long way home // luke hemmings

Chapter One

       Silence fills the room as I walk in. Mr. Barker swiveled around in his leather office chair as I entered. "Ah, Sydney, welcome, come in," he stands up to greet me, gesturing me to enter and quickly sits back down, clearing his throat. I hold my work notepad and pen in my hand, which he had so kindly provided for me ever since I started working for him. In the couple seconds that I've seen his face, I've noticed that he isn't as chipper as he usually is. Mr. Barker is a joy to work with, and he's never had to call me in for work unless it was for work. However, when he called me this morning and had asked me to come in to 'talk', I was unarguably nervous.

         "Take a seat," he ushers, and I sit down on the client's chair on the left side of his table, opposite to him. "Good morning, sir," I smile nervously. "Is there a new piece you want me to check out?" "Uh, no, actually," he stutters, which is quite odd since I've never seen him so unsure. He barely looks up at me before he continues talking.

         He laces his fingers together and uses his elbows to prop himself up on his desk, still, looking down. I feel my heart beat faster, almost like I could hear it. I wonder if he could. "Let me just say what a wonder it has been to work with you," he tries to smile. "Your taste is impeccable and I have never doubted your instincts one bit. You've filled my home with colour, literally, and I thank you for that."

         "My business, however," he continues. "Might require me to London." He finally looks up at me with an empathetic, almost worried look on his face. My eyes widen as I'm taken aback by this sudden news. "Wow," I stutter. "Congratulations, sir." I try to form even just a small smile, but I'm more confused than anything. "Yes it's great news, however, I'm having trouble parting with my on-call staff, such as yourself," he nods.

         "Yes, I guess that kind of puts you in a tough spot," I say with a small chuckle to try and relieve some of the nervousness in my body. "Yeah," he sighs, prolonging the 'h'. "Some I've just had to let go, it would be too difficult to ask my entire staff to move, but you," he stops for a split second, with a sly smile almost like a smirk. "I really am in love with the art you pick. I find it impossible to meet another art consultant as talented as you." I blush at the sudden compliment.

"Thank you, sir, that's very flatter-," I start to say but I am cut-off by Mr. Barker's usual, chirpy voice. "So I was hoping you would come move with me?"

         His question leaves me speechless. My eyes widen and I utter a bunch of 'um's and 'uh's before he realizes my discomfort in the situation. "Oh, of course you don't have to give me an answer right away!" he assures, using his hands to try and calm me down. "Oh, okay," I nervously laugh. "Until when do I have?"

"Is two weeks enough?"

"Mhm."

I completely regret my answer upon realizing that I couldn't decide within two weeks if I was ready to uproot my whole life and move to, quite literally, the other side of the world to work for my boss. My family was here, and have been here my whole life. I had no significant other to leave behind, thankfully, so that was one less thing to worry about. But my apartment, well, partially soaked apartment, that was still under maintenance ever since a pipe burst in my bathroom two weeks ago in the dead of the night, filling my entire floor with about an inch or two of water. And in line with that, I couldn't afford to lose my job now, not with all the repairs.

I was so invested in my train of thought that I forgot all about Mr. Barker sitting in front of me. "Air fare will be taken care of by the company, and also your documents and papers. Really all you have to take care of is housing and living expenses. Ultimately it's really up to you to decide whether to take the job or not," he smiles. "No pressure." All I manage to choke out is a single 'thank you'. "And if you decide not to take the job, then the least I can do is help you find a job here where your talents won't be wasted. That's nice enough, I thought.

There's at least ten seconds of silence between us before I ask, "would that be all?" "Yes, yes, you may go ahead," he quickly answers. "I know this is a lot to take in so you can contact me or Sheila at any time." I nod and say my 'goodbye's and 'thank you's. He returns them before I walk out of his office.

Once I close the heavy wooden doors behind me, I quickly meet his assistant, Sheila's eyes as she sits behind her desk in front of her boss's office. She smiles at me and perhaps opens her mouth to say something to which I flash an uncomfortably toothy grin at her and continue walking out of her sight. I usually stay and chatter with her but I decided I wasn't in the right headspace to.

I quickly get to the end of the hall and press the downward arrow on the elevator button pad. I can barely stay still as I wait for the elevator. I look around the hall as if I hadn't already been here a hundred times. I can't refrain my left foot from tapping on the carpeted floors. I rub my thumbs together in circles while the rest of my fingers are laced, resting on my abdomen as I hold my jacket over them.

Once the elevator doors open, I'm relieved to see no one else is inside and I hurry in. I rest my body on the hand rails, laying my weight on my left arm while I bring my right hand to my forehead. The longer I spent in this building, the faster I felt the need to get out. However, the descent from the 19th floor would obviously take a while if you were trying to get to the carpark. Luckily, no one else rode along with me.

By the time I get to the carpark I'm practically running. I unlock my car and throw my jacket and purse to the passenger's side. I sink into the driver's seat while I let out a sigh. I close my eyes and lay my body forward, resting my head on the top of the steering wheel. Things have been going downhill for me too fast, and too close in proximity. I wasn't prepared to be given the ultimatum of move away or lose my job which is probably why I felt so uneasy in the Barker building.

My hands run up and down the sides of the steering wheel before I start my car and pull out of the car park. For a moment I think to head to the direction of my apartment, but let out a frustrated groan when I remember that my home is currently unlivable right now, and head the other way to my parents'.