Karen had already sent a text telling her she should spend the day at home and come to terms with what had happened. But Helen wanted to work. She knew it would focus her mind, but mainly it was because she was determined to make this the first day of her new life.
She had worked for this company as a new product developer for two years and loved the job – they made Sushi products for the major retailers. Although a large part of her working day was spent in the kitchen preparing Sushi she did have her own desk and computer in an adjoining side office which she shared with the marketing manager, Annette, and a young man called Tom, who was the company’s packaging technologist. They all got along well together and chatted freely about their homes and family lives, but Helen always hung back from making close friends at work – she was a firm believer in the saying, never mix business with pleasure.
‘Morning,’ Annette called as Helen removed her grey, wool wrap and hung it carefully on the coat stand behind their desks.
‘I’m making coffee,’ Helen replied when Annette popped her head around the kitchen door.
Annette grinned. ‘Ah, lovely. I could do with a strong one this morning. I had the grand-kiddies staying over last night and I’m whacked.’
She didn’t look it, Helen thought. In fact she appeared to be her usual carefully made-up professional self. She’d always admired Annette’s great flair and good taste in clothes and at the age of fifty-seven she looked at least ten years younger.
She carried the coffee through to their desks and they chatted briefly about the weather and weekend plans while they booted up the computers. Then they sank into silence reading emails that had arrived the previous night. Helen had her daily work schedule planned with standard sample packs to make and send out via a courier later in the afternoon and a management meeting arranged for ten o’clock, which they’d all been requested to attend.
‘Hmm,’ Annette muttered. ‘I wonder what this meeting is about.’
Helen shrugged her shoulders. ‘The request has been sent from the MD, so it must be something important…’
Deep in thought Helen looked across at Annette’s neat black court shoes and grey fitted suit. Then she looked down at her own flat brogues, black trousers and baggy, polo-necked sweater and sighed. She’d never been interested in clothes or fashion, not even when she was younger, and had only ever bought clothes out of necessity rather than for pleasure. Rob’s cutting remark about the fantastic wives of his colleagues stung and she felt tears prick the back of her eyes.
‘You okay?’ Annette probed.
Helen nodded, and getting up from her desk she headed towards the kitchen. ‘Yeah, I’m fine thanks. Just a little tired but it’s self-inflicted after drinking too much wine last night.’
The kitchen was a large square room and had been designed, along with the new factory extension, just before she started. It was bright and modern, with a cream tiled, non-slip floor and Helen found it easy to work in. The four walls were inset with benches and had plenty of cupboards underneath and long tall cupboards at the corners. A large, square island in the middle of the room had two hobs and ovens at opposite corners and was covered in grey granite which provided plenty of flat space to roll the Sushi.
Helen laid her paperwork for the samples she intended to make on the bench and gripped the edge as she choked back tears. Just concentrate on the products, she thought resolutely, and try to keep last night out of your mind. She opened the fridge and checked all the produce required that she’d collected from the factory chill the day before. She found the bamboo mats and cling film she needed then cut squares of seaweed. She inspected the quality of all the fresh cucumber, spring onions and avocado, wanting it all to be top grade.
With her preparations complete she joined Annette for the
She had worked for this company as a new product developer for two years and loved the job – they made Sushi products for the major retailers. Although a large part of her working day was spent in the kitchen preparing Sushi she did have her own desk and computer in an adjoining side office which she shared with the marketing manager, Annette, and a young man called Tom, who was the company’s packaging technologist. They all got along well together and chatted freely about their homes and family lives, but Helen always hung back from making close friends at work – she was a firm believer in the saying, never mix business with pleasure.
‘Morning,’ Annette called as Helen removed her grey, wool wrap and hung it carefully on the coat stand behind their desks.
‘I’m making coffee,’ Helen replied when Annette popped her head around the kitchen door.
Annette grinned. ‘Ah, lovely. I could do with a strong one this morning. I had the grand-kiddies staying over last night and I’m whacked.’
She didn’t look it, Helen thought. In fact she appeared to be her usual carefully made-up professional self. She’d always admired Annette’s great flair and good taste in clothes and at the age of fifty-seven she looked at least ten years younger.
She carried the coffee through to their desks and they chatted briefly about the weather and weekend plans while they booted up the computers. Then they sank into silence reading emails that had arrived the previous night. Helen had her daily work schedule planned with standard sample packs to make and send out via a courier later in the afternoon and a management meeting arranged for ten o’clock, which they’d all been requested to attend.
‘Hmm,’ Annette muttered. ‘I wonder what this meeting is about.’
Helen shrugged her shoulders. ‘The request has been sent from the MD, so it must be something important…’
Deep in thought Helen looked across at Annette’s neat black court shoes and grey fitted suit. Then she looked down at her own flat brogues, black trousers and baggy, polo-necked sweater and sighed. She’d never been interested in clothes or fashion, not even when she was younger, and had only ever bought clothes out of necessity rather than for pleasure. Rob’s cutting remark about the fantastic wives of his colleagues stung and she felt tears prick the back of her eyes.
‘You okay?’ Annette probed.
Helen nodded, and getting up from her desk she headed towards the kitchen. ‘Yeah, I’m fine thanks. Just a little tired but it’s self-inflicted after drinking too much wine last night.’
The kitchen was a large square room and had been designed, along with the new factory extension, just before she started. It was bright and modern, with a cream tiled, non-slip floor and Helen found it easy to work in. The four walls were inset with benches and had plenty of cupboards underneath and long tall cupboards at the corners. A large, square island in the middle of the room had two hobs and ovens at opposite corners and was covered in grey granite which provided plenty of flat space to roll the Sushi.
Helen laid her paperwork for the samples she intended to make on the bench and gripped the edge as she choked back tears. Just concentrate on the products, she thought resolutely, and try to keep last night out of your mind. She opened the fridge and checked all the produce required that she’d collected from the factory chill the day before. She found the bamboo mats and cling film she needed then cut squares of seaweed. She inspected the quality of all the fresh cucumber, spring onions and avocado, wanting it all to be top grade.
With her preparations complete she joined Annette for the
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