Mia has always had a soft spot for my secretary, Nicky. She thinks she’s cool, probably because we let slip years ago that she’s an ex-convict.
Patrick strides into the kitchen. He’s wearing a suit and tie. ‘I have a meeting in Brighton later, but I’ve got time to come with you to your office first. We’ll need to go in separate cars.’
‘Ok,’ I say reluctantly. I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea to confront Ajay. Mia plonks her crockery in the sink. I don’t have the energy to tell her to put it straight into the dishwasher.
‘You don’t sound convinced,’ Patrick says quietly. ‘Remember what I told you yesterday. I don’t want you to take any chances. And especially if Mia is going to be here or with you at work this week. I want my girls to stay safe.’
I smile when Patrick calls Mia and me his girls.
An hour later, I have dropped Oliver off at school, Mia has spread her books across the boardroom table, and I’m in my office, having another look at BUYIT TV’s paperwork. I want to be absolutely sure we’re not accusing Ajay of something in error. But it seems that everything tallies with what I thought. The internal phone rings.
‘Patrick is here,’ Nicky says.
‘Please send him in.’
Patrick strides briskly into my office and leans over my desk to give me a kiss. ‘Ready?’ he asks. I nod although I’m not.
I knock on Ajay’s door, even though I can see him sitting at his desk, his fingers flying across his keyboard.
‘Come in,’ he says, without looking up.
We both walk in and Patrick closes the door behind him. Ajay stares at us with a bemused expression. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Um, no, not really. The thing is, um, there’s no easy way to say this, um.’ I simply can’t get my words out. Patrick takes over.
‘Ajay, it’s in the best interest of the business, and of Lydia, if you take some time off. Perhaps a few weeks’ paid leave, just until the police finally decide who was responsible for Adam’s death and so that there aren’t any more screw-ups, such as the fiasco with BUYIT TV yesterday.’ Patrick stands with his arms crossed in front of him.
Ajay explodes. ‘What gives you the right to come in here and tell me what to do! This is my bloody company, and you have nothing to do with it!’
‘He’s here on my behalf, Ajay. To support me,’ I say lamely.
‘And you want me to get out, is that it?’ He slams the palm of his hand onto the desk. I take a step backwards. Patrick grasps my hand. I know now what Patrick means. Ajay has a temper I’ve never witnessed before. ‘You have no right, either of you. In case you’ve forgotten, Lydia, we are equal shareholders and co-directors. I have put my everything into Cracking Crafts, and it’s my life as much as it’s yours. Or at least I thought it was. How dare you try to fire me!’
‘I’m not trying to fire you. I just think it might be easier for everyone if perhaps you work from home for a while. I’m not comfortable–’
‘Lydia told me about what happened at the television station yesterday,’ Patrick says.
‘This is none of your bloody business! Get out. Now!’ He points his finger at Patrick. His hands are shaking with fury.
‘No,’ Patrick says softly. ‘I’m here to protect my wife. I’m sorry, mate, but it’s you who has to go.’
20
I have never witnessed anyone fly into a rage as Ajay does. His eyes are bulging, his nostrils flared and his teeth are bared, pink gums glistening with saliva. He swipes a pile of files off his desk and onto the floor. They land with a clatter.
‘Get out of my office!’ he shouts.
I back towards the door, tugging Patrick’s hand.
‘No, you stay here, Lydia!’ Ajay growls. ‘Patrick, you’re nothing to this business. Get out!’
‘She’s not staying here without me,’ Patrick says, holding his ground.
There’s a knock on the door. We all freeze. I am the first to turn and open the door, relieved to have an excuse to walk away.
‘Is everything all right, Lydia?’ Nicky asks, frowning whilst glancing from Ajay to Patrick and back again.
‘Everything’s just fucking fine!’ Ajay snarls. He grabs his jacket and his briefcase and pushes past Patrick. Both Nicky and I stand back to let him go.
‘What?’ Nicky says.
‘Don’t ask,’ I murmur.
She edges away.
‘Shit,’ I say as Patrick and I are left alone in Ajay’s office. I am trembling.
‘It’s for the best, Lydia. After that little display, I think I’m right. I don’t want him around you or Mia. At least not until we can be sure that he doesn’t have evil intentions towards you or the business. Just let things settle.’
‘It’s easy for you to say that, but without Ajay I have to be fully responsible for this multimillion-pound business. I don’t know about logistics or accounting. Adam and Ajay did all of that. It’s too much for me.’
‘You’re a strong woman, Lydia. You’ll cope.’
I don’t agree. All I want to do right now is bury myself in a dark hole, away from everyone, where I can be free of responsibility. I don’t want this hassle. But then I think about this wonderful business and all the years we have spent growing this, and I try to imagine my life without it. I can’t. I love Cracking Crafts. It’s my identity and my passion. I just need to get a better grip on things. And first of all, I must concentrate on my children.
‘I’ve got to get off now,’ Patrick says, interrupting my thoughts. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Leave your phone on and call me if there’s the slightest hint of trouble. And call the police if you’re worried. Promise?’ He looks deep into my eyes.
‘I promise,’ I say.
‘At least it’s Friday. I’ll see you later.’
Ajay doesn’t return, and I’m relieved. I really couldn’t face a showdown. My head pounds and it feels as if my heart is beating too fast whilst my throat is choking. I’m overwhelmed, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Cracking Crafts is my responsibility. I remind myself that I love this business, that we have a good team and a new accountant, and we are a well-oiled machine.
Later that evening, after supper, I tell the kids and Patrick that I’ve got a headache and am going to bed early. I leave them to clear up. After running myself a bath, I’m about to nip back downstairs to get a glass of water when I see Patrick talking in hushed voices to Mia in her bedroom. She looks delighted about something he says. It brings a smile to my face. At least the kids are getting on well with Patrick now. Oliver plays computer games with him most evenings, and I still struggle to get him to do his homework.
No one has cleared up from supper. The dishes are on the side, dirty plates in the sink. I sigh. Why can’t my children clear up after themselves? Why doesn’t Patrick lift a finger to help? The first couple of weeks he lived here, he bent over backwards to help, cooking and clearing up, but now he does nothing. I can’t help but think of Adam. As much as we argued, he did his fair share around the house, cooking a meal at the weekends and helping me clear up after dinner when I asked for assistance. But Patrick expects me to do everything. I’m going to have to talk to him about it, but not tonight. I’m too tired.