How she’d wrapped her dainty little fingers around my heart and stolen it. Rick’s too.
I wanted to say all those things, but when David pulled a handful of golden envelopes from his pocket and called the first of the star performers up to claim one, I said nothing, did nothing.
Katie pulled her hand from mine when she realised the inevitable, and I expected her to bail before he called her name, turn tail and disappear to sleight him, leaving him standing with a golden envelope in his hand and egg on his face. She didn’t. She stood still, stern-faced and tense, but rooted to the spot.
I started up an applause when Ryan’s name was called, and his smile lit up the room as he collected his envelope. David shook his hand, congratulated him on an exceptional result, two sterling leads in the first stage of training was impressive, he said, very well done indeed, he said.
And then he turned his attention to Katie with one remaining envelope in his hand.
His smile was bright, and his eyes were warm and proud. It pained me somewhere deep to see the chasm of disconnection between father and daughter.
“Katie,” he said, and he beckoned her. “Please, come and get your prize.”
There was so much emphasis on theplease, a quiet desperation, the tone of a man eager to bridge a divide and make it right. Katie didn’t move, and my heart was in my throat, my hand on her back to encourage her forward. She resisted, but only for a moment, taking slow steps in her fancy heels, looking mature and professional in her suit as she made her way to him.
Her smile was stilted and her hand was tense and awkward as she shook his. I saw the flash of emotion across his face as she dropped her eyes to the floor.
My heart broke a little for him, and it broke for her, too. For the love waiting right there for her, imperfect love from a man who meant it, a man who’d made his mistakes and lived to regret them, a man who was good and kind in the heart of him, a man who wanted to be there.
A man who’d tried to be there, and failed.
I thought he would admit defeat and let her go with nothing more than an awkward handshake, but I should have known better than that. He handed her the envelope, and took advantage of the moment. My breath choked as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him, even though she was stiff as a board. The applause erupted, but his words carried, just loud enough to hear.
I’m so proud of you, he said.I’m so very proud.
And then he let her go.
She dithered for a moment, clutching that envelope in her fingers, a flicker of emotion on her face before her guard came back up. She nodded and thanked him, and then she backed away, retreating to her desk to a fanfare of congratulations from her colleagues.
David made his exit with a final thanks, and I took the floor, reiterating everything he’d said about their hard work and how impressed I’d been with their attitude and dedication over a tough start to the programme.
I sought out every pair of eyes, every eager smile, thanking all of them personally and individually, finding something worthwhile to say for every one of them.
Until I came to Verity’s empty chair.
I scanned the desks, back and forth, trying to locate her amongst the others, but she was nowhere to be seen.
I set everyone the task of grabbing a coffee and an informal discussion amongst themselves before the week wound up early, and I headed out to the kitchen, and further to the toilets. Still there was no sign of her. Her bag was still in the footwell of her desk, her scarf still draped over her chair, and a glance through the front window showed her sporty little Audi still in her parking space.
A couple of admin girls were chatting by the photocopier in the corridor outside, and I asked if they’d seen her.
About ten minutes ago.They pointed to the stationery storage and server rooms. Went that way.
I found little princess Verity behind a stack of envelope boxes, crouched on the floor with her face in her hands, sobbing her heart out like the whole world was ending. I dropped to a crouch beside her, and she let out a ghastly wail.
“Go away!” she said. “Please, just go away!”
But that’s not my style.
I waited until the sobs eased off a little, waited until she pulled her hands from her face and stared at me with puffy eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head.
I dropped to my ass, indicating I wasn’t going anywhere. “If this is about the leaderboard, you needn’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve had some great conversations this week, I’ve heard you. You’ll get your lead any day now, you just didn’t get your break today.”
“I can’t do it!” she cried. “I just can’t!”