Day 2

The meeting was dull and intensely stressful in a way that only something you know you should care about, but don’t, can be. The client was distracted – not by my tits- and seemed to have no particular reason for being there. Gemma did most of the talking, despite me being the lead, and that was fine by me. I resisted opening ‘the news’ on my phone largely because I didn’t care what Alex’s thing was. The note annoyed me. Alex annoyed me. We lived together because at one stage Alex did not annoy me and co-habitation made life affordable. Ours was a co-habitation of convenience. Alex seemed to think cutting his own hair, spending all his disposable income on video games, and watching incest porn in the shower was somehow a life worth sharing. Oh, why do I always –

‘Nadine, are you ok?’

Gemma was gently nudging my shoulder, her head cocked to one side like I suppose dogs sometimes do. I’d zoned out. The client had gone. I glanced up at the giant screen to see the ‘Any Questions’ slide transition to the screen saver, fireworks silently pinging into and out of existence.

‘Yes, shit I’m sorry – late night!’ I made a face, a grimace?

‘No worries, babe.’ She stood up. ‘You slayed!’ She made another kind of face, a sort of cheery smile which I interpreted as a direct invasion of my soul.

Gemma left the room. I was alone in the glass meeting room, sat at one end of a long rectangular-ish table. Outside the room, I was surrounded by office and all that entails. I turned towards the screen and watched the digital fireworks. An intense sadness engulfed me as I imagined my childhood self, enraptured by such a sight. Then I remembered the note. I pulled out my phone and saw 4 missed calls from Alex, and also one message: Did you see?!

Fuck me. I opened The Guardian and saw headlines about war, crisis, plague, and famine. Also, recipes. I didn’t know what to look for. 

I replied: No, sorry – been in a meeting. Send link?

The bouncing dots appeared instantly, and then: I’ll show you later.

I sighed. I dreaded to think what Alex was cooking up. He had long ago been radicalised by podcasts. One thing after another: tidy your room, take magnesium supplements, wake up at 4am to exercise (unsurprisingly, that one didn’t last), eat only beef. He was low-key becoming my own personal guru of male desperation. Why does every relationship have to end so slowly? I decided to take action, I called him. This was it, the resolution, I wasn’t happy, I wanted to be alone, he had to leave, that was the only solution to all my problems, it was so simple.

He didn’t answer.

A loud tapping on the glass door made me look up. Gemma beckoned me into the office. As I stood and walked over, I saw everyone standing behind their desks, facing something I couldn’t see. As I came out of the meeting room Gemma whispered to me but I didn’t hear and then I saw that the focus of the silent attention was Jason, the CEO.

I disengaged from Gemma and stood as far back as I could. Jason spoke too quietly to hear. Some people were looking at the floor. I remembered what this was. Someone had died, a colleague. There had been an email, a mandatory chance to honour the memory of the fallen colleague, while reminding ourselves of the company’s health and safety procedures. The concept of such an event felt profoundly wrong, but when I had told Alex he said it was important and sad.

Sharon, the office manager was moving through the room with a large box, objects were being handed out, it seemed that when you received one you were permitted to return to your desk. Suddenly I was eager for this item to be in my possession and moved through the crowd with what probably seemed like too much enthusiasm. Sharon looked at me with tears in her eyes and handed me a cardboard cube. The cube was decorated in the company’s colourway and printed on every side was a core health and safety procedure. Sharon had actual tears in her eyes, I couldn’t believe it. I had no expectation of the object being of any value and still managed to be disappointed. 

I returned to my desk, sat down, and placed the cube solemnly next to my keyboard. I remembered my plan to cut the cord with Alex. Severe ties. I opened the internet and began to log in to my bank, could I afford to live alone? Did it matter? As my balance appeared, I realised Glen had silently wheeled over to my side, he was staring at the number on the screen, he seemed genuinely embarrassed and pained on my behalf.

‘What?’ I said.

Glen snapped out of it, cheering up. He was young and dull, he wore nice plain clothes that befitted working in an office, and his main interest seemed to be protein.

‘How do you know if you can die?’ He said.