Chapter Seventeen

Amber

When I open the front door twenty minutes later and walk through the hallway, I see the bag.

In the middle of the pile of shoes and stuff Finley had yanked out from under the stairs, there it sits.

‘What the hell?’ I grab it, pulling it free of the shoes. There’s no way I’d have missed it there. How could I have? And Leo, too? I’d been on my hands and knees shovelling all the stuff back. I’d have noticed a rucksack.

But I was rather stressed. And Leo wasn’t even looking properly.

God’s sake. If I make a detour to take it to school now, I’ll be late for work. Great start to Monday. Leo’s teacher was fine about it anyway, so it won’t hurt if I don’t take it. Leo was upset, but he’ll get over it – it’s probably already forgotten.

As I’m about to fling it back under the stairs, I remember the letter.

I check every zipped compartment. No letter.

Typical.

I have to go. I’ll ask Leo about it later. Maybe he took the letter out and put it somewhere “safe”.

I decide not to call Carl now as I’ve had enough stress already. I’ll do it this evening. I make some time up on the drive to work – no slow traffic, no tractors. And a parking space close to the entrance of the car park means I shave a little time off my walk to the optician’s. Hopefully my day is getting better.

My optimism wanes when I walk through the door, only to be greeted with stony faces and an accusatory glare from the boss, Henry. His wife, Olive, is standing beside him, her hand firmly on her hip.

They know.

I’m on the back foot – I wasn’t expecting this scenario to play out just yet.

‘Morning,’ I say. I carry on through the shop floor to the back room where we keep our bags and coats. I hang mine up, and while my back is turned, I try to plaster on a facial expression that fits with ‘I’m so sorry to land you in it,’ and ‘I’m sorry for not telling you myself.’

Who did tell them? When I turn back to face them, they’ve both disappeared.

That’s bad. They’re obviously really upset with me. I should’ve been upfront right from the beginning.

‘Olive?’ I call. ‘Henry?’

‘Why didn’t you say?’ I hear Olive’s soft, quiet voice. She’s in the doorway of the break room. ‘I don’t understand how you could keep it from us, Amber.’

‘I’m sorry, Olive.’ My posture sags. I really am sorry as I know they’ll feel let down. And I kept the move from them for my own selfish reasons. I didn’t think I’d feel this ashamed. ‘I honestly didn’t know how long it would all take, so didn’t want to be too premature in telling you. I’ve had no offers, so it could be months and months yet before I’d even need to give notice.’