Page 4 of It's Now or Never

In fairness, I had actually tried to hand in my notice to Matt on three separate occasions already this year. My resignation letter had been growing worn and tatty in my pocket for some time now, but each time I tried to do the deed my attempts were thwarted by one thing or another.

So it shouldn’t have been any surprise to me that it was a full twenty minutes later before Matt backed his way through the door, juggling two mugs of coffee in his hands. Matt was a very hands-on boss. If there was a problem then he would be there sorting it out. He much preferred to be outside, more often than not zooming up and down the yard on a fork-lift truck, but he was just as happy to be on the shop floor lending a hand at the tills and chatting away cheerily to the customers.

‘Sorry about that, I got waylaid!’ He had a big apologetic smile on his face. He shoved a couple of cardboard boxes awaywith his foot and with difficulty found a rare empty spot on his messy desk to place the brimming mugs, sending a whole heap of paperwork scattering to the floor in the process. I smiled and leant down to collect the papers, returning them to his desk.

‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll pick them up later.’ He sat down in his leather swivel chair and gave a little side-to-side jiggle. ‘So what was it you wanted to speak to me about then?’

‘Well…’

I wondered if I wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of my life. Matt was much more than a boss to me. Over the years he’d been a mentor, a funny and supportive colleague, and always a friend.

Today he was wearing the Browns standard issue green polo shirt, the same one that all the employees wore, with brown khaki waterproof trousers and big black boots. It only occurred to me now that with his tall, broad build and his well-defined physique, out of all the workforce, Matt probably suited the company uniform best of all. To be honest, with my mid-brown hair (mousy to anyone being unkind) and pale skin (pasty, to the unkind lady over there) it had never really done me any favours.

In comparison, it did Matt many favours. I wondered for the first time if he hadn’t chosen the earthy colours of the corporate identity to complement the warm brown of his eyes and the chestnut hue of his unruly curly hair. His strong, defined forearms were a deep golden brown, testament to the number of hours he spent outdoors, where he could always be found lending a hand to any department where there might be a shortfall of labour that day. You rarely saw Matt suited and booted or sitting behind his desk, come to that. Which probably explained the mess…

‘The thing is, Matt…’ I faltered. Why was I suddenly distracted by the colour of his eyes? It wasn’t too late to change mymind, to come up with an excuse for why I needed to talk to him.

‘The thing is, Matt. I wanted to give you this.’ Boldly, I handed over the envelope with my letter of resignation inside. Too late for backing out now.

He looked askance, at me and then at the envelope.

‘What is it?’

‘I’m really sorry, but I’ve decided it’s time for me to move on. It’s my resignation,’ I added, in case he was in any doubt.

He fell silent, pulled the letter out, furrowed his brow as his eyes scanned the words, before he looked across at me again. His expression was filled with disappointment.

‘What? Why? You can’t leave! I won’t allow it. You’re my right-hand man, Jen. A central player in the Browns team. Why would you want to leave?’

I squirmed in my seat, my hands clasped together tightly in my lap. That was a good question. It would have been so much easier if I could have told him that I had a brilliant new job to go to, or that I was going off to university to study something unfathomable or I was rushing off to marry my soulmate and we were going to sail around the world together, but I had no such excuses.

‘Well, you know when I joined Browns it was only ever intended to be a temporary summer job, and that was nine years ago.’

‘Yes, and look at you now, Jen! You’re part of the Browns family. How will we ever manage without you?’

‘You will,’ I said, with a small smile. ‘Look, I just wanted to let you know my plans, although I’m in no desperate hurry to get away so can give you a few months’ notice. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch for the busy summer season.’

‘Right, I see…’ Matt’s disappointment was so palpable that I almost felt like saying ‘no, don’t worry, I didn’t mean it,’ but I was determined to hold on to my resolve this time.

It had been my first job after finishing my A-levels, a way to earn some extra cash before going off to university in the September, but when Mum fell ill everything changed. There was no way I was going to leave her and move three hundred miles to the other end of country. A gap year spent working at the garden centre and nursing Mum back to health would have been the perfect compromise, but it wasn’t as straightforward as that. Mum’s illness was long and drawn out and when she died two years’ later, my desire to go to uni died with her. In the long and dark days following her death, my job had been a lifeline; it gave me something to wake up for in the mornings, a comforting routine that brought an element of normality to my life. Matt had been instrumental in offering me that small sense of hope.

Since then I’d worked in every department there was; from serving in the restaurant, to working outside caring for the plants, to sourcing items for the gift store, which had become my permanent role over the last couple of years.

Being part of the Browns family felt safe and reassuring, but sometimes those family ties could be suffocating.

‘If I don’t leave now, I might never leave. I might spend the rest of my life here, picking up my pension when I’m a very old lady.’

Matt grunted.

‘And would that be such a bad thing?’

I laughed. Obviously it wouldn’t seem that way to Matt. This was his life. He’d been brought up in the business, it was all he’d ever known. The success of the store today was down hugely to Matt’s hard work and commitment and he could be proud of that, but to me it was ultimately just a job.

‘I’m sorry, Matt. I promise you it’s nothing personal. It’s just something I feel I need to do right now.’

‘Well, I can’t say I’m not saddened by this news. Is there nothing I can do to make you change your mind? If it’s about the money then I’m sure we could come to some arrangement.’

‘No, it’s not about the money or even the job. I’ve loved working here, you know that, and I’ve made so many good friends. It’s just the right time for me to move on.’