Page 54 of Things We Need to Say (Second Chance Love Stories #2)

Two weeks later, Emma was back in the HR office at the hotel.

All the staff were welcoming and she particularly enjoyed working with Jenny, but she’d quickly come to realise that office work was not for her.

Helping Jay last week had reminded her of what she liked most about the hospitality industry.

The preparation of a function and then bringing it all together at the last minute.

Watching as people enjoyed the food that had been prepared for them and ensuring that their whole experience was enjoyable.

Working in HR was a good insight into what was required to make sure the workforce operated like a well-oiled machine, but she wouldn’t be disappointed when her time here ended and she was back out on the ‘frontline’.

Last week had been difficult, though. Working so closely with Jay, and not being able to be with him as she was used to, had been hard.

She’d lost count of the number of times she’d wanted to reach out and touch him, to be able to share the closeness that she’d taken for granted in the past. Sometimes she’d spotted him looking at her and had wondered if he’d been thinking the same as her, but she’d quickly pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

Emma stifled the urge to yawn as she continued to fill in the payroll spreadsheet that would mean all the staff received their correct payments at the end of the month.

She needed to concentrate or she would get it wrong, which would cause a lot of unhappiness, something she didn’t want to be responsible for.

Unhappy staff. Her thoughts drifted back to her former line manager as they often did these days.

She wondered what Heather was doing, now that she was no longer at the Rosemont.

The way Heather had left still niggled at Emma.

It felt like unfinished business, something she needed to resolve before she could move on.

Making sure that no one was watching, Emma pulled up Heather’s file, found her address and quickly wrote it down.

She decided to pay her a visit, soon. Although she knew it might end in disaster, it was something that she instinctively knew she had to do.

* * *

Emma stood across the road from the block of flats where Heather lived. The area was down-at-heel — the kind of place where gangs of teenagers congregated. She was glad she’d decided to come on her day off, in daylight, rather than after finishing a shift.

For the umpteenth time, Emma wondered why she was doing this. But she was here now and, she decided, she was just going to get on with it. Heather probably wouldn’t even want to speak to her and she’d be back on the Tube within half an hour, but at least she could say she’d tried.

She received a few jeers from a group of teenagers as she walked past. She kept her head straight and ignored them, but her hands were clenched in her pockets with fear.

Inside, the building smelled of stale beer and urine, and Emma immediately wanted to turn round and walk back the way she’d come.

Instead she contemplated the stairs and the lift.

Bearing in mind that Heather lived on the sixteenth floor, Emma decided to take the lift, even though she feared it might break down on the way up.

She stepped inside and quickly pressed the button to floor sixteen.

As the doors closed, she breathed a sigh of relief that she was alone and no one had followed her inside.

The door to Heather’s flat had once been painted red, but that had largely peeled off, revealing a grey undercoat.

Before she could chicken out, Emma pressed the buzzer and waited.

Nothing happened so she pressed it again, half hoping that she’d had a wasted journey.

But then she heard footsteps, bolts slipping back and eventually the sound of a key turning in the lock.

When Heather opened the door, Emma tried her best not to reveal her shock.

Even though it was the early afternoon, Heather was wearing a dressing gown that had seen better days and bore the stains of many meals.

Her hair was lank and greasy, and looked as though it hadn’t been brushed in a long time. Her face was pasty and blotchy.

Emma stared. She didn’t know what to say.

‘What are you doing here?’ Heather asked.

‘I, um, wanted to come and see how you were.’

‘Come to gloat, have you?’

‘No! I was worried about you. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help.’

‘Help!’ Heather laughed harshly. ‘Don’t you think you’ve helped me enough? You certainly helped me out of my job.’

Emma tried to defend herself. ‘I’m sorry if you feel like that, but it wasn’t down to me.’

‘Started the ball rolling though, didn’t you? By snitching on me to management. That’s why I had to go off sick and that’s when they got me.’

‘I didn’t speak to management. I was going to. I was angry, but then I thought better of it and went to calm down. Then I heard you’d gone home and I was busy with the functions, so I never said anything.’

Heather frowned at her.

Emma was conscious of being on the landing. ‘Can we talk about this inside?’

Heather eventually spoke. ‘I suppose so,’ She turned and led the way into the living room. Emma followed her, shutting the door behind her.

Inside, the air smelled stuffy and, when Emma walked into the living room, she could see the reason why. The table and floors were littered with old takeaway cartons, dirty plates, mugs and glasses that looked like they’d been there for weeks.

‘You’d better sit down.’ Heather pointed to a sofa, which was littered with clothes and old newspapers. ‘Just push everything to one side.’

Emma cautiously did as she was told — she didn’t know what she would find beneath — and gingerly sat down on the edge of the sofa.

Heather plonked herself down into a battered armchair. ‘So come on, out with it, what are they saying about me?’

Emma paused. It was obvious that Heather wasn’t taking care of herself and she was reluctant to tell her the truth. She wasn’t here for revenge.

‘That you jumped before you were pushed.’

Heather laughed scornfully. ‘That’s very true. Largely thanks to you.’

This was the Heather of old. Twisting things so that everything was Emma’s fault.

‘No, actually, Heather, it’s largely down to you . Like I said, I never made a complaint about your bullying, but when I was asked questions I answered them honestly.’

‘What questions?’

‘Like where I was up to on my training programme. The training programme I didn’t know existed.

You were supposed to be my line manager, there to support me, yet all you did was bully me.

I wanted to learn, but all you wanted was to shove me into menial jobs and do the paperwork you were supposed to do but couldn’t be bothered. ’

‘That was all for your own good.’

‘How was that for my good?’

Emma flinched as Heather jumped up, but thankfully she just began to pace the cluttered room.

‘Because you came in, little Miss Perfect, thinking you knew everything. You needed to be brought down a peg or two.’

‘I didn’t think I knew everything.’

Heather turned towards Emma and laughed. ‘Oh, yes, you did. Why do you do it this way? Why don’t you do it like this? ’ She mimicked Emma’s voice.

‘I wanted to learn why things were done a certain way, that’s all.’

‘No, you didn’t. You wanted to criticise. Because you were so perfect, with your perfect looks, your perfect boyfriend and your rich friends.’

‘You were jealous.’

‘Damn right I was jealous.’ Heather was almost screaming at her.

‘You’ve never experienced half of what I have, never had to deal with the shit that life throws at you, and there you were thinking you were better than me.

’ She began to cry and slumped back down in the armchair with her head in her hands.

Emma was so shocked it was all she could do not to stare at her. Liz had been right all along — the bullying came from Heather’s own insecurities. But no matter what Heather had gone through, it didn’t give her the right to treat other people the way she had, even if it did explain it.

‘That’s not true. I wanted us to be friends. How many times did I ask you to come out for a drink with me? And how many times did you turn me down?’

Heather mumbled, ‘You only asked me out of pity.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ And while Emma didn’t want to tell Heather the real reason she had asked her, the truth was she had wanted to try to understand her. ‘I wanted to get to know you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I thought that maybe you were lonely.’

‘So you did pity me?’

‘No, I didn’t pity you, because I was lonely too.’

Heather laughed. ‘You? Lonely? How could you possibly be lonely with your perfect friends?’

‘They’re not perfect. But they are ambitious and sometimes that means they get caught up in their own lives. I wanted a friend in the place that I worked. Someone who understood my day-to-day life.’

‘Didn’t take you long to find some, though, did it, and what did you do when you did? You ridiculed me!’

‘I didn’t, Heather. It’s true, I didn’t defend you. It was very difficult to do that, the way you were behaving towards me. But it didn’t come from me.’

‘And I’m supposed to believe you?’

‘That’s up to you. I promise you it’s the truth, though.

’ Emma got up, preparing to leave. She was fighting a losing battle here, but at least she had done what she had come here to do.

‘I’m going now, but just remember, I took the trouble to come and see you.

Why would I do that if I hated you so much? ’

‘I . . .’ Heather faltered. ‘I don’t know.’

Emma picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

‘Please don’t go,’ Heather said. ‘I do believe you and, if it means anything to you, I’m sorry for what I did. I couldn’t help myself. I was just eaten up with jealousy.’

Slowly Emma sat back down. ‘You have nothing to be jealous of.’