Follow My Lead Episode 22
“What’s happened?”
Lydia and Basil were seated opposite each other – not over dinner in the restaurant she’d envisaged, but over paper cups of coffee in the sandwich shop nearest the office.
She’d steered him there without resistance. He’d seemed in a daze when he emerged from the lift.
She’d ordered him black coffee with an extra shot.
He sat there, his hands clasped around it, gazing unseeingly somewhere over her shoulder.
How long had she known him? Too many years to count.
She’d seen him in countless moods. He could be furious, impatient and exasperating. He could be full of bluster, yet unbelievably kind.
But she’d never seen him like this.
“Basil! What’s wrong?” Her voice was sharp.
He blinked and it broke the trance.
“I’ve been made redundant,” he mumbled. “Just like that.”
Lydia nodded. It was what she had suspected.
“I see.” What else could she say?
She let the silence lengthen, and finally he began to talk.
“HR asked me to pop in just before you arrived.
“I thought it was going to be an update on the situation, a review of figures – you know the kind of thing.”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know why it’s such a shock. I knew this was coming.” He met her eyes. “I told you that it would be my turn soon.”
His gaze slid down to the table.
“I just wasn’t ready for it to be now.”
Around them customers came and went. Lydia was grateful for the hubbub – silence would have been overwhelming.
She reached out a hand and cupped his, and was struck by the unusual intimacy of the gesture. She couldn’t remember if they’d ever touched before.
He looked up at her, his expression bleak.
“What am I going to do, Lydia?” he asked. “I’ve no family, no wife and kids.
“It never mattered before. My work has been my life. Without that . . .”
Her thoughts were in turmoil. Should she point out that she’d just been through this? That she was in the same situation?
It wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear right now.
“You just said it, Basil,” she told him firmly. “Your work has been your life. Not your job – that was simply earning a living.
“Writing, though – that’s always been your passion,” she went on.
“Yet think how often you’ve complained to me that you never have time for it these days.
“Now you can devote as much time to it as you want. You can finally write your great novel.
“Write three!” she finished with a laugh.
She was relieved to see his face lighten, and he almost smiled.
“Maybe.”
She became aware that the noises around them had changed in character.
The staff were beginning to clean up. It seemed like they might be closing soon.
Basil hadn’t touched his coffee, so she nudged it towards him.
“Drink up before it goes cold.”
She raised her own, grimacing slightly.
“Too late.”
He threw his back in one gulp, then tossed the cup into a bin across the aisle.
“That’s us, Lydia. We’re on the trash heap.”
“Speak for yourself,” she retorted indignantly, which made him smile again.
She seized on the glimmer of his old spirit.
“It’s time for plain speaking,” she began. “You and I have come to the end of our careers as we knew them, but so what?
“We’re in a better situation than lots of people. We’ve good pensions, for a start, and a decent redundancy package.
“You live in your smart house, but I know it’s all bought and paid for. So you have financial security.
“We have our health and, speaking personally, I have all my marbles.” Lydia grinned. “I can’t speak for you, of course . . .”
His uncertain smile became a chuckle.
“We can let this current set of circumstances overwhelm us or fight back,” Lydia continued. “I’ve never been one to back down from a fight, have you?”
“Are you saying I should fight to get my job back?”
She shook her head.
“I’m saying we should see this as an opportunity for a fresh start,” she explained. “A chance to try something different.”