‘Too busy? You were too busy to call, is that what it is?’ Jaye realised he sounded like a petulant teenager.
They were going round in circles here. The elephant in the room was growing larger by the minute, and threatening to crush them both.
‘Look, Megan. I’m not your grandmother, and you don’t need to phone for a Sunday afternoon chat every week. But I do need to know if you’re unhappy at work.’
‘You’re the one who said I’m unhappy...’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Yes, right now I’m very unhappy. Because there are real problems here, and all you can do is swan in and ask me why I didn’t call.’
‘Because it’s a serious point. If you want to work with me, then you have to communicate with me, and if I’m going to be faced with a wall of silence...’ She hadn’t called because the kiss had meant something to her. The thought crashed into Jaye’s mind, leaving him trembling from the shock of it.
‘Right.’ She got to her feet. Jaye was tempted to tell her to sit down because he wasn’t finished, but couldn’t think of anything else constructive that he wanted to say.
‘I’ll communicate. Let’s see how you handle that, shall we?’ She turned, stalking out of the office and banging the door behind her, the glass pane in the top half of it rattling as she did so.
‘Good. I’m looking forward to seeing how you handle it.’ Jaye threw the words after her, although he doubted she’d hear, and slumped back into his chair, his head in his hands.
‘That went well.’ He chided himself with the thought that he’d completely mismanaged the conversation. From both a professional and a personal point of view. He’d had a perfectly good point to make, but he’d craved some kind of reaction and he’d pushed her too hard.
Someone tapped on the door. ‘What now?’
He looked up, and saw the bright flash of a sari behind the obscure glass. ‘I’m sorry... Come in, Ranjini.’
Ranjini floated into the office, as calm and unflappable as ever. ‘I will give your apology back to you since it is directed at the wrong person.’
‘You heard?’
‘We have had too many raised voices and slammed doors here, Jayananda. I asked you to come, believing you would restore calm.’
Ranjini only called him by his full name when she wanted to reprove him. And right now she had a very good point.
‘Yes, I know.’ Jaye shook his head, trying to think clearly. ‘I’m...pretty jet-lagged. I know that’s no excuse and that Megan’s tired too. I’m going to apologise.’
Ranjini nodded, as if the apology was all his idea but one she thoroughly approved of. She’d been giving him that nod for nearly thirty years, ever since she’d been a teenager who’d babysat Jaye and his younger brothers when the family had been in Sri Lanka. When he thought about it, his behaviour hadn’t improved all that much since then.
‘I think that would be a good idea. I wouldn’t want to lose Megan, she has been a great gift to us over the last month. She has resolved many difficult issues and worked very hard.’
Guilt throbbed at Jaye’s temple. Whatever Megan thought of him, she was a valuable member of staff here. He’d had no right to upset her, however tired and hurt he felt.
‘All right. Message received. I’m going to go and eat a large helping of humble pie. You won’t lose her.’ However angry Megan was, it would pass. And when it did, her commitment to all she could do here would resurface.
‘Let her take some time alone. She will reach a point of greater balance. As will you.’
Jaye doubted it. But, then, Ranjini knew both him and Megan a lot better than they knew each other. Even if it did feel as if they’d looked into each other’s souls during those four days they’d spent together.
Ranjini settled back into her chair. ‘How are your parents? The last I heard from your mother was that she had a frozen shoulder, but that it was improving?’
‘Yes, she’s been having physiotherapy and it’s much better now.’ Ranjini was right in this, too. His own temper was still simmering uncertainly beneath the surface, and he needed to think about something else for
a while.
Jaye reached for the bag that he’d dumped by the side of the desk, drawing out the brightly coloured parcel. ‘Mum sent this for you. She hopes you like it.’
‘Oh! Such pretty paper! What is it?’
‘I don’t know. And if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. That’s the whole point of wrapping it up. Mum wears the scarf you sent her all the time.’