coffee.
"What happened?" I hear his calm voice ask. I don't answer, not out of rudeness but because my throat is still burning from the cold. He must have looked to Tina for an answer because I hear her whispering to him.
"I 'ave NO idea."
I swallow hard and open my eyes. A tear finally rolls down my cheek: not because of Richard or even Adriana but because of how un-me I feel.
Crying.
Not thinking straight.
Not knowing what to do....collapsing onto a man far too young for me.
It's pathetic, that's what this is.
I'm only thirty-six. I shouldn't be having menopausal breakdowns for at least another ten years yet.
I stay there for a while longer, eyes closed again.
I can't believe I just quit my job. What now? Work was all I had...Wow, that's a sad thought.
"Nina?" I hear Miles say. "Coffee..."
I lift my head up off his shoulder and open my eyes, letting the furriness in front of them subside to reveal a large mug. I take it and let the hot bitterness thaw the icy dry feeling grabbing at my throat. I cringe and hand the cup to Miles. He takes it, tastes it and proceeds to add another two sugars.
"Nina, what happened?" he asks again, putting his hand on my back and handing me back my coffee. I take another sip and smile a thanks to him before putting it back down. I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and turn to him, interested to see his reaction to this.
"I just quit."
To my surprise, a smile spreads across his face. A wide, relaxed smile.
"Good for you."
I look at him strangely. It doesn't feel good for me.
"You quit?" a small frightened voice squeals. I look at Tina, remembering her presence.
"I'm so sorry, Tina. I'll help you find a better place to work, he just...he wouldn't give me the time off for this..."
I see both Tina and Miles eyes darken.
"He what!?" Tina gasps.
"Nina, you're entitled to bereavement leave. It's law, its...common courtesy."
"Technically, he reckons he was going to give me time off after I sold this one last house...two weeks he says."
"Oh my goodness..." Tina gasps. "as if grieving a death can be postponed the slimy no good piece of..."
I block my ears to the profanities that follow and focus my attention back on Miles.
"Anyway, I quit and now I really don't know what to do."
He shrugs.
"Why should the plan change? This just means you have more time to sort yourself out."
I frown at him.
"You're making me sound like a mental case."
He chuckles a bit, handing my coffee back to me and forcing me to rest back on the sofa. I do so, my shoulders still feeling tight.
"Come on Nina. You've just spent the last how many years working for that business?"
"Fifteen years."
"Wow." he says quietly.
"Yes 'wow', still think I look good for my age?" He looks down, smiling to himself.
"Okay, so you've been working there for fifteen years, doing what your boss wants, what your clients want, pleasing everybody but yourself. It must be your turn."
Tina then leans forward.
"What are three things you're passionate about?"
"What?"
"Answer it..."
I sigh and close my eyes in thought then sit up, thinking of something.
"Coffee doesn't count," Miles says softly before I can even say anything. I flop back and moan.
"Well, I don't know. What would you say?" I ask him.
"Music, travel and dogs."
"Dogs?" I repeat. "Really? Does that even count? Why dogs?" His eyes flick down and he shrugs a bit. I realise then that my tone was probably a tad off. Great, I'm turning into my boss...ex boss.
Miles must notice my discomfort because he gives me a sympathetic look before resting his head back again.
"I used to work in Animal rehabilitation...namely dogs. I worked with the ones that have been abused or neglected and get them to a stage where they can be adopted out."
I look at him, surprised.
He sings, makes coffee, he's intelligent, not bad on the eyes, single and he loves animals.
"What?" he asks, wondering why not only me but now Tina is looking at him, mouth agape.
I shake my head and look at Tina again. Her mouth is still open meaning you can almost hear the wedding march music emanating from her as she looks at Miles. I click my fingers.
"Oi! What was the point of that?"
Her eyes flick back to me and she closes her mouth again.
"What? Oh, my mum is a behavioural psychologist and reckons that most people she sees aren't happy because they don't have things they're passionate about. It's the first question she asks any guy I bring home. Anyway, if you're not passionate about one thing then you need all the time you can get to find something."
"Mm," I mumble, screwing up my nose. "Why do I get the impression that will be harder than it sounds?"
"You'll be fine," Miles assures me. "Just don't look for something. You're going there for Adriana, just don't rule anything out. If you start looking for something to be passionate about while you're feeling like you are, you won't enjoy yourself."
"How do I find something then?"
"It'll find you," he says. I scoff at him.
"Really? How? Call it Toby and coax it over with a bone?"
Miles laughs, looking down.
"Not every passion can be coaxed with a bone."
"You should write fortune cookies," I say with a smile. He smiles back then looks down.
"Strange, don't you think, that you didn't say real estate as one of your passions."
"Mm, but you didn't say café work is one of yours."
"Yes, but your job doesn't have to be your passion. As long as you have something else. You don't seem to have anything but work in your life. I may work in a café but I still get to read about travel and rehabilitate dogs and do my music. It's all about balance really isn't it?"
"What I thought was interesting, is that neither of you two mentioned family or friends as a passion." Tina pipes up. I look at Miles, realising she's right. Miles though is focusing on the floor, looking deep in thought.
So...family is a touchy subject to him also. Good to know.
"So the plan?" I ask him so as to change the subject. He drags those mysterious bluey eyes off the floor and onto me.
"Hm? Oh. The same."
"Right. Go to Tassie. Sort things out. Find myself. Come back. Start over." I nod, feeling overwhelmed again, "How hard can it be?"
Miles gives a knowing smile.
"You don't want to know." he tells me. Not the confidence I need right now.