When I Ran Away, Ilona Bannister [read 50 shades of grey TXT] 📗

sitting here, and the last time I thought about it was so long ago and my brain is so rattled and shaken that it actually didn’t even occur to me that it would come up today and now what do I say, oh my God, oh my God…

“Ah, Gigi, you’re here, I presume this is the little one?” Lara, the big boss, the senior partner, appears at the door to Aneela’s office. Black-frame glasses, white hair, Ferragamos, pencil skirt suit—an icicle in heels. The only one in the office who I could never make laugh. I didn’t know I’d see her today. It’s my “Keeping in Touch” day, the KIT. It’s the law here. You get paid for two of them on your mat leave. I’m supposed to come back to work and touch base and pretend like nothing’s happened and show them that I’m the same person who left here a few months ago—if not better—and I’m ready to get back to my desk and prove my worth and show that I can’t wait to work twice as hard now to keep the same job.

I meant to get a new outfit for today. I also meant to cook Johnny a real dinner and get a haircut and stop drinking so much and have sex with Harry and deal with my new mustache. And I meant to keep at the GDL to show them, Aneela and Lara, that I was serious about what they said, that I was going to put in the work and I was going to do it and become a lawyer so my boys would be proud.

But I didn’t do any of those things.

Aneela called a month ago to set up this meeting and she said then we could have lunch with the team. No KITs in America. At home there’s just your first day back after your six to eight weeks off and you better get back at it. But Keeping in Touch days here are supposed to help you transition. They’re supposed to be friendly. Except that they’re terrifying.

Aneela really wants me to make it. That’s what she wrote on the inside cover of Lean In. To get you to the finish line, Gigi, Love, A x. And maybe I would and maybe I could if I was one of those women who was back in shape and reading the legal press to catch up on what I missed and saying things like, “Oh, I can’t wait to go back to work!” and, “Of course I love the baby but work is so much easier than staying at home!” and, “You know, I love being a mother but I just really can’t wait to use my brain again,” and all those things working mothers are supposed to say about how much it sucks to be at home raising your kids. But I’m also one hundred percent certain that when I walk out of this office today it’ll be for the last time.

“Gigi?” Lara breaks me out of my trance.

“Sorry, I had a bad night, I’m a little out of it.” Wrong thing to say.

“Yes, well, babies ruin all your plans, don’t they?” Lara says, not in the joking way people say things like that, but in the way that makes me think she eats babies for breakfast.

“Yes, sorry, I’m still just getting used to things. It’s really nice to see you, Lara. I’m looking forward to coming back.” I pick Rocky up to do something with my hands. “Do you want to hold him?” I ask her. Of course she doesn’t want to hold him. Lara is the last person on Earth who would ever want to hold my baby.

But Aneela, always good in awkward situations, breaks in, “Oh, please, me first, I want a go.” She doesn’t really want to hold him either, she wants to get back to talking about what the fuck I’m doing because they’re paying for my GDL and I’m avoiding the question.

“Yes, well, I’m sure you have a lot to talk about,” Lara says. “I’ll see you at lunch. He’s lovely, Gigi. Nice to see you.”

When she leaves I turn to Aneela. “She’s coming to lunch? Is it, like, a meeting?” I ask her as she hands Rocky back. He’s fractious, thrashing around, doesn’t want to be held so I start jostling him in my lap, waving my keys at him.

“There’ve been some changes to our structure, Gigi, she thought it would be a good idea to speak to the whole team, and since you were coming today…”

I stammer, “But, but…”

“It’s alright, it’s all very relaxed, we all understand, we know you’ve been away.” She’s trying so hard to be good to me, she wants to be the good boss who does the right thing, who supports mothers going back to work, but there’s a strain in her voice. “Of course, I didn’t realise you were bringing the baby today. Do you think he’ll manage?”

I didn’t think I was bringing the baby today either. I wanted to have my head together, be presentable, actually see if I could come back here and I got Rebecca to babysit but she canceled on me this morning due to an art emergency or a crustless quiche crisis or some other rich-lady bullshit and I was left with a choice: cancel lunch and the meeting because I had no childcare and set that precedent before I even got back to work, or bring him to show that I could handle it. And pray. Other women brought their babies to the office—it’s Europe. They do shit like that.

“We’ll do the best we can,” I say. This is going to be awful. He’s not one of those babies who just sits there and stares at stuff. He started crawling before six months, he pulls up on everything, tries to cruise and always falls down with a wail of frustration. He’s thrown himself out of his crib twice. His arms are in constant motion. He