The Itchy Soul: Chapter 3
IT WAS ONLY as I watched Jane’s departing back that I remembered the trip to France. It seemed unlikely she’d agree to it, especially now, but when I thought again about the opportunity and how miserable this place was making me and with Judith’s challenge still rattling around inside my head, I decided I had to at least try. Leaving the rest of the staff to gossip about Jane’s announcement, I hurried after her. Damn she was fast! When I finally caught up she was already sitting behind her desk with a phone in her hand. She motioned for me to come in and sit down.
I perched on the edge of a chair and waited as she wrapped up her phone call. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop of course but when I heard her mention France, my ears pricked up. Who was she speaking to and why was she telling them that it just wasn’t possible when that was my gig? Without thinking, I launched myself at the phone on her desk and pressed the button to end the call.
“What the ….?!?”
“I’ll go!”
“What? Go where? What on earth are you talking about? Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“I saw the email, about the retreat in France? I want to go. Please? I think it’ll be really good for me, and for us here. It would make a great women’s interest piece.” I decided I wasn’t above begging if needs be. “Please Jane?”
“Woah, slow down. Before I do anything else I must make a phone call. You just cut me off from our sister magazine in the States and they’re waiting on me for an answer.”
“An answer to the French trip? That’s what I’m talking about. I want to go.”
“That wasn’t what I was talking to them about. They were asking me about an industry conference in France in December. But you know, that does give me an idea. Are you sure you want to go?”
I nodded, not daring to speak.
“What about Pete and the kids?”
“I’ll figure it out. I mean, I need to speak to him but, I’m sure we can make it happen.”
“You know I couldn’t pay you any extra?”
“I know.”
“And if you mess this up, that’s it for you.” She drew her finger across her neck.
“I understand.”
“Okay, so here’s what we’ll do. You go home and talk to Pete. I’ll phone New York, apologise, blame it on a bad connection, and see if I can sell them on this story.”
“And if they won’t buy it?”
“You can go anyway, but you’ll have to cover your own flight! So keep your fingers crossed and say a little prayer.”
I practically skipped out of the room, my excitement piqued for the first time in a very long time. Colin and June gave me a funny look as I grabbed my bag and headed towards the door.
“Au revoir!”
Twenty-seven minutes later as I slammed the door of the car shut and walked towards the house, the enormity of what I’d just taken on hit me. I couldn’t go to France, could I? And what if I made a total mess of it and gave Jane the excuse she needed to make me redundant, or worse? We could get by on Pete’s income briefly, but we were definitely a two income family and with the kids set to head off to uni soon that need would only get greater. I walked into the kitchen to find Pete sitting at the table, surrounded in paperwork. Monday was his day to juggle the books and from the look on his face, it wasn’t going well.
“Would you like a coffee?” I offered.
Pete looked up, his eyes glazed. “April! You’re home early. Everything okay?”
“Yep, I guess. Shall I make us that coffee?”
Without waiting for an answer I busied myself with the grinder. I could feel Pete’s eyes on me the whole time and silently willed him not to ask, not yet at least. I needed to get my head round things before I could contemplate telling him about it.
Apparently unable to read my mind, Pete got up and came to my side. He took the filter from my hand and put it down on the kitchen unit. “What’s happened?”
“Something’s come up at work. An opportunity.”
“A good opportunity?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“That sounds great! When do you start?”
I shook my head, willing him to be quiet. “I don’t know. The thing is, it’s complicated.”
“Go on?”
“It’s a writing gig, for the magazine.”
“Brilliant!” Pete looked genuinely delighted. He knew how soul destroying the recipes and book reviews were.
“In Loches.”
“Where?”
“France.”
“You like France.”
I nodded. “I know. But it’s for two weeks. I’m not sure I can just up and leave, can I? What about you and the kids?”
“Do you want to go?”
“Maybe. I mean yes, I think so. It sounds like it would be fun.”
“So let’s make it happen.”
“I dunno Pete. It’s a big opportunity. What if I mess it up? Or something happens here while I’m away? Or I could get lost. Or blown up. Or …”
I knew I was making excuses, almost willing him to be the reason I didn’t go so I could blame someone else for not allowing me this chance for a change. A small unspoken and unacknowledged part of me was terrified that I might go all the way to France and be just as miserable as I was right here at home. I wanted this to be the answer. I wanted to believe that by changing my surroundings I could finally, once and for all, change my life for the better, but what if I went there and was still the same miserable old cow I was at home?
“It’s up to you April. I want to support you, you know I do, and if that means you taking a trip to Europe for a couple of weeks then so be it. But it has to be your choice.”
When I didn’t say anything he took my hands in his and looked me in the eye, suddenly appearing very serious. “I mean it April. You choose. Decide what you want and I’ll support you, okay?”