Eleanor jolted back to the moment. She must have drifted off. The neon-filled reality of her morning came into focus, and the buzz of her colleagues’ chattering rose above the rows of little white cubicles. The airless space was filling with false enthusiasm.
‘It 100% will save you money on your bill…’
‘You’ll wish you did it years ago…’
‘You won’t regret it…’
As she clutched her morning coffee, she felt the blissful rush of the caffeine kicking in, ‘You can do this… You’ve GOT to do this.’ Her morning mantra.
‘Eeeeeleanor! Having another coffee? Chop, chop, those policies aren’t going to sell themselves.’
Her grip tightened on the ‘Number One Daughter’ mug as she took a deep breath. Her lips nearly cracked as she swung her head around to smile directly at the source of the irritation. That bloody Kylee, hip cocked and mouth all pursey. Seriously, what age was she anyway? But Eleanor needed this job.
‘Right on it, Kylee, ready for a great day!’ she beamed, hoping that her insincerity wasn’t dripping too much.
‘Awesome! Don’t let me down,’ and the manager strutted off to find the next poor slacker who might be hiding in their box.
Eleanor put on her headset and hit the autodial button, bracing herself for the day ahead. Her eyes were stinging with tiredness, but it was nothing she wasn’t used to. She’d get through it like she did every day. And besides, it wasn’t all bad—she actually enjoyed those moments when she could help people and genuinely make a difference.
As she waited, she felt a new message vibrate in her pocket. No phones on the job! She ignored it for a second, but it buzzed again. With a furtive glance, she saw enough for her world to freeze.
‘Mum…accident…come now’
The office hum, the drone of the air conditioning, all of it faded away.
‘Eeeeeeeeleanor! My office, please, now!’ Trilled Kylee as she clicked her fingers and gesticulated with a sense of urgency. ‘Chop, chop!’ Really?? Tearing her eyes from the shock of the text message, Eleanor registered the clicking woman, got up from her chair, and shuffled uncertainly towards her. That fake smile still stretched on her lips.
As the door closed, Eleanor noticed that there were three of them in the cramped office. Kylee got straight to the point, ‘Eleanor, I need you to call Mrs Jones back. Tell her you were mistaken and that Mark’s original quote was correct.’
Mark was THAT guy. He slithers around the office, always with a wink and some comment bordering on the sackable. Usually so full of himself, Mark was now slumped at the table, staring at his hands. No inappropriate eye contact now.
Eleanor thought for a moment, oh yes, that’s right, she remembered now the sweet lady she’d been chatting to last week. She’d been looking for Mark, but he’d pulled his signature move—smoothly making the sale, then disappearing when the hard questions came up.
‘Mrs Jones is elderly and vulnerable,’ Eleanor began. ‘She doesn’t need the full platinum package, and she can’t afford it. Mark misled her. Deliberately.’
Kylee’s false-lashed eyes narrowed, but Eleanor didn’t stop.
‘When she called back with some questions and Mark wasn’t available, I was more than happy to go through it all with her. She chose to withdraw her order.’
The manager paused and then, as if she hadn’t heard Eleanor at all, said to her, ‘We need this sale to reach target threshold for the team, so I’ll ask again, call the old duck, apologise and tell her that you were wrong, and Mark was right’.
The sale mattered, Eleanor knew it. And the money really mattered. She had no idea how she’d pull through this month without that bonus.
And then it happened. Something exploded inside her. Eleanor rose up tall with every centimetre of her slight stature and icily stared up at the other woman towering over her in Famous Footwear heels. Kylee unsteadily took a step back. Eleanor calmly responded,
‘You want me to call her back and lie? You want me to take responsibility for his dishonesty?’
Eleanor pointed her finger accusingly at Mark’s dogged shape, shrinking further into the chair. There was no smile on her lips.
‘I won’t do it. And I won’t be making any more calls today.’
With that, she turned to the door and marched out, eyeballing directly anyone who dared to watch from behind their white cell walls.
After clearing a few personal items from her desk, Eleanor found herself outside, climbing into a taxi she knew she couldn’t afford.
‘City Nursing Home, please.’
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