‘I know this must come as a shock, Eliza, but remember, one door closes, another opens. I’m doing you a favour, if you ask me. Let’s face facts – you’re stuck in a rut. What have you done with your life so far? It’s time you stepped outside your comfort zone. I’m a risk-taker by nature, so it’s easy for me to say this, but in my opinion it will do you good to try something new, spread your wings. Once you get over that silly fear of flying, of course!’ She laughed again.

Eliza was suddenly glad she’d never explained what had triggered her fear of flying, why she hadn’t flown since she was seventeen years old.

Gillian handed Eliza a copy of her severance agreement. ‘You can get legal advice at your own expense, but I assure you it’s watertight.’

‘Thank you,’ Eliza said, taking it.

‘That’s it? “Thank you”?’ Gillian’s expression hardened. ‘I have to say your response is, frankly, disappointing. After everything I’ve done for you. I took a chance on you as a graduate. You have my name on your CV. This deal is also wonderful news for me as a woman. Yet you haven’t even said congratulations. I thought we were friends. Now I’m not sure.’

Eliza watched silently as her boss stalked off. Alone at her desk, she read the five-page document. She’d negotiated enough contracts to realise there was no point disputing it.

Her colleagues arrived before nine a.m. They were cheerful, talking about their weekends. All in their twenties, hardworking, enthusiastic. At nine-ten, Gillian called them together.

There was shock, even tears, from the younger ones. Gillian had their severance agreements ready too. It was wonderful news, she insisted. She kept giving the fake laugh Eliza was starting to hate.

At ten a.m., Gillian called her in. She’d drafted an email announcing the takeover. She instructed Eliza to send it to all their contacts: clients, venue managers, speakers’ agencies, business media. It was upbeat, announcing a wonderful success story, a small Australian company sought after by an international leader in the field. It glossed over the redundancies. Only Gillian was named and quoted. ‘I am very proud of my achievements and so excited for what the future may hold for me.’

The calls flooded in as soon as the email was sent. Mostly from clients who already had conference contracts with them, concerned about their future. Eliza transferred them all to Gillian. Twice, Gillian called her in, crossly saying that surely Eliza could handle ‘the minor ones’.

Eliza knew what she wanted to say. ‘But it’s you they want to speak to. It’s your company. Your big news.’ She didn’t, of course. It wasn’t her way. She preferred to stay quiet. Hide her feelings.

She left the office at six, one hour earlier than normal. Gillian had left at five, as usual. Eliza would have followed, but one of her younger colleagues came to her, upset, asking for help to update her CV. Afterwards, she gave Eliza a hug. ‘You’re the one we’ll all miss. We hope she falls apart without you.’