Okay, welfare check. Deep breaths Abbey. Deep breaths. You can do this. The three of us had a board meeting last night over a 20-year-old bottle of Scotch. My brother confessed his sins. We decided that this was the way forward. I know you will do an amazing job. Your new EA starts at 8. Her name is Monica. Text me back in five minutes, so I know you’re okay. Also, make sure you’re not sitting at your old desk when people start coming in. Power is perception, Abbey.
Power was perception. He was certainly right about that. I instinctively looked down at my outfit. I had on a burgundy suit today, with a conservative black top, an attempt on my part to make sure that nothing would distract Nick and I from the conversation I’d been planning. Did I even look like someone who could run a company?
What were they even thinking?Oh, my God.I was prepared to admit to having a moment of panic. But it was important in situations like this not to be feeble.You are a Cavendish woman, Abigail.
I stood on legs that felt as if they had not been used for some time. I logged off from my computer, grabbed my handbag, the photo of Ella that sat on my desk, and my favourite pen. I felt a thousand years old.
I opened the door to the huge office. Eric’s office, Nick’s office, Oliver’s office and nowmyoffice? I pushed in the visitor’s chair I had been sitting at while I waited for Nick and walked around to the padded tan leather chair that, when I sat down, I realised I would have to adjust because my feet would not touch the floor.
There was an envelope on the keyboard that I had not seen from the other side. Purposefully placed so I would have to be sitting in this seat to see it. My name was scrawled on it in Nick’s heavy handwriting. He wrote the way he conducted himself, with authority and purpose, his penmanship bold and black. I opened it slowly.
If I could give anyone everything, every part of me, it would be you. N xx
I brought the paper up to my face and closed my eyes, letting myself feel the heartbreak of that for just a minute. I swear I could smell him on the paper, though that was probably in my imagination. A huge, hollow, achy lump was in my chest.
The phone on the desk rang, making me jump, and I looked at it for a second before picking up and said, ‘Abigail Parker’ with as much authority as I could muster.
‘So you are alive. Security says the first of the execs is on the way up. Time to get your head in the game, Abbey. I have full faith that you can do this and kick arse. I’ll call you Friday, but if you need me, I’m here.’ Ollie hung up.
I turned on the computer. Time to focus. I wasn’t certain if I would still need to reschedule Nick’s meetings for today or what would happen.
There was a knock on the door. An extremely well-dressed woman in her mid-fifties entered. She had a beautiful, friendly face, her skin a lovely milky colour, and she wore bright-green glasses, which set off eyes of the same colour. Her red suit was cut perfectly, and I had the innate sense we were going to get along, just from looking at her.
‘Ms Parker,’ she said with a regional British accent I couldn’t identify. ‘My name is Monica Galthorpe. I’m Mr Northby’s EA in London. I was in Australia delivering something that he needed. He’s asked me to stay and support you in your new role here for the next few months.’ Monica stopped before she added politely, ‘If that is agreeable to you?’
‘It’s nice to meet you, Monica. Thank you for agreeing to do that. I hope it hasn’t inconvenienced your family?’
‘Oh, not at all. My son, Michael, is at university now, he’s twenty. He can manage on his own for a few weeks. It was Mr Northby who got him his position at university anyway, so I owe him one. Anyway, should we get to work, Ms Parker?’
‘It’s Abbey, Monica. Just Abbey is fine.’
‘He said you’d say that,’ she said, laughing. ‘I’ve rescheduled all your meetings for today except for the executive meeting, which I’ve moved back an hour to give you time to prepare. You ready?’
‘Yes,’ I said, and my voice was firm and confident.
***
I left at half past six that night, exhausted but exhilarated. There was naturally more than a little interest amongst my fellow employees in my promotion, but having worked with most of them for a long time, they accepted it with grace. If they talked about me or my relationship with the Northbys, they did so behind my back.
Having planned the schedule with Nick last week, I was as prepared for the meetings as he would have been and I spent the day writing notes for myself on delivering the key messages, in a tone that reflected me and not him.
There was, thankfully, not much spare time for reflection on just how much I missed him. Bathroom breaks and a very sentimental pot of tea were all I afforded myself.
I missed him as if someone had cut off my arm, though. Weird, then, that in gifting me this role, I also felt incredibly loved and valued. But somehow that made it all the more heart-wrenching.
I made a quick call to Ella in the lift to let her know I would be late, but there was dinner for her to reheat in the fridge. She was planning on eating while watching a video of a lung transplant, which was being live-streamed on YouTube. I told her that was gross, but she seemed happy.
Of course, one of the perks of the top job was Keith, the driver, and the car. It was a privilege that overwhelmed me, but it was extremely convenient tonight because it meant I could head straight to Iris before heading home.
Dinner was being cleared from the resident’s rooms and the slightly unpleasant smell of overcooked vegetables and purees filled the hall. Iris was lying on her bed with her headphones in. The flush in her cheeks, the slight shake of her head and knowing smile told me she was listening to something racy.
She looked thinner than she had even yesterday; she was wearing the shirt she had on the last time I took her to the café, and it was swimming on her. She was paler than yesterday as well, fading into the white shirt.
Her eyes opened, her eyebrows raised, and her smile lit up when she saw me. ‘Abigail.’
‘Hi, Gran.’
‘You just missed your boy.’
