A rainy London day and the taxis are busy, not one to spare for him. He doesn’t care. The weather suits his mood. Cold, gloom-laden. At 4.30, it’s the butt end of the work day for most. Normally he’d have several hours to go.
Not tonight. Tonight his back is to the City. His step is determined as he walks away, gaze firmly forward.
Let go, that is, fired. Not competitive enough. Not bringing the money in. No ‘fire in his belly’.
A £500k mortgage. Two kids at private school. Pony lessons, music lessons. Dinners out, theatre, concerts …
They won’t get far on the wife’s nurse’s wages. Part time, for fun, to keep her hand in, she says.
Yes, his mind is focused. He needs to get to the competitor and accept their recent offer before the word is out. The word that he has ‘no fire in his belly’.
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It was drizzling outside. One of those damp days for which London is so notorious.
People scurried across the wet streets, umbrellas held high, desperate to reach dry and warm shelter.
A taxi moves slowly in a half-hearted attempt to reach its unknown destination in a reasonable time frame.
Susie is worried. Work will finish in another half an hour and the new shoes she has bought and decided to try out only this morning will be ruined in this weather.
What am I to do, she thinks, they are very expensive and I don’t have another pair.
This was typical of her somewhat scatterbrain approach to life.
Not bothering to check on the weather conditions when she left for work, here she was once more regretting such an impulsive decision to show off her new refinery.
“I might just have to go barefoot,” she mutters half out loud. “Mind you, if I do I’ll be frozen by the time I reach the Tube.”
Susie gazed absently out her office window. Maybe it would let up before she had to leave.
The rain gods didn’t seem to share her optimism as the drizzle kept tumbling.
“Blow it,” thought Susie. “I guess I’ll just have to risk it.”
She turned off the light and, exiting the building, tiptoed towards the train station, new shoes in hand.
Oh my goodness. It’s a cutthroat world – no doubt about it.