Page 50 of Don't Point at the Moon

“But it’s bad enough to warrant you polishing off a bottle of spirits and clearly involves tough decisions somebody’s making that you’re just going to have to swallow.”

Mitchell swung his gaze back to Tommy, clearly surprised at the words.

“How would you know that?”

Tommy held up the red card. “Because you just said so.”

“Look, Tommy, I’m legally forbidden from talking to anybody about what’s going on. But let’s just say that I have a feeling that my days of living in Hong Kong are numbered.”

An unexpected twinge pinched at Tommy’s chest, the thought of losing a friend perhaps, or of something being unresolved.

“I understand.”

“The irony is that in HR, we’re constantly preaching to our workforce about embracing change, adapting and keeping up with the constantly shifting demands and needs of the business. But deep down, it’s me who’s uncomfortable with change. Don’t worry. I still promise to be your plus-one for the wedding.”

Tommy’s phone interrupted them, pinging in his pocket. He read the message and held the phone up to let Mitchell see the words.

Zane:Can you remind Mitchell about the theatre junk trip next Saturday. The dress code is anything nautical. I’ll need to buy fancy dress.

“Looks like we’re on a junk trip next Saturday.”

“We?”

“If I’m going—and I have no choice as one of the organisers—then so are you, Mitchell. Visibility, remember? And you need to be there to support your nephew.”

“Oh, heavens. It never ends, does it?”

“You have no idea. But you said your nephew should socialise more.”

“Nautical?” said Mitchell. “What the hell am I supposed to wear?”

“Don’t worry,” said Tommy, smiling. “I’m sure Zane will come up with something fitting.”

Chapter Thirteen

On Monday morning, feeling better than he deserved, Mitchell left Zane sleeping and made his way to the office. He had no idea what time his nephew had returned because he had been fast asleep. Instead of potentially waking Zane with a text message, he left a scribbled note on the coffee table telling him to call if he needed anything.

During weekdays, Mitchell liked to arrive around seven-thirty, before anyone else, mainly to read messages, complete any overnight tasks and prioritise his day. That morning he picked up an extra-large coffee on his way in and was thanked his stars for the quiet emptiness of the office. His good fortune did not last long.

“Didn’t think you’d make it in today,” came Kate’s voice across the otherwise empty open office.

“Whyever not?”

“I’d heard you were unwell yesterday.”

Hong Kong’s parochialism could be annoyingly intrusive. News travelled at the speed of light. On the flip side, that could sometimes be a blessing.

“Who told you?”

Kate appeared slightly embarrassed at the question.

“Girl gossip. I bumped into Shelly last night. She was out with her theatre people. Never mind about that, I have news. Remember I told you I was interviewing for a CFO position? The recruiter phoned late Friday night and told me the interview’s this Tuesday. But I need your help.”

“Go on.”

“They asked me if there’s anything in my current contract that might prevent me from starting as soon as my notice period has expired. Or if the bank might consider paying me out of the notice period.”

“You’re not going to find out what your redundancy package might be?”

---