or else return to work on the following Monday, so I had called him,
not wanting to go into the office for fear of encountering intrusive questions from my coworkers
without having prepared some appropriate responses first. “Eleanor!” Bob had said.
“Great to hear from you! How are things?” “Thank you for the flowers,” I said.
“I’m fine... that’s to say, I’m much better, thank you, Bob. It’s been difficult, but I’ve been making good progress.”
“Brilliant,” he said, “that’s brilliant news! So, do you know when you’re, eh, when you’re likely to be back?”
I heard an intake of breath as he worried about what he’d just said.
No rush, now... no rush whatsoever. I’m not pressuring you—take as long as you need. Not until you’re absolutely ready.
“Don’t you want me to come back, Bob?” I said, daring an attempt at humor.
He snorted. “Eleanor, the place has been falling apart without you!
Jesus Christ, Billy hasn’t the first clue how to raise an invoice, and as for Janey...”
“Bob, Bob, I was joking,” I said. I smiled, and I must admit to feeling slightly gratified at how poorly my colleagues had coped in my absence.
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