Hannah Simpson increased her pace, her stride firm, her footfall soft.
I’ve done it. Finally! She crossed her fingers behind her back and waited to be admitted to the private office of the human resources department.
This was her chance. After two long years spent waiting in the wings, she was destined to win a position in the hierarchy of well-respected technicians and scientists instead of being the go-for, the jack of all trades but master of none.
Holding her head high and facing the closed door, she rubbed a foot against the back of her trousers, her nerves jangling. The door swung open.
“Please come in.” The personnel officer stood back and smiled, her earrings swinging. “Make yourself at home.”
“Thanks, Karen.” Hannah pulled out the chair opposite the officer’s desk and nestled herself comfortably. The women faced each other and Karen sighed. A flash of alarm bit into Hannah and she shuffled forward, perching on the edge of her chair. Had she got this wrong? Was this not the promotion call after all?
Karen cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to have to inform you that you were unsuccessful this time.”
Hannah’s heart thumped in her chest. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her trousers. Staring at Karen, dumbstruck, she tucked her chin to hide the heat rising on her neck. I don’t believe this. As shock morphed to frustration and then despair, she found her voice. “Can you tell me where I went wrong? Or why I’m unsuccessful?”
“Of course. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you scored extremely well. However, another of the candidates rated slightly higher and as you know, we must award the position to the highest-scoring applicant.” Karen angled her head in obvious sympathy and Hannah blinked hard, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fingers tightly together. “Do you have any other questions?”
Waiting for a few seconds, Hannah willed her tears to remain behind her eyes and not let her down. Drawing herself up in her chair, she asked, “Was the successful applicant a male?”
Karen stared at her for what seemed like a minute, the vein in her neck pulsing. Then she gave Hannah a silent nod.
Hannah rose to her feet and turned toward the door.
“I’m so sorry.” The woman’s softly spoken words followed her into the passage, penetrating her head, like a ghost she couldn’t shake off. The stairwell door closed behind her with a loud click and she leaned on the handrail and gazed at her quivering hands. She took several deep, slow breaths, then proceeded down two flights of stairs. Pausing again on the landing outside her department, she lowered her shoulders and reefed the door open.
Questioning eyes seemed to bore into her as she slid through the door and calmly made her way to her desk at the far end of the room.
“Well, what’s the verdict? Did you get it?” Ellie hissed the words, her face half covered with a hand.
Hannah met her gaze with a solemn stare. Her friend’s beautiful Irish complexion had paled, and compassion softened her expression.
Hannah shook her head, her mouth tight. “No, apparently I scored well—but not well enough.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Hannah.” Ellie ducked around the partition and hugged her. “I really thought now that the old dog has gone, they would do their best to use a new broom. Lord knows that department could do with a good sweep—and there’s no one more deserving than you.”
Hannah pursed her lips. She agreed with Ellie—at least she had believed her hard work and innovative ideas would be welcome. Apparently not. “It looks like I’ll have to keep on trying, Ellie, like I have for the last couple of years.”
“Don’t let it get you down. Look at the positives. Now you’ll be able to concentrate on the Horse of the Year show and get that steed of yours leaping out of her skin.”
Hannah shot her a rueful grin. Although not a horsewoman herself, Ellie loved animals and understood it required dedication and hard work to achieve a good rapport with a successful show jumper. She was right. The new job, had Hannah been successful, would have increased her workload and responsibilities, meaning getting time off to compete in her chosen sport would have been fraught with difficulty.
“How many weeks now?”
“Three.” Hannah paused and glanced at the calendar above her desk. “Actually, it’s less than that. Mum and Dad are coming down to watch and stay a few days so we can celebrate both Dad’s and my birthdays after the competition.”
“Fabulous. Let’s hope that Hastings weather lives up to its reputation so you can pretend you’re holidaying on the Mediterranean.”
Hannah forced a brief smile on her face, compressing her disappointment deep inside until she could revisit it in privacy. She pulled her sleeve back and checked her watch. “It’s nearly knock-off time. I’m going to leave a few minutes early so I can collect my jacket from Todd’s before he gets home.”
“Right. Sounds like a plan.” Ellie’s forehead creased. “I know you were together for four years, but I’m pleased you’ve seen him for what he really is—a narcissistic bully. You deserve so much better.”
Hannah hugged her friend. You’ll never know how many times I ignored those red flags. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not made of porcelain. I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.” Ellie lowered her head and spoke softly. “You know I didn’t believe you when you said it was your horse who gave you that black eye a few months back. It was Todd, wasn’t it?”
Hannah shook her head as she grabbed her bag.
“Of course not. I told you it was my horse—and it was my fault, not hers.” She leant across her desk and shut down her computer. Giving Ellie a small wave as she hurried out the door, she called back, “See you Monday.”
