Ive just got back from a weeks sick leave, and the very first thing I saw was Evelyn staring at the kitchen sink, her brow furrowed.
Michael, youve left the tap running again! The whole basin is dripping with rustcoloured water, she said, pointing at the streaks on the white enamel.
I wasnt even in the kitchen this morning, I called back from the hallway, wiping my hands on a towel. Did you forget to turn it off yourself?
Ive been on sick leave for a month. Im not going to be the one fiddling with taps just for a bit of fun! she snapped.
I slipped a dish of porridge onto the table. Eat this. The doctor said you need proper nutrition.
Its bland, but itll have to do, she muttered, chewing slowly. My operation had left me weak; every movement felt like a chore. I watched her eat, feeling the weight of my slow recovery.
It had been almost a month since the ambulance whisked me away with a perforated appendix that had become inflamed. Two weeks in hospital, another two at home. Evelyn had lost weight, her skin went pallid, and she looked as if she were sixty, though she was only fortyfive.
Mike, hows work been? Who have you spoken to? she asked between spoonfuls.
I rang Peter Harding. He told me to take it easy and not rush back.
Anything else?
There was something oddly false in my voice. Evelyns eyes narrowed as she studied me. I averted my gaze, focusing on stirring the pan.
Mike, youre holding something back, she said.
No, nothings wrong! Dont make a story up.
Im not making it up. I can feel it.
I sighed, set the sponge down, and faced her. Alright, there is something. But you dont need to worry, okay? No point in getting worked up.
Her heart hammered. What is it?
Well Rebecca has taken a temporary spot in your department while youve been off.
Silence fell. Evelyn stared at me, disbelief written across her face.
Rebecca? Your sister? In the accounts team?
Yes. Shed been looking for work, remember? Peter had a vacancy and put her in as cover.
So my place, Evelyn said, her voice low.
Its technically that, but its only temporary. Youll be back and everything will be as it was.
She pushed the plate away, appetite gone in an instant. Rebecca Michaels twentysevenyearold sister, tall, with a flawless smile and ambitions as big as a skyscraper had been a presence ever since shed first been introduced at our wedding. From the start, Evelyn felt a cold shiver when Rebecca looked down on her, as though she were unworthy of a husband. After we married, Rebeccas disdain became outright contempt.
Mike married an accountant, shed mutter to her friends, and Evelyn would hear, Imagine, an accountant! Nothing could be duller.
But Michael loved Evelyn or at least thats how it seemed. Wed been together fifteen years, and through all that time Rebecca kept her distance, popping up at office parties with perfunctory gifts before slipping back into her own life. Now she had taken Evelyns spot.
Why didnt you tell me? Evelyn asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
I didnt want to add to your stress. You were ill.
When did this happen?
About two weeks ago.
Two weeks! And you kept silent!
Calm down, Evelyn! Its not permanent. Youll recover, youll come back, and Rebecca will go.
Rebecca, Evelyn repeated bitterly. Always Rebecca.
She rose and went to the bedroom. I stayed in the kitchen, hearing her mutter curses under her breath. Lying on the bed later, she stared at the ceiling, thinking of Rebecca sitting at her desk, chatting with Peter, flashing that perfectly rehearsed smile.
Evelyn remembered how shed started at the firm twenty years ago, fresh and eager, moving from assistant accountant to senior specialist, knowing every ledger and document inside out. Now a stranger though family occupied her position.
She spent another week on sick leave; the doctor extended it, saying it was still too early to return. Yet she was restless, wanting to get back and reclaim her place, to push Rebecca out as one would a squatter.
I tried to persuade her: Maybe stay a bit longer. Health comes first.
She sensed I was hiding something. I was coming home later than usual, answering questions evasively, spending evenings glued to my phone, smiling at messages.
Whats that youre chatting to? she asked one night.
Its Rebecca. Shes checking on work, Im explaining things.
Why doesnt she ask me?
Probably she doesnt want to bother you.
She fell silent. Finally my sick leave ended. She dressed carefully the next morning, chose her best suit, applied a touch of makeup, brushed her hair, and looked at herself in the mirror a pale, aged version of herself. She hid it well.
Im off to work, she told me over breakfast.
Maybe you should rest a bit more, I suggested, worried.
Im fine. The sick leaves over. I need to go.
I walked her to the door, kissed her cheek, and said, Good luck. She caught the bus to the office, nervous about what awaited her: colleagues, Peter, and especially Rebecca.
The office sat in an old brick building in the city centre. On the third floor she pushed open the familiar door to find the receptionist, Sally, at her desk.
Evelyn! Youre back! How are you? Sally chirped.
Fine. Im recovered. Wheres Peter? Evelyn asked.
Right over there. Come on in.
She passed the accounts department, glimpsed Rebecca at her former desk a striking figure in a sleek dress, hair loose, laughing with Marianne, a colleague of hers.
Evelyn turned away, walked further, and knocked on Peters office.
Come in, he said, looking up from some papers.
He stood as she entered, his face brightening. Evelyn, good to see you! Hows your health?
Fine. Heres my sickleave certificate, she handed him the document.
He skimmed it, then said, Alright, so you can start today.
He paused, then added, Evelyn, we need to talk. Have a seat.
She sat, heart thudding.
While you were away I brought Rebecca in as cover your sisterinlaw. Shes performed well, quickly picking up the workload. Clients are happy.
And?
Peter leaned back, hands clasped. Given your age and recent illness, perhaps you might consider a lighter role? Maybe HR assistant? Same pay, less pressure.
Evelyns blood ran cold. Youre firing me?
No, just offering a transfer. The accounts desk will stay with Rebecca.
She stood, hands shaking, fists clenched. Peter, Ive been here twenty years. No complaints, no errors. And youre willing to replace me because of some girl?
Dont take it personally, Evelyn. Its a business decision.
What about my place? Its being taken by Rebecca.
Peter sighed. You could stay in HR, or you could look elsewhere. The choice is yours.
Evelyn left his office, barely holding back tears, and walked back to the accounts area. Rebecca turned, her face breaking into a sugary smile.
Evelyn! Hello! Feeling better?
What are you doing here? Evelyn asked coldly.
Working. Peter offered me the role, I accepted. Youre not opposed, are you?
Of course I am.
Rebeccas smile hardened. Evelyn, its just business. Nothing personal.
Youve heard that line before, havent you? Evelyn retorted. It sounds rehearsed.
Rebecca shrugged, returning to her computer. Think what you will. Im here legally.
Colleagues glanced away, awkwardly. Evelyn asked the empty room, Is anyone going to say something? No one answered.
She exited the office, descended the stairs, and sat on a bench outside the building, pulling out her phone. She called me.
Evelyn, hows it going? Back at work?
Theyve demoted me. Your sister took my spot. Did you know about this?
There was a pause. Evelyn
Answer me. Did you know?
Rebecca said Peter was pleased with her work
You knew they were planning to push me out?
Its not a push, just an alternative role
You two conspired! Your sister, the boss! Youre all against me!
Calm down! Its not a conspiracy, Evelyn!
She hung up, staring at passing pedestrians, cars humming by. Her world seemed to collapse.
Wed met in our thirties, both a little older, tired of loneliness. I was an engineer, she an accountant. Wed connected at a mutual friends birthday, exchanged numbers, dated, married after six months, bought a flat, later a house. No children my health made it difficult but we were content. At our wedding Rebecca, my younger sister, had made a snide comment about someone finally taking an interest in me, and that lingered in Evelyns mind.
All those years Rebecca stayed on the fringes, hopping jobs, occasionally receiving my financial help while Evelyn kept quiet. Now shed taken a bite out of Evelyns life.
That evening Evelyn came home, and I was trying to make dinner.
Evelyn, lets talk calmly, I urged.
I dont want to talk.
Please, I didnt want it to turn out like this!
What did you want? For me to hand over my job to your sister? To be happy about it? She stared at me, her eyes full of hurt.
I thought it was temporary while you were ill, I said.
Peter offered me a position as HR assistant. An assistant! Thats an insult!
Ill speak to her, ask her to leave.
Its too late. Shes settled in. Peters happy, the teams quiet. Im alone against everyone.
Youre not alone. Im with you!
You? The one who knew and kept quiet? Who let your sister take my place?
I didnt let it happen. She came in after it was already decided. I found out later.
Then you kept quiet. You lied for two weeks.
I had nothing to say.
Evelyn retreated to the bedroom, lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling an icy emptiness.
The next day she returned to the office and agreed to the HR transfer. Peter nodded, pleased.
Wise choice. Lets get the paperwork sorted.
She began the monotonous HR work filing personnel records, completing forms a far cry from the numbers shed mastered for two decades.
Rebecca strutted through the office like a peacock in designer dresses and heels, flashing her perfect hair. Shed greet Evelyn sweetly, Hi, Evelyn! How are you? and Evelyn turned away, silent.
Colleagues whispered sympathy. Marianne leaned in, Evelyn, hang in there. Its unfair.
No one defended her.
A week later, a friend, Diane, called. Evelyn, I heard youve got trouble at work. Is it true?
Its true. They moved me, I said.
How did they move you?
I explained, she gasped. Thats pure spite! Your sister!
Are you just going to sit there?
Fight back! You cant let the boss side with her.
Im exhausted, Diane. I just want peace.
Peace in someone elses seat? No. Lets meet, talk it through.
We met at a café the next day. Diane, a bubbly teacher, had known Evelyn since school.
Tell me everything, she urged over coffee.
Evelyn recounted the hospital, the appendix, Rebecca, the talk with Peter. Diane listened, nodding.
I think theres something shady. Peter wouldnt replace a veteran for a newcomer without a reason.
What do you mean?
Maybe Rebecca has something over him. Hes been unusually eager to keep her.
Evelyn considered this. Peter had always valued experience. Something didnt add up.
Maybe theres truth to it, she said slowly.
Watch. Observe. Things will surface.
She began watching. Rebecca often lingered in Peters office, emerging with a satisfied grin. Evelyn asked Marianne, Do you think Rebecca is too close to the boss?
Marianne shrugged, uneasy. They do meet a lot. I dont know what they discuss. Im scared to speak up; I could lose my job.
Evelyn decided to act. She arrived early, stayed late, eavesdropping, noting details. One afternoon she overheard a snippet through a slightly ajar door.
Rebecca, Im sure youll handle the upcoming audit, Peter said, smiling.
Yes, and the raise we discussed last month? Rebecca replied.
The raise, right. Well revisit it in a month, Peter answered.
Evelyn stepped back. A raise? That meant Rebecca wasnt just a temporary fillin; she was aiming for a permanent promotion.
Back at HR, Evelyn sat at her desk, head in her hands, wondering what to do. Diane called again.
I found out. Rebecca arranged a raise with Peter. Shes planning to stay.
Bloody hell, Evelyn muttered. Now what?
Find something to leverage. A mistake, an error. Anything to press the boss.
She started combing through Rebeccas work. Soon she spotted a small tax miscalculation in a recent return a wrong rate that could attract a penalty if audited.
She printed the sheet and went to Peters office.
Peter, I need to show you something, she said, laying the document on his desk.
He looked up, puzzled. Whats this?
Theres an error in the tax calculation Rebecca submitted. The rate is off, the total is wrong.
Peter stared at the figures, frowning. Youre right. That needs correcting. If the tax office spots it, well be fined.
Exactly, Evelyn replied. I thought you should know.
Peter nodded, Thanks for spotting that. Ill ask Rebecca to fix it.
She waited for a reaction, but he simply said, You may go.
Unsatisfied, she kept digging, finding a handful of minor inaccuracies. She compiled them into a folder and returned.
Peter, here are several mistakes in Rebeccas reports over the past month, she said.
He glanced at the papers, his expression tightening. Evelyn, what are you doing? Spying on a colleague?
Im just doing my job, checking documents. Its part of my responsibilities.
He leaned back, eyes narrowing. Your job is now HR. Perhaps you should focus on that.
Peter, I cant sit by while the companys finances are at risk.
He sighed, The decision has been made. Rebecca stays. You can stay in HR, or you can look elsewhere.
Are you firing me? she asked.
No, Im giving you an alternative. Its clear youre uncomfortable here.
She left his office, heart heavy, and returned to the HR desk, slumping over her hands.
That evening she told me, Im resigning.
I looked up from the TV. What? Why?
Ive been told Im not welcome. Let Rebecca have the job, Ill find another.
I tried to protest, Evelyn, we can fight this
She shook her head, Im done. Ill submit my notice tomorrow.
She wrote the resignation, handed it to Peter, who accepted without comment. She served her twoweek notice; colleagues said goodbye, Marianne even shed a tear.
Evelyn, you were the soul of the accounts team, Marianne said.
Thanks, she replied. Rebecca offered a perfunctory, Good luck, Evelyn.
On her final day, Evelyn walked out of the building, glanced at the old brick façade, and exhaled. Twenty years of work, ambition, and pride lay behind her. Yet a weight lifted from her shoulders.
She got home, placed her box of belongings in a corner, and, after I left for work, sat on the sofa, flipped through job listings on her phone. Plenty of openings for an experienced accountant. Within a week she was called for interviews, then offered a new position at a smaller, forwardthinking firm that valued experience and paid even better.
She started the new role, enjoyed the work, and felt no pressure from overbearing managers. A month later Marianne called, Evelyn, you wont believe it theyve sacked Rebecca! She made a huge error, a client complained, Peter was furious and let her go. Theyre looking for a new accountant.
Evelyn laughed. Well, thats something.
Do you want to go back? Peter asked if he could call you.
No, thank you. Im happy where I am now.
She hung upAnd so Evelyn finally breathed freely, knowing she had reclaimed her life on her own terms.
