Lindsey
I spent my summer, as I always had; on the coast. Well, it was a kind of coast. Just not the one you might be imagining.
Like a human lighthouse, I stood alone. Always on the edge of a landscape filled with 'hard working Mums'. In the office, I was the shining beacon of reliability while keeping watch over a choppy sea of deadlines.
Sometimes, I was dangerously ignored.
It seemed almost everyone had set sail on their summer holidays, without so much as a backwards glance, or a fond farewell. In the absence of my manager, I still made sure a steady wave of calls were dealt with, and that other people’s projects didn’t crash on to the rocks.
Of course, it wasn’t long before people returned and, with that, any glimmer of childless confidence was eclipsed. Tales of balcony views, bonnie babies, family beach adventures, and all-you-can-eat breakfasts, bounced around the cavernous office walls. Photos and videos were offloaded around me, like unwanted cargo. Curious edible gifts from far flung places were handed round like treasure.
It was September next week and parents would be firmly anchored in their school term rituals. Fresh work would suddenly pile on to shore.
Still blinkered by their own travels, it seemed nobody had remembered approving dates, all those weeks ago, for my impending, albeit childless, ‘Bon Voyage’.
I sat silent and stoic amongst the chaos, until Friday rolled around. I worked late until dusk, and it was just my manager and I, left in the office.
“Now you’re all back,” I announced to my audience of one, pausing for dramatic effect, “Just reminding you that I’m on holiday for a couple of weeks.”
Snapping my laptop shut, I stood up and quickly grabbed my jacket.
“You’re away?” my manager spluttered, as she hurried back to her office, to check her calendar. As I walked by her door, to leave, her eyes darkened at me, with an intense disapproval as she realised what she had done. “I had forgotten. You know that’s made things difficult. It’s a busy time after the holidays. I’m going to have to look at resources.”
All that time covering for everyone else. Their holidays, their emergency kids’ appointments. Having to leave early, get in late because of their school run. I felt more than a flash of annoyance. “I’m sorry about that, it seemed so far in the distance and then, suddenly, almost out of nowhere, it crept up on me.”
As I turned to leave, I called out, “Shall I switch the light off, on my way out?”
