“The problem is,” he said, “you’re too good at it. Excuse me while I remove my battered ego from your presence, princess.”
He slid back down into his own cubicle, leaving Cheryl to wonder if she had actually hurt his feelings. The last thing she needed was going into a locked room with someone pissed off with her.
Did I just make an enemy?
She left-clicked the photograph on her monitor and began cropping it ready for the new company catalogue. It was a team shot, featuring the entire staff of Alscon in a group huddle. Cheryl was in the picture, but right at the back, barely visible amongst her smiling, confident co-workers.
Why do I never seem to fit in anywhere? she asked herself. Why do I feel like a tadpole in a pond full of fish?
She didn’t have an answer.
“Do I need to make you sandwiches, sweetheart? I could put some of last night’s spaghetti in Tupperware for you.”
Cheryl was busy bunching her almond-brown hair into a loose ponytail ready for the weekend. She had also dressed practically in a thick tartan shirt and light-denim jacket. Warm but not sweaty. “No, mum!” she said for the umpteenth time. “I don’t need you to make me sandwiches. Jeez, I’m twenty-three. Anyway, this thing is fully catered.”
“But you don’t want to be eating food you haven’t seen prepared. I’ll pack you some sarnies just to be safe.”
Cheryl stood from the kitchen’s small oak table and gave her increasingly frail old ma a hug in front of the Aga. The heat coming off it was comforting, and conjured memories of sitting on the tiles as a child and playing with her dolls. If one thing made her think of home, it was heat from an Aga. “Stop fretting, mum. It’s just a weekend — a work thing — I’ll be fine.”
“What kind of work locks their employees in a room?”
Cheryl chuckled. An escape room must have sounded ludicrous to her sixty-seven-year-old mother — it sounded bizarre enough to herself — but she’d given her word now, and it wasn’t worth the hassle of cancelling at the last minute. “It’s just a game, mum. Like that show you and dad used to watch on the games channel. The, um, Crystal Maze, right? We’ll work together to get out of a room by solving puzzles. It’s a team building thingy.”
Her mother crossed her arms and appeared no less concerned. Since Cheryl’s father died two years ago, things had been difficult at home. The sudden loss had all but crippled her mother, and it was heartbreaking to witness, but Cheryl was grieving too. She’d lost her dad before her twenty-second birthday, and her mother’s helplessness was becoming a burden. He had always been such an imposing figure, a self-made businessman and a workaholic most of the time, but a loving and warm joker the rest. Without his presence, life had fallen into a depressing stasis, and as much as Cheryl was loath to admit it, the notion of a company outing had grown on her. It was the first weekend she’d had plans in over a month.
I’m supposed to be in my own place by now with a boyfriend and plans for a future. Now it feels like I don’t even have a future.
“Have you made a list of everything you need to pack?” Her mother asked, speaking between nibbles at her thumbnail.
“I’m already packed, mum. I’ve got everything I need, I promise. Stop fretting.”
“What about Vaseline?”
“What?”
Her mother rooted through one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a small steel tin, then handed it to Cheryl as if its purpose was obvious. “It’s going to be minus-one this afternoon. You know how bad your lips get when it’s cold.”
Cheryl didn’t expect to be spending much time outdoors, but her mother was clearly desperate to be useful. Taking the Vaseline was a tiny gesture, so she reached out and accepted it, sliding the tin into her jean pocket. “Thanks mum. I’ll use it if I need it.”
Her mother finally relaxed. She leaned back against the Aga’s silver handrail. “I don’t mean to nag, but you’re my baby and I just —”
A honking horn made them both flinch. Cheryl’s mother didn’t recover from the fright, and her sallow face hung like a Basset Hound. The weight of her worry dragged her pasty grey eyelids downwards. Would she ever stop being such an anxious mess?
I can’t live at home forever, mum. I won’t.
The car horn honked again.
Cheryl moved towards the door. “That’ll be Leo. He’s giving me a lift.”
Her mother hurried after her like she planned to stop her leaving. “And how long have you known this Leo?”
“Since I started at Alscon.”
“Did you leave me the address for the hotel? You said it’s more than an hour away.”
Cheryl gave her mother another quick hug. “Mum, stop worrying. Leo works in the cubicle next to mine, and he’s a nice guy. I’ve written everything you need to know and put it on the fridge, okay? I have my mobile, and I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Enjoy some privacy for a couple days. Read a book or something.”
“What on earth would I want to read about?”
“I don’t know, mum. Maybe try reading something interesting. Who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.”
“Don’t be so mean.”
Cheryl leaned forward and kissed her mother’s forehead. “Sorry, mum.”
“Will you just remember to—”
The car horn beeped again, and Cheryl decided not to prolong the moment any further. “I best get going, mum. I’ll call you tonight, okay? Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart. Um, just… keep warm, okay?”
Cheryl hurried out the kitchen’s side door and rushed out the front gate. It had been a goodbye far harder than it should’ve been, which left her frustrated, and yet she was excited too. She was going to have a little fun for one weekend. Was that too much to ask? Besides, it was only a work thing. What was the worst that could happen?
The journey started awkwardly. Leo was chatty, as always, but the general line of conversation oscillated between bad jokes and worse innuendos. Cheryl hadn’t known him long, which meant she spent most of the time laughing awkwardly and not knowing how to take things. In the last ten minutes though, Leo had started to settle down, and his words gradually matured to match his age.
“So you still live at home with your mum, huh?” he asked her as they cruised along the dual carriageway at eighty. She wished he’d do seventy.
She had been warming her hands on the dashboard vent, but she sat back now and looked at him. “Yeah, I was planning to move out by now but my, um, dad died of a heart attack a couple years back. It was sudden, you know? He was fit as a fiddle, so it came out of nowhere. Didn’t seem right leaving Mum on her own after such a shock.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “Why would you? He died suddenly. Mum still hasn’t come to terms with it, really. Not sure she ever will. They were married for over forty years.”
Leo glanced away from the road to look at her. His cheeky visage dropped, and she thought she saw genuine sympathy on his face — and why had she not noticed how dark and brown his eyes were before? They were like pools of chocolate. “Both my parents are still around,” he said, “but my mum’s brother died a few years back from cancer and it really ripped her apart. I thought she was going to get committed at one point, so I get how you needed to look after your mum. It’s good of you. Don’t know many of our age who would.”