Page 35 of The Tapes
It takes me a moment to realise that by ‘issues’, he means my father dying.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, hoping I’ve misread things.
‘The mistakes, Eve. That’s what I mean. Like yesterday with the engineer you forgot to call. Or last week with the inventory update you forgot to do. The email I sent about a client wanting an extra storage unit. I could go on but this morning is another example of your patchy timekeeping – just like yesterday.’
‘I’m not late today,’ I say.
‘I asked you to come in early.’
‘I had to drop off my daughter.’
‘You’re still late – and that’s after taking off most of yesterday.’
‘The policeaskedto see me!’
Mark sits forward in the chair, almost overbalancing but just about catching himself. ‘It’s not just one day.’
‘My daughter had pneumonia at the start of the year. I needed that time to be with her.’
‘And that meant I had nobody covering the front desk for a whole week. If we survived that, and we got through yesterday, what exactly do we need you for? I need someone who’ll come to work, who?—’
‘Idocome to work.’
I feel that old anger rising. Faith was on a ventilator overnight and in hospital for two days, before being released. She was fine in the end but that isn’t the point. I still returned to work earlier than I should have – largely because of the multiple texts Mark was sending every day. I ended up being forced to take that as holiday – which was my only time off until Dad died, where I had two more days.
Mark is silent but that makes it worse. I can’t stop myself: ‘It’s not my fault you bought the storage place next door, fired the manager, and gave almost all his responsibilities to me.’
It’s been on my mind but it’s never come out until now. Mark folds his arms and it’s so clear where he’s going next.
‘I took a chance on you,’ he says. ‘Most people would’ve written you off after seeing that conviction on your CV. They’d have kicked you while you were down. I’m the one who took you off the scrapheap.’
There’s partial truth there. I had to declare my conviction on the job application but the ‘taking a chance’ part is only true because he offered twenty per cent less than the salary that had been advertised. It was couched under various probation periods as he outright said he’d give me a chance. That was around six years ago and, since then, there have been zero salary increases, despite the extra workload. My history has always been held over me.
‘What do you want me to say?’ I ask.
Mark uncrosses his arms and holds up a hand, indicating the yard beyond. ‘I want to know this is still your priority – because your attitude is catching. Owen’s not turned up today either. Isaw you chit-chatting yesterday on work time. Something about a tape.’
So he did overhear. I wonder how much he caught.
‘Owen’s nothing to do with me,’ I say. ‘I was asking for some advice.’
Mark rolls his eyes. He’s long considered any conversation not directly related to work as needless chit-chat. He waits but I have nothing to add, so he tries again: ‘I want to know that this is still your priority…’
I know what I should say. This is where I bend the knee, bite the bullet, apologise. Tell him that, yes, of coursehisbusiness is my priority, no matter how many times he talks down to me.
That’s what Ishouldsay.
Not today.
‘My daughter’s my priority,’ I reply instead. ‘She always has been and she always will be.’
Mark chews the inside of his cheek and I get the sense he’s not entirely sure what to do. He’s used to deference.
‘I’m going to mark the engineer thing from yesterday as an official verbal warning,’ he says. ‘This morning’s lateness is a second verbal warning. Anything more will be your first written warning. After that, I’ll have no option other than to terminate. I suppose I hoped you – of all people – would have a little more gratitude.’
He moves around the desk about to head to his own office as I stew silently.
And then it’s not so silent.
