Some Like It Greek - Sue Roberts Page 0,1

last year’s Christmas drinks party for example, when someone drunkenly played ‘pin the tail on the elf’ and tripped, pin in hand, into our startled CEO, (who’d popped in for a quick drink) and almost had his eye out. That was just before they puked over his shoes.

I know I ought to be feeling something about this big meeting; it will be strange to consider leaving this place after twelve years, which is a long time really. I’ve come to realise recently, though, that things in life can suddenly change. I lost my dad a few weeks ago to a sudden heart attack. I seem to be experiencing the grief in waves, so have largely been functioning quite normally, but I’ve found myself dwelling over my life choices, and questioning whether I am happy in the same job I’ve been doing for the last twelve years. Maybe the redundancy is the impetus I need to do something about it.

‘How are you feeling now that the funeral is over?’ Roz asks sincerely as we finish our food, as if she senses the turn in my thoughts. ‘I still can’t believe it. He was such a lovely man. I’m surprised you’re in work, actually.’

It’s strange to hear someone offering condolences about my father. At times I don’t think it’s quite sunk in that he’s no longer here.

‘I’m OK, thanks. And what else would I be doing?’ I reply, hoping I don’t sound too unfeeling. ‘Once the funeral was over, I would only have been sitting at home with my thoughts.’

Which were the last thing I wanted to confront.

‘I’ve got to go and sort Dad’s stuff out at the house at the weekend. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it,’ I tell Roz, who reaches across the table and hugs me.

Truth be told, I’m dreading it. Things between my sister Liz and I have been tense since our argument at the funeral, but we’ve decided via text that I’ll go to Dad’s house on Saturday to sort through some of his things. I’m still hurt by some of the harsh things she said to me as we were packing up after the wake, but I know that I should try to patch things up soon. She accused me of having been distant for the last few years and of leaving her to look after Dad. I was shocked to hear it, as I spent a lot of time with Dad – only maybe not while Liz was there to see it. Now I can’t help wondering whether it was enough, and feeling guilty that he might ever have thought I wasn’t there for him. The inheritance is fairly simple: Mum passed away a few years ago from cancer and Dad has left everything equally between Liz and me, so thankfully that won’t cause any more tensions between us. Not for the first time, I wish they’d just sold the house and spent the money travelling the world, leaving us with a photo album crammed full of memories of their adventures.

I’m still thinking about Dad as I enter the huge conference room for the meeting. Someone offers me a seat but I decline, opting to stand at the back of the tightly packed room with Roz.

After a few minutes, our CEO, Bill Tyler, enters the room. Roz has a strong – thankfully undeclared – crush on him, and I have to admit he’s looking as attractive as ever in a sharp grey suit that matches the colour of the hair around his temples, giving his somewhat boyish face a more distinguished look. Bill doesn’t often call in to the office these days, and the anxious people in the conference room realise that this must be something serious. He goes over to the long oval conference table where senior members of staff are seated and greets everyone with a somewhat strained smile.

‘Good afternoon, all, and thanks for coming.’ His eyes briefly scan the crowded room before he glances down at some papers in front of him.

‘As if we had any choice,’ Roz whispers, as she twists a strand of hair around her fingers.

‘Right, folks, I imagine you’re all wondering what this is about so I’m going to get straight to the point. There’s no way to sugar-coat it; our finances are not healthy. We’ve been on a downward trend for the last few quarters and after the most recent forecast, I’m afraid now is the time to take action.’

This draws mutterings from the gathering.

‘At