You still have the time Jen, to do all those things you want to do. Basically all I would say is get out there and enjoy yourself. Don’t sweat the small stuff, and the big stuff, well, I have a sneaky suspicion that looks after itself anyway.
I have a feeling that in ten years from now you’ll be in a great place. I can only imagine what terrific things the future holds for you: a fulfilling career, a home by the sea or perhaps a city apartment, a gorgeous husband (or not – I couldn’t really recommend marriage, but I know lots of people speak very highly of the institution), six beautiful children (I can definitely recommend having children – I only wish I’d had more so you’d have some siblings to share your future with), a golden labrador (ah, that could be my other regret, never getting the dog). Anyway, who knows? It might be none of those things; you might want to take a vow of silence and commit your life to God. Whatever it is, I don’t care, darling. I just want you to be happy in whatever it is you choose to do. If you can promise me one thing, it would be that!
I love you very much sweetheart, today, tomorrow and always, and you’ll always be here in my heart.
Keep an eye out for your Nan and Gramps, as they will you, I know.
Love Mum xxx
PS. Chuck out those scales! Now, do it now! Don’t waste another moment worrying about how much you weigh. Another half a stone or two isn’t going to kill you. You’re beautiful as you are. Remember that. Chin up, head held high and embrace your inner gorgeousness. Lord knows, you’ve got plenty to call on. Lots of love, darling. Mum xxx
I tipped my head back to look at the ceiling, the memories rushing back. Mum was right. I could hear her voice clearly, as if she’d just made an unscheduled visit from high up above and had wafted down into the spare bedroom. I could see her big wide smile, the way her bright blue eyes lit up her face and could feel her warm breath against my cheek, the warm, caressive tones to her voice echoing around the little room.
What would I say to her if she was here now?
‘Oh hi, Mum! That letter you wrote to me, the one about being brave and bold, and living life to the full. Yep, really good advice, only I haven’t actually done anything about it yet. I was just going to get round to it soon.’
Would she still think I was an amazing young woman or would she feel disappointed that I hadn’t taken my chances? I blinked away a rogue tear that threatened to fall and folded up the letter again in my lap.
‘You all right, love?’
‘Yep, I’m absolutely fine!’ I looked up at Gramps and smiled, my gaze travelling around the little room. I batted away the pang of nostalgia stirring in my stomach. Like me, this room was stuck in a time warp. We were both in desperate need of an overhaul.
A sense of urgency consumed me. I wanted to be that woman Mum was so certain I was destined to be. What the hell was I waiting for?
‘Come on Jen,’ I could hear Mum whispering in my ear, ‘It’s now or never!’
‘Can I have a minute please, Matt?’
‘Yeah sure, go through to the office. I’ll grab us a coffee.’
In fairness, I had actually tried to hand in my notice to Matt on three separate occasions already this year. My resignation letter had been growing worn and tatty in my pocket for some time now, but each time I tried to do the deed my attempts were thwarted by one thing or another.
So it shouldn’t have been any surprise to me that it was a full twenty minutes later before Matt backed his way through the door, juggling two mugs of coffee in his hands. Matt was a very hands-on boss. If there was a problem then he would be there sorting it out. He much preferred to be outside, more often than not zooming up and down the yard on a fork-lift truck, but he was just as happy to be on the shop floor lending a hand at the tills chatting away cheerily to the customers.
‘Sorry about that, I got waylaid!’ He had a big apologetic smile on his face. He shoved a couple of cardboard boxes away with his foot and with difficulty found a rare empty spot on his messy desk to place the brimming mugs, sending a whole heap of paperwork scattering to the floor in the process. I smiled and leant down to collect the papers, returning them to his desk.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll pick them up later.’ He sat down in his leather swivel chair and gave a little side-to-side jiggle. ‘So what was it you wanted to speak to me about then?’
‘Well…’
I wondered if I wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of my life. Matt was much more than a boss to me. Over the years he’d been a mentor, a funny and supportive colleague, and always a friend.
Today he was wearing the Browns standard issue green polo shirt, the same one that all the employees wore, with brown khaki waterproof trousers and big black boots. It only occurred to me now that with his tall, broad build and his well-defined physique, out of all the workforce, Matt probably suited the company uniform best of all. To be honest, with my mid-brown hair (mousy to anyone being unkind) and pale skin (pasty, to the unkind lady over there) it had never really done me any favours.
In comparison, it did Matt many favours. I wondered for the first time if he hadn’t chosen the earthy colours of the corporate identity to complement the warm brown of his eyes and the chestnut hue of his unruly curly hair. His strong, defined forearms were a deep golden brown, testament to the number of hours he spent outdoors, where he could always be found lending a hand to any department where there might be a shortfall of labour that day. You rarely saw Matt suited and booted or sitting behind his desk, come to that. Which probably explained the mess…
‘The thing is, Matt…’ I faltered. Why was I suddenly distracted by the colour of his eyes? It wasn’t too late to change my mind, to come up with an excuse for why I needed to talk to him.
‘The thing is, Matt. I wanted to give you this.’ Boldly, I handed over the envelope with my letter of resignation inside. Too late for backing out now.
He looked askance, at me and then at the envelope.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m really sorry, but I’ve decided it’s time for me to move on. It’s my resignation,’ I added, in case he was in any doubt.
He fell silent, looking at the paper in his hands, his eyes scanning the words, before he looked across at me again.
‘What? Why? You can’t leave! I won’t allow it. You’re my right-hand man, Jen. A central player in the Browns team. Why would you want to leave?’
I squirmed in my seat, my hands clasped together tightly in my lap. That was a good question. It would have been so much easier if I could have told him that I had a brilliant new job to go to, or that I was going off to university to study something unfathomable or I was rushing off to marry my soulmate and we were going to sail around the world together, but I had no such excuses.
‘Well, you know when I joined Browns it was only ever intended to be a temporary summer job. That was nine years ago now.’