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‘I’m not sure why you didn’t apply for one of the new project manager roles, Holly?’ Sasha says.

The pity in her eyes unnerves me. ‘Oh, um…’ What can I say? Finding a care home for Mum, visiting her most nights, trying to catch up with Adam and his family, and looking after my man-child partner, the house and now his eight-year-old son every second week has sucked away my life. But I simply say, ‘I guess I didn’t realise the restructure would take so much work from our area.’

Sasha’s sigh carries the weight of bad news. ‘Due to budgetary restraints, we won’t be able to retain all positions, which means we have no choice but to make some redundant.’

The ball of dread in my stomach unravels and spreads through my body. I rub my arms, feeling a chill through my thin jumper. ‘Redundant. Wow. Those … poor … people.’ A piece of fluff on my tights catches my attention, and I pick it off.

‘Holly,’ Maria says softly.

I lift my head.

‘Your position is one of them,’ she says.

I point to myself. ‘Me. Oh.’ I look at Sasha, but she closes her eyes, her brow creased.

‘I’m sorry, Holly,’ Maria says. ‘I know you’ve given so much over the years, and you’ve been – you are – a valued employee, which is why we’re sorry you didn’t put in an application for one of the new PM roles. These redundancies aren’t about anyone’s capabilities; it’s business. The additional project management roles are no longer tenable.’

‘I have no job,’ I say.

‘We’ve calculated your redundancy package,’ Maria continues, bulldozing over my feelings with her rehearsed spiel. ‘I’ll email you the details, but given you’ve been here seven years, it’s generous. Certainly enough to give you time to find a new job. And of course, you’ll receive an excellent reference.’

‘Um.’ I shake my head. ‘How much will I get, exactly?’

Sasha blinks at me, her eyes watery, then taps the keyboard and twists the monitor my way. ‘We need to give you eight weeks’ paid notice, plus twenty-one weeks for your seven years’ service, plus an additional four months. You’ll also get paid out your annual leave, and the long service leave you’ve accrued to date. So, around sixteen months in total.’

Maria interjects. ‘The first four weeks of the notice period you can work if you like, and you can either come in here or work remotely.’

‘What do you expect me to do for the month if my position is redundant?’ I snap.

Maria’s cheeks turn pink and she glances down at her notepad.

‘Finding another job like this will take ages,’ I say.

Sasha twists the monitor back. ‘You have excellent skills and experience, Holly, and people always need project managers.’

‘Except this office,’ I say, a little more sharply than I intended.

She gives a regretful sigh. ‘Look at it this way – it could be a fresh start. A chance for you to do something you’ve always wanted to do. A career change?’

‘I wasn’t really looking for a career change,’ I say. ‘I like it here. I’ve been here since I finished my master’s.’ I screw my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. ‘Okay. So, what happens now? Do I leave and not come back?’

‘That’s up to you,’ Maria says. ‘You can take the weekend to think about what you’d like to do for the next four weeks. We understand this is a difficult and stressful situation, so do what’s right for you. You can speak to a support person now – we have someone waiting – and we want to ensure that you have friends or family available to you outside of work this evening. If you don’t, we can?—’

‘It’s fine. I live with my partner. Do I have to speak to a support person?’

‘You don’t have to, no,’ Maria says. ‘But we think it might be helpful.’

I stand, suddenly too warm and struggling to catch my breath. ‘I need fresh air and to walk. I just want to walk.’

‘Do you mind if I call you later to check in?’ Maria asks.

‘I’d rather you didn’t. I won’t be working for the rest of the afternoon.’

‘Of course not,’ Maria says.

I head back upstairs and stare at the contents of my desk. I have very little to pack up since I had a clear-out when I was bored last week. I go to switch off my PC and spot the email with my formal notice already waiting. I ignore it, grab my bag and camera and head for the lift, but Sasha is racing towards me.

‘Holly,’ she gushes. ‘I am so, so sorry.’