Page 14 of Just Like That

‘Actually… how about we take a pause?’ I look around the room at the slightly surprised faces, then focus my attention on Gwen. ‘The most obvious and easiest way forward would be for us to continue where you left off, but I’m not sure that will get us the results you’re looking for. I think the best way I can help you is to really understand what you do… what the park’s all about.’

‘You want to get those nice clean corporate hands dirty?’ Nick gives a little snort and I notice a couple of his colleagues chuckling along, making it clear they think I’m one of these ivory towers-based consultants who does little more than play around on PowerPoint.

Well, that they have very wrong, and no matter how much I don’t want to be here, I am not at all work-shy, nor do I have any aversion to getting involved in the thick of things. I’ve lugged crates of beer around, cleaned out mobile kitchen cabinets and donned a floor polisher on many an occasion.

‘Yes, I do.’ I look Nick straight in the eye to show him I’m not going to be intimidated by his cutting remarks. ‘Gwen, if you don’t mind, I’d like to use the next few days to shadow your staff here at the park and get to know the whole operation…’ I tail off as Gwen looks slightly uncomfortable.

‘How… eh… how much extra will that cost us?’ she cringes as she asks this question, clearly uncomfortable with having to draw attention to the cash flow situation.

‘If I have my way, nothing. I see it as an essential part of offering you the solutions you need. If you’re in agreement, I’ll call Craig and suggest that I spend the rest of today up until Thursday lunchtime on immersion activities – that’s just getting to know and understand your operation, as I already mentioned. Then, on Thursday afternoon, I’d like to bring you all back together, if you can spare the time, for the brainstorming session. How does that sound?’

‘It sounds wonderful, provided you can convince your boss.’

‘I’m confident I can. I’ll call him now, won’t be long.’ Holding up two fingers, I get up and leave the meeting room, and catch Nick rolling his eyes and sighing with impatience as I go.

A few minutes later, I return to the room with Craig’s blessing, which I knew wouldn’t be a problem. He may have tanked my career due to my life situation, but he still trusts my instincts and expertise.

‘All sorted,’ I say to Gwen.

‘Wonderful.’ She bangs the table with her fist delightedly. ‘And while you were out of the room, we took the liberty of planning your familiarisation activities. Lauren and her team can give you a quick overview of the office activities; we’ll also arrange a tour of the catering and retail operations, but the real “immersion” will be in the park itself. There’s no one more knowledgeable and skilled with the animals than Nick, so you’ll be spending the majority of the next couple of days with him. I hope the two of you will be able to get along.’

A feeling of deep dread washes over me. Gwen gives me a hopeful look and I involuntarily glance at Nick, who looks mighty pissed off that he’s been volunteered for this. Well, that makes two of us, mate. But today I’m Jess, senior events manager, rather than Jess who is repulsed by lecherous men in overalls, so I’m just going to have to be my best professional self and suck it up.

‘I’m sure we’ll get along fine,’ I reassure her, while digging my nails into my palm to keep me from giving myself away.

Chapter 7

Straight after the meeting, I’m able to put some much-needed distance between myself and Nick by persuading Gwen that I first need to experience the wildlife park through a customer’s eyes. This is not actually a lie. If I’m going to help them bring more people through their gates at a premium price, I have to get a feel for what’s on offer – and what might create that draw. Do I need to do it right now? That’s debatable. But, given what I really want to do is stomp across to Nick and ball him out for his behaviour at the meeting, I figure I’d be best taking the time now to get myself back on an even keel and able to tolerate his miserable puss.

After changing into my running shoes in my car, and with the park map Lauren helpfully provided me with, I set off along one of the tarmacked pathways I walked along earlier with Gwen.

There are animal enclosures everywhere, which seem bigger than those at the zoos I’ve visited. There also appear to be more animals of different species sharing these ‘habitats’ than I’ve seen before (the ones that won’t eat each other, I’m assuming). Information boards outside each one give me the name and an illustration of each of the occupying residents, as well as an overview of how they live in the wild. In most cases, the boards also share that these species are under threat, with declining numbers, and the conservation work that is taking place worldwide to protect them. It ignites a conflicted feeling in me: I really enjoy seeing the animals – their vibrant colours, fascinating behaviours, the wonderful sounds they emit – but knowing so many of them are here not just for educating the public, but because they’re being squeezed out of their natural habitats or hunted by humans, is saddening.

I explore every part of the park, gasping in delight when I spot a tiny baby marmoset clinging to its mother’s back, staring in awe (and a little terror) at the majestic male tiger as he stalks back and forth behind the glass panel of the enclosure, and giggling with fascination at the flamingos performing a dance-like walk in almost perfect synchronisation, their heads dipping and flicking from side to side, bright feathers pink as candyfloss.

After an hour or so, I make a pit stop at one of the cafes to grab a cup of tea to warm myself up. It’s a cool day for late July, and having expected this to be a quick visit, I’ve not brought a jacket with me. Taking a seat at one of the tables, I sip at my drink while staring out of the window and quickly become distracted by the personal issues in my life: my effective demotion at work, the toll my caring responsibilities for Seth are taking on me (though I wouldn’t have it any other way) and the infuriating absence of our parents in his rehabilitation, and our lives generally. While their financial contribution is welcome, money doesn’t make up for a lack of presence and love. And even though he’d never say it out loud, I know that Seth is feeling abandoned by them. I sense it, and if it were me in his position, I’d feel it too. I’m deeply resentful of their laissez-faire attitude and their ability to leave me holding this responsibility alone.

I’m also exhausted, which acts as confirmation that I’ve done the right thing in reducing my hours at work. The idea of doing that just to ‘be there’ for Seth was a naïve one, because the reality is that I would never have been able to keep working full time with everything I need to do for him. Not that I begrudge him any of it, and I know he’d do the same for me. It’s just hard, because my life has changed so drastically and my career ambitions have been put on hold. I still fully believe I could handle the bigger contracts and that Craig is treating me unfairly in that respect, though, and I’m determined to get at least a couple of them back.

As these thoughts swirl in my mind, they stir a familiar set of emotions in me: sadness, resentment and a feeling of having a huge weight on my shoulders. Deciding they’re the last thing I need to be carrying around today, especially when I’m facing an afternoon in the company of noxious Nick, I get to my feet, scraping the legs of the chair loudly across the floor as I do, and stride out of the cafe.

Resuming my walkabout, I reach a fork in the path I’m following and take a left while making a mental note to circle back and see what’s along the other one later. I pass an enclosure of some docile-looking mammals called capybaras, which are native to Central and South America, one housing a type of New World porcupine (what a surprise that was, discovering that some porcupines climb trees!), and some fascinating beasts called okapis that look like a cross between a giraffe and a zebra. Then I reach an enclosure where, at first, I can’t see anything at all. It’s not as big as some of the others, but it’s full of logs and branches, large rocks, and plenty of areas for climbing. Peering inside, there’s still no sign of life, so I look for the information board that will tell me who’s inside and what I need to be looking for. There isn’t one, so I shrug and move on, crossing to another enclosure that, according to the sign, is housing an animal called a red panda.

Craning my neck, I spot a flash of colour behind a tree, but the occupier seems either shy or not in the mood for being stared at. Well, I don’t blame them really. I’m not sure I would be so obliging of nosey humans myself. I’m about to give up and move on again when the red panda pops out from behind the tree and climbs onto a branch, giving me a front row view of it in its full glory.

‘Look at you!’ I cry with delight. ‘You’re the cutest, fluffiest little thing.’

I watch as the animal scopes me out, then gets up on its hind legs like a tiny little person and has a good sniff at a piece of vegetation next to it.

‘Oh, you are justadorable,’ I coo at it in what can only be described as a babyish voice. ‘I can’t get over how adorable you are. Can I take you home?’

‘We don’t allow that,’ comes a gruff voice from behind me and my head shoots round in surprise.

To my dismay it’s Nick, and he has clearly heard every word. Heat creeps through my body; I’m partly embarrassed at being caught behaving so unprofessionally, and partly irritated that he justhadto be there at that moment.

‘Well, obviously,’ I snipe at him. ‘I didn’t really mean I wanted to take him home. It’s a figure of speech.’

‘It’s a her, actually.’

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