The Fallen Kite



Initially there was a tear. Then another. And another. Then the sobbing began. Heavy, hard sobbing that were probably important for two reasons. Reason number one – this was not an act. Reason number two – I was supposed to feel something. I wasn’t really sure how Jane was going to react but I had greater problems remonstrating with reason two, but I told myself that this was because the alcohol had anesthetized the experience.
“Hey...hey, come on Janey, it will be ok. He’ll turn up…”
“How can you be so blasé about it?” and she pulled away from my forced embrace. Black shadows around her puffy eyes.
“Well um, he’s only been missing for a couple of hours.”
“And what have you been doing these last couple of hours Steve?”
“Looking for him obviously!” I replied, trying to stay calm in the vain hope that Jane would not lose control, “and trying to contact you…anyway we won’t go into that. I’ve checked around the house and the garden.”
I thought this would be of some comfort, but Jane took a step away from me and dismissed this with a raised hand. My apathy obviously sobered her somewhat and her sobbing ceased.
“Get out there and look for him! It’s getting dark out there!”
“Of course.” I tried a smile, and a reassuring ‘he’ll turn up’ but neither had the desired effect. I turned around and started to head for the back door, picking up my jacket and an umbrella when I noticed the weather from the kitchen table.

The other week I fired someone for not being up to scratch. Well, really it was for a different reason so I called him into my office and proceeded to rehearse an act that would lead to an argument, which would stir a reaction, which would lead to the necessary dismissal. It was the only logical decision left for me. He was becoming overly familiar with female members of my staff. I noticed a lot of talking. Smiles and laughter. Then there was the body contact. Right there outside my office. Practically inside my office. He actually placed his left hand on or around the woman’s waist, although from my viewpoint, feasibly it could have reached lower. She didn’t seem to mind but I guess she was taken aback and didn’t know how to react. I read a newspaper column a few months earlier that stated that victims of sexual abuse at the workplace often didn’t know how to react and that too often the boss ignores the telltale signs. Paul was mid-twenties, spiky blond hair, overtly arrogant that I mistakenly presumed as confidence when I interviewed him for a trainee management post. He won everyone over with a dazzling smile and quirky quip. I remember him telling me he was engaged, but maybe that was for my and the office’s benefit. Anyway, I called him into my office the next day after witnessing the physical contact between him and Louise.
“Paul, how are you?”
“I’m good Mister Jones,” and he flashed a familiar practised wide grin. He was good at this. I took a moment to look back at him over the top of my designer glasses, in a vain attempt to unnerve him, but he remained smiling. I pretended to be leafing through his file, but it was all an act.
“How do you feel you’re getting on here at Hunter Recruitment?”
He looked away for a second. Clearly thinking of how best to answer this. I felt like I was swallowing oily water as I studied his performance.
“Well, I feel like I’m advancing and progressing in the manner that I expected to when I joined this forward-thinking company…”
”Uh-huh...it’s just that you’re not really, I’m afraid.”
“Um, I’m not really what?” he asked. His smile was replaced by a grimaced look of confusion. He leant forward looking ever more perplexed. I tried not to enjoy it.
“Progressing I’m afraid.”
“But…the bonuses, the commission, why did I receive these if I wasn’t doing a good job?”
“They are pretty much standard in your first year. Look its cutthroat in this industry. You’ve either got it or you haven’t. And you,” I paused for effect, “haven’t.”
After that there was a silence as he looked at me disbelievingly, unaware that I was really doing him a favour given the real circumstances of his dismissal. Eventually he leant back with hands in his hair, which soon became dishevelled and loose as he tore his hands forward and backward through it. Then some swear words from him (which obviously reinforced my decision) and I fired him. Some of his colleagues feigned upset at his departure, even some of the females but I assumed it was acted. They must have been relieved to see him go. I had already advertised his post before I called him in.

Stumbling through the woods that lay close to our house. Stepping over fallen branches, autumn leaves crunching under my feet, the rain pounding against my raised umbrella, I remember someone once telling me that “relationships mean love, marriage means convenience” before pausing for comedic effect and adding “divorce means money” at a New Year Party that Jane and I had attended. As the half-drunk, and presumably divorced man regaled this advice and laughed heartily, I joined in politely and even found myself slapping his back in the process. As he excused himself to “get another drink”, I remember contemplating the question what do children bring? A reasonable thought given that Jane was three months pregnant at the time. It wasn’t an accident however she told me, it was an unplanned blessing. Anyway, worry was the answer I formulated to my self-posed question if you are looking for a one-word answer. Although stress is undoubtedly a key factor in the parenting equation. I carried on stumbling through the forest of trees as best I could with the rain as it was and an umbrella pulled tightly over my head, obscuring a large part of my vision. I shouted his name in a kind of hopeless futility the way you do for a lost dog. I shouted it again. There was no one else out here after all. My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out and it was Jane.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Anything?” she replied, her voice high and desperate.
”Not yet, I’m just checking the woods.”
“I phoned the police.”
“Mmm, ok, well I’ll keep looking anyway.”
She sounded relieved by this, and it was obviously a good answer that I even added ‘I’ll find him’, even though the rain was now so heavy that with the umbrella pulled down as tightly to my head as possible, I could barely see five yards in front of myself.

Two days after I sacked Paul and one of the female staff (not Louise) resigned apparently in protest. I was secretly appalled and unnerved but accepted her resignation with grace and wished her good luck in her next choice of profession. I remember she could barely look at me, and that there was some shaking of the head on her part when she left the office and when I came home that night I had shouted at Jane and Ben about something that Jane later described as “trivial”. Then when Jane later spoke to me about my temper, I merely reminded her that I was a calm person but that sometimes everyone loses it occasionally. My job was stressful after all. She seemed to accept this. Although I did have to repeat it a couple of times before it really seemed to sink in.
“I’m a calm person Jane!”
I don’t think I shouted at the time, I tried to remain as serene as possible, like I did at all times but looking back, perhaps I had raised my voice a little