“Come and work for me.”
“What?” Tanya is stunned, which gives me a tiny amount of satisfaction after the scathing dressing-down she’s just given me.
“I want to hire you. Come and work for me in Glasgow. I’ll give you a budget, responsibility and a job. As you’ve so bluntly pointed out, I see patients, you see people. So help me. There’s a lot to do and not enough people to do it so I’m going to hire you and trust you to work on this issue and get it right.” I shrug. “I spend a lot of time pointing out what other people are doing wrong, and I’ve fired people who made mistakes, but those are empty gestures. They don’t do anything. So come work for me. Help me.”
Tanya is gaping at me, gulping a bit like a fish and I can’t figure out why she’s so surprised.
“You know, I got this job because I was angry and determined and persistent and wouldn’t shut up. It’s not so shocking I’d hire you for the same reason, is it?”
“You’re fucking weird, you know that,” Tanya says, but her face breaks into a smile and I know she’s going to say yes. “When do I start?”
ROSAMIE
Mati, Philippines
Day 1,667
There is a satisfaction to working in business I never had as a nanny. When you’re looking after children, no matter how hard you work you have the same amount or more to do the next day. Three meals, bathing, clothing, playing, talking, cajoling, encouraging, disciplining, comforting. It never ends. My job now has clean lines and a strict to-do list. As I achieve things, they are ticked off the list and then I don’t have to do them again.
The private jet landed seven minutes before the East Pacific Air Traffic Restrictions Partnership came into effect. We landed and the flight attendant burst into deep, gulping sobs. I got off the plane as fast as I could, desperate to get away from the man who knew I was not who I said I was: a traitor and a thief. After days of traveling by bus, car and hours and hours of walking I finally got back to Mati, my home city, only for my mother to take one look at me and tell me to leave and go back to Manila. “There has never been a better time to make something of yourself. All the men are dead, and businesses need people. Go, go back to Manila right now. We’ll be fine here.”
She wasn’t wrong. Five years later, she’s the head of the barangay and has overseen the recovery of our village and a new infrastructure program while I have a whole new life. I still wonder about Angelica and Mrs. Tai though. Is Angelica looked after? Did they survive the riots? Tens of thousands died and the Great Fire took many more. The Chinese army took over before China disintegrated and now there’s a fragile peace with Singapore operating as an administrative region of Beijing State. I’m sure they were fine. Mrs. Tai had spine, she just didn’t like to use it.
Today’s figures arrive in my inbox. They’re better than average; a high proportion of good-quality plastic. I look over the numbers, needing to feel confident before my weekly call with my boss. This job is mine because I kept being in the right place at the right time and I worked hard. My official title is “Waste Supply Manager” in one of the Philippines’ largest recycling companies. I wonder what Mrs. Tai would say if she knew that I had built a career in garbage. I can imagine her wrinkling up her nose in disgust.
My assistant comes in. I put a smile on my face, ready for my call with my boss and start to push my half-finished lunch to the side of my desk.
“There’s a Mrs. Tai on the phone for you.”
I drop my bowl of soup and it splatters all over my crisp, cream linen trousers and shoes.
My assistant looks at me with intense concern. I’m not usually a clumsy person. I feel like she’s glimpsing into the past and seeing the old me.
“I, um. Put her through and shut the door behind you.” I’m wiping soup off my thighs when the phone rings.