he took up a sheaf of papers and waved them in the air. ‘There’s another difficult one coming up … a major project with several interested parties. Prime stuff … running into millions. It’s in Glasgow – I’ll need you there in the next week or so … a month at the outside. That should give you time to catch your breath.’
Tom shook his head. ‘I can’t do it, John. There’s something I—’
The other man intervened. ‘I know! It’s been one trip after another, and I had hoped to give you some time off. But you really are the best I’ve got. After this, I’ll make sure you can keep your feet on the ground for at least a year, I promise.’
Tom didn’t know how to tell him, but it had to be said, and without the trimmings. ‘I’m handing in my resignation, John.’
‘WHAT!’ Leaping out of the chair, his boss came round the desk, eyes bulging as he looked down on Tom. ‘What the devil’s brought this on? I’ve already said … this job, then a year on home ground. I mean it … I know how hard I’ve pushed you, but after what happened I thought it might help …’ Cursing himself, he paused. He had made it a rule never to raise the matter of the tragic incident that took Tom’s entire family. ‘Look, I’m sorry, Tom, but I can’t let you go. You’re too important to me … to this whole outfit, for God’s sake!’
Tom was equally adamant. ‘And I’m sorry, John,’ he replied calmly, ‘but the resignation stands … it’ll be on your desk within the hour. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, and my mind’s made up. The truth is … if I don’t leave now, I’ll crack!’
‘I see.’ Realising how determined Tom was and knowing his reputation for sticking to his guns, John understood the argument to be already lost, but he made one last try. ‘Don’t be too hasty, son. Let’s not talk “resignation”.’ He couldn’t afford to lose Tom. ‘Take a long leave of absence … I don’t have a problem with that. I can cope if I have to.’ He gave a half smile. ‘Though of course I’d prefer you to change your mind altogether …’
Getting out of the chair, Tom looked him in the eye. ‘Thanks all the same, but like I said, my mind’s made up. I’ll work out the month if you want me to, but to tell you the truth, I’d rather go now … right this minute.’
For a long moment the older man regarded him, then, after a moment, he asked kindly, ‘What will you do?’
‘I’ve decided to sell the flat and move away.’
‘Where will you go?’
Tom had not thought that far ahead. ‘I’m not sure,’ he answered truthfully. ‘Somewhere I’m not known … somewhere I can put my life into perspective. A quiet place, where I can find peace, and the time to sort out my life.’
The older man began to sympathise. He could see the pain in Tom’s eyes. He nodded. ‘I understand,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve been so driven this past year … maybe it’s what you need.’
Tom nodded. ‘It is.’
‘All right, Tom, I won’t hold you to a month, but I will need you to pass on your schedules to a colleague … talk him through every aspect. Lend him the expertise to deal with it all in the way you yourself would.’ He threw out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘It has to be a smooth transition … all loose ends tied up. I don’t need headaches. You do understand what I’m saying?’
Tom understood exactly. This was big business. There was no room for errors. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it,’ he promised. ‘I won’t let you down.’
John nodded appreciatively. ‘I wouldn’t do this for anybody else,’ he said, ‘but you’ve given me everything you’ve got to give and it’s only fair I give some back.’
‘Who do you want to take over my schedules?’
‘Your brother Dougie. Oh, I know he’s still got a lot to learn, but he’s doing well now. He’s out of the same mould and he’ll have the added incentive to do you proud. Yes! Dougie’s your man.’
Shaking hands, they said their piece. ‘And don’t forget to keep in touch!’ John warned. ‘When you’re ready to get back in the saddle, your job will be here waiting for you.’
A few minutes later Tom was back in his own office, slightly dazed and a little shaken by the enormity of what he was doing. Yet, amongst all the niggling doubts, he felt instinctively that he was doing the right and only thing.
After three days of being ensconced in the office with Dougie who, though a little nervous, seemed confident about the workload he was taking on, Tom said his goodbyes. There was a small leaving party; the good wishes of his colleagues, and, inevitably, tears from Lilian, who had taken his news very hard. ‘We’ll miss you,’ she murmured, dabbing her eyes with her hankie. And he thanked her for all the years she had looked after him.
When it was over, he left the building with Dougie by his side.
They walked to the pub on the corner where they sat down with a pint each. Tom stretched his legs out and closed his eyes, a sense of relief washing over him. His brother’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘I’m still not sure you’re doing the right thing.’ Like Tom, Dougie was lean of build, with the same colour hair; but his eyes were a clear shade of green, and when he laughed he laughed heartily. He wasn’t quiet and thoughtful like Tom, nor did he have that same lazy smile. Instead, when he smiled, his face crinkled like a puppy dog’s.
But he wasn’t smiling now. Instead he seemed worried. ‘I wish you’d tell me where you’re going.’
‘I’m not sure myself yet,’ Tom confided. ‘You’ll know when I do, don’t worry. Besides, you’ve got enough on your plate without fretting about me. Look, I’ll be fine.’ He tried to smile reassuringly.
Dougie wasn’t convinced. ‘I wish I could believe that.’
‘You’ll just have to trust me. It’s what I need to do. Until I get it all out of my system, I can’t move on with my life.’
Dougie nodded. ‘I can understand that. But you will let me know how you’re doing, won’t you?’
‘I promise,’ Tom said. ‘When I’m settled.’
The following morning, after placing the flat and all its furniture in the hands of an agent, Tom packed his bags and left. His first stop was the florist, where he collected a pre-ordered bouquet, a pretty thing with bright-coloured summer flowers in a cradle of green leaves. It was a luxury in a country governed by austerity, but that didn’t matter to him. It was the sort of thing he knew Sheila would have chosen herself.
Sited nearby, the churchyard was speckled with shrubs and trees of all blossom and variety and, far enough from the hustle and bustle, it was a place of solitude and beauty.
Tom laid the flowers beneath the headstone; he read the inscription and softly cried. It told of how a mother and her two children were laid there, taken by a tragic accident. It showed their names and ages, and at the bottom were written the words that Tom had requested:
My dearest loved ones. May God keep you safe until we meet again.
The tears filled his eyes. There was a moment of contemplation,
