Eleanor looked as though she wanted to say something more, but she merely repeated, “You know that within the first two years we have the right to let you go at any time and for any reason. You’ve been here eighteen months.”
“But . . .”
She stood up. Clearly our meeting was at an end. She touched the envelope in the box. “I’ve written you a short reference and there’s a check for this month’s salary, a month’s notice, and any outstanding holiday pay, too.”
I stood, too, not knowing what to do or say. She passed me the box and ushered me to the door. I saw a couple of friends walking in, hurrying when they saw Eleanor. I could tell she was tempted to chase after them to remind them to be on time, but instead she stood on guard at the door, watching as I walked to my car.
* * *
? ? ?
Rage hit me as I drove away. I’d never been fired before; my work was always well done and I hadn’t had a day’s absence in the eighteen months I’d worked there. I didn’t let myself acknowledge that that was because I hadn’t wanted to miss a day with Harry. I drove to a supermarket car park a couple of miles away and parked as far as I could from anyone else. My heart pounded as I took out my phone.
I was so filled with shame and rage that although I’d promised I’d never do this while he was still with Emma, I dialed Harry’s mobile number. Immediately, his voice boomed out.
“Hi,” he said.
My heart banged. “Harry?”
And then he continued. “This is Harry Sheridan. You’ve reached my voice mail. Please leave a message.”
I managed to control myself. I knew I mustn’t leave a message. Quickly I ended the call and tapped in Harry’s direct number at work. After two rings the call was picked up.
“Good morning, Harry Sheridan’s office.”
I held my breath for a second. It wasn’t him. I recognized the voice; it was Paula, Eleanor’s assistant. We weren’t exactly friends, but we got along okay.
“Paula? It’s me, Ruby.”
“Oh,” she said, and my heart sank. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Did you want something?”
“Can I speak to Harry?” I wasn’t even going to pretend that I didn’t know why she was odd with me. “Can you put me through?”
She gave a sharp intake of breath, as though this was personally affecting her. “I’m sorry. All of Mr. Sheridan’s calls are coming through me now.” There was a pause and then she said formally, “Would you like to leave a message?”
For a split second I thought of giving her the message I really wanted to pass on and Paula going to the cafeteria at lunchtime and repeating it to everyone, but I managed to restrain myself.
“That’s all right,” I said politely. “Don’t worry.”
I ended the call before she could. It was the only satisfaction I could take.
* * *
? ? ?
I went back to the hotel then, not sure what to do. I stopped at reception on my way in and asked whether anyone had called, but they hadn’t. There was no reason why Harry would have called the hotel, but I always felt I had to ask. I hurried to my room, still hoping he’d be there, and as I turned the corner I saw the door to my room was open. My heart leaped but then the maid came out, pushing a laundry cart laden with fresh towels and toiletries. We said hello and she left the door open. I could see in an instant that he hadn’t been there.
I sat on the bed and opened the envelope, just in case Harry had left a message for me. Of course he hadn’t. The reference was signed by Eleanor and was brief enough to make my face smart. It would be clear to anyone that I hadn’t left of my own accord. I pulled everything out of the box. It was humiliating to think of someone going through my desk like that, packing up my things, knowing I’d been