Remember Me?

Remember Me? Page 74

“Absolutely.” They aren't even acknowledging me. No one wants to know. I watch, my legs watery, as the directors file back into the boardroom. “Lexi.” Simon is in front of me. “I admire your loyalty to your department. But you cannot behave like this at directors' meetings.” There's steel beneath his pleasant voice; I can tell he's furious. “Simon, I'm sorry...” I swallow. “Now, I know things have been tricky for you since your accident.” He pauses. “So what I suggest is you take three months' paid leave. And when you return, we'll find you a more... suitable role within the company. All right?” All the blood drains from my face. He's demoting me. “I'm fine,” I say quickly. “I don't need any leave” “I think you do.” He sighs. “Lexi, I'm truly sorry about how things have gone. If you recovered your memory, then things would be different, but Byron's been filling me in on your situation. You're not up to a senior position right now.” There's an absolute finality in his voice. “Fine,” I manage at last. “I understand.” “Now, you might want to go down to your department. Since you weren't here”he pauses meaningfully“I gave Byron the task of breaking the unfortunate news to them.” Byron? With a final curt nod, Simon disappears into the boardroom. I watch the door as though pinioned to the floor then with a sudden burst of panic, run to the lift. I can't let Byron tell them the bad news. I have to do that myself, at least. In the lift, I punch Byron's direct line into my cell phone and get his voice mail. “Byron!” I say, my voice quivering with urgency. “Don't tell the department about the redundancies yet, okay? I want to do it myself. Repeat, do not tell them.“ Without looking right or left I pelt out of the lift, into my office, and close the door. I'm shaking all over. I've never been so petrified in my life. How am I going to break the news? What am I going to say? How do you tell all your friends they're losing their jobs? I pace around my office, twisting my hands, feeling like I might throw up. This is worse than any exam, any test, anything I've ever done And then a sound alerts me. A voice outside the door. ”Is she in there?“ ”Where's Lexi?“ chimes in another voice. ”Is she hiding? Bitch.“ For an instant I consider diving under the sofa and never coming out. ”Is she still upstairs?“ The voices are getting louder outside my door. ”No, I saw her! She's in there! Lexi! Come out here!“ Someone bangs on the door, making me flinch. Somehow I force myself to move forward across the carpet. Gingerly I stretch out a hand and open the door. They know. They're all standing there. All fifteen members of the Flooring department, silent and reproachful. Fi is at the front, her eyes like stone. ”It... it wasn't me,“ I stammer desperately. ”Please listen, 300 everyone. Please understand. It wasn't my decision. I tried t o . . . I was going t o . . . “ I trail off. I'm the boss. The bottom line is, it was down to me to save the department. And I failed. ”I'm sorry,“ I whisper, tears filling my eyes, looking from face to unrelenting face. ”I'm so, so sorry...” There's silence. I think I might melt under the hatred of their gazes. Then, as though at a signal, they all turn and silently walk away. My legs like jelly, I back toward my desk and sink into my chair. How did Byron break it to everybody? What did he say? And then suddenly I spot it in my inbox. A round-?robin e-?mail under the heading: COLLEAGUESSOME BAD NEWS.

With trepidation I click on the e-?mail, and as I read the words, I give a whimper of despair. This went out? Under my name? To all colleagues in Flooring As you may have noticed, the performance of Flooring has been appalling of late. It has been decided by senior management to disband the department. You will all therefore be made redundant in June. In the meantime, Lexi and I would be grateful if you would work with improved efficiency and standards. Remember, we'll be giving your references, so no slacking or taking the piss. Yours, Byron and Lexi OK. Now I want to shoot myself.

When I arrive home Eric is sitting on the terrace in the evening sun. He's reading the Evening Standard and sipping a gin and tonic. He looks up from the paper. “Good day?” “To be honest... no,” I say, my voice quivering. “It was a pretty terrible day. The entire department is being fired.” As I say the words out loud I can't help itI dissolve into tears. “All my friends. They're all losing their jobs. And they all hate me... and I don't blame them ” “Darling.” Eric puts down his paper. “It's business. These things happen.” “I know. But these are my friends. I've known Fi since I was six.” Eric seems to be thinking as he sips his drink. At last he shrugs and turns back to the paper. “Like I say, these things happen.” “They don't just happen.” I shake my head vehemently. “You stop them from happening. You fight.” “Sweetheart.” Eric appears amused. “You still have your job, don't you?” “Yes.” “The company's not collapsing, is it?” “No.”