Held To Ransome

First Aid

"If I were you Callie, I'd take the money and run. It's only going to get worse. This might just be the change you need."

Callie Anderson was standing in her Boss, Shaun's office, on a sunny Tuesday afternoon in April. She'd been off for twelve weeks.

It had started with a simple enough incident - he'd moved report deadline forward (for the fourth time) and ended with her throwing her stapler at him. Narrowly missing him, she'd smashed a plate glass window as she stormed out. She was found a few minutes later by Shaun's PA, in the ladies' toilet crying hysterically and screaming bloody murder.

She'd spent the following days and weeks sitting in her house with the curtains drawn, watching daytime tv. She replaced business suits with pyjamas and power lunches with toasties. Slowly and surely, burnt out mentally and desperately exhausted she fell apart.

Now, after several doctors appointments, counselling phone calls and one very awkward HR 'chat', she had been offered medical severance pay. Three months in lieu, full pension preservation, and a reference whenever she decided she was ready to work again.

Now, Callie knew her crossroads had come. Move sideways into the Doldrums and simply spend the rest of her days mulling over what might have been. Or she could cross the road and head off into a new tomorrow.

"Ok." She walked to the window and looked out. "Ok." She hung her head. "I AM sorry, Shaun. You DO know that, dont you?" She turned and looked at him.

He was tall, dark, and very young. The youngest manager in the company. He'd come into investment management on an apprenticeship and never looked back. He had the car, the flat and the girlfriend. He also had one of the best fund managers in the business. Callie.

Callie was the poster girl for the 'perfect' working woman. She was personable, strong, intelligent, and incredibly good at her job. She had a busy work life, spent every evening at the gym pretending to de-stress, slowly getting more and more wound up. As she climbed the ladder, she had to work twice as hard and twice as long. Equality? That was for other people. Eventually, something had to give. That something was her mind.

Shaun stood and walked over to her. She wasn't much older than him, maybe five or six years, but she seemed so much more worn out. He put a concerned hand on her shoulder, and she smiled.

"You have nothing to apologise for Callie, really and truly. We're all human. We all need a little help sometimes, a little understanding. I think it's time to put yourself first. Do you have any idea what you will do?"

He guided her back to the desk and sat her down. "I want you to keep in touch. Not with the "company" , no. With me Callie, as a friend I have to know you're ok."

"Thanks, Shaun. I'd like that. I think I do actually know. There's a little village on the coast of Essex I visited once a long, long time ago. It's always been on my mind. There was just this connection. I might start there. Do a bit of writing. Or painting. Not that I can paint, but I can try! After all, if people can get millions for splatters of paint!"

For the first time, they both smiled.

"Callie, take time. Relax, recover. Find yourself. Who knows what - or who else might turn up in the process?" He stood and opened the door as she made to leave. "Throw caution to the wind, act on impulse, dance in the rain!"

"You make it sound like a cheesy romcom!" She laughed, genuinely feeling a peace she hadn't had for a long time.

"Well, you could always write one! Now, HR will be in touch with the details, but like I say, keep in touch, ok?"

He stood back, and she knew this was it. Taking a breath, she nodded and walked away. As she passed through the office, most people avoided her gaze. She'd become invisible, the stigma of her outburst still plain to see. One or two who couldn't, just offered an embarrassed and apologetic smile. Callie actually felt more sorry for them than herself. It must be hard, coming to terms with the fact you worked with a nutcase.

As she reached the lifts, a voice behind her made her turn. "Callie?"

She briefly closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts. Then she opened them and turned with a smile.
Standing behind her was a woman, similar age, similar story. Except for the stapler.

"Brenda. Good to see you." She smiled an understanding smile. She could see herself six months before. "I came in to resign. I won't be back. " she held out a hand, and Brenda's face fell.

"Oh. Gonna miss you!" Her eyes filled with tears."Take care, ok?" Shw stepped back, and the lift doors opened.

"You get out, Brenda. Don't make the mistake I made. Be good to yourself, Brenda." She smiled and raised her hand as the doors slid shut.

The familiar yet strange woman staring back at her in the reflection smiled sadly. She had blonde wavy hair that used to be straight and sharp. Eyes that could be blue or green depending on her mood, but today were just sunken. All fixable, just relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

The important stuff? Her mind. Her heart. Her soul. She knew they needed peace. She knew just where to find it, too.

Walking through the glass and steel lobby and into the sunshine, she took a breath. Looking up, she saw blue sky and white clouds. This, this was what she wanted.

Essex would give it to her in spades. Quiet. Peaceful. Uncomplicated. Ultimately lonely.

She couldn't have been more wrong.