The sun beat down hard onto the black slate of Martin Place. Workers in black suits scurried across the arid landscape – to the air conditioned oasis of offices and food-halls.
It was only 9:30 am and already the temperature was creeping over 30 degrees, that’s pretty hot, I thought to myself.
I had been at my desk on the 48th floor of the MLC building for 42 minutes and my back was still sweaty from the dash to my office. The air-conditioning had cooled my damp shirt and an icy chill ran down my spine when it touched my skin.
I was contemplating another coffee.
The weekend had left me with a confused headache of pain and frustration. My first coffee had given me a satisfying buzz, but it was slowing down and now it seemed to be mingling with the pounding in my head to spin the pain deeper and faster.
Reading emails was taking my mind of it. Focussing on the screen meant that, at the very least, I wouldn’t have to deal with my co-workers, at least until I regained some composure. Then the phone rang.
I looked at it in muted surprise/fear/confusion. It kept ringing as a debate raged in my fragile mind. ‘I’m gonna have to answer that – I could pretend not to be here – everybody knows i’m here – i’m gonna have to answer that – I don’t HAVE to do it – what if it’s important – that’s even more reason not to answer it – shit – it’s probably just Sam.’ It kept ringing…. I grabbed the receiver.
“Hello (cough) Jonathon speaking.” I said.
“Ah good morning Jonathon this is Henry over at Industry. I’m looking over the policy wording you sent through last week. I just have a few concerns about our recommendations having not been included?”
My mind reeled. Was this Henry from IDC or the Industry ministers office? shit. What policy did he mean? My head screamed in agony at being put through such strenuous paces.
“Yeah… um… not a problem Henry, I just got into the office and i’m trying to sort out my inbox. Was that the final budget proposals or… the uhh… Northern Infrastructure plans?” I stammered.
“Northern Infrastructure? I don’t know what you’re talking about Jonathon. We spoke last week in the estimates meeting and you assured us you’d get the amended version of the policy papers to us first thing today? You do know what i’m talking about don’t you? The final budget proposals are due in at midday today.”
All the blood drained from my face, my stomach turned inside-out and a strange rush of adrenaline and fear flooded through my body. My mouth was dry. I was aware that my mind should have been shuffling through responses and juggling consequences, I needed to salvage this situation and I only had a split second in which to do it. Instead my mind was blank, no words came. The silence screamed down the phone line.
“Yeah yeah it’s not a problem. I’m just waiting on Charlotte to get back to me with the Ministers decision.” My choked response came out in a higher pitch than normal.
Look Jonathon I don’t know what you’re all playing at over there but I spoke to Charlotte this morning and she assured me you had sent us the signed-off proposal. Now we need to get that in the next hour, or the Minister will look quite the fool.” Henry said curtly before hanging up.
My forehead was propped up on my left arm which was leaning on the desk. I had the receiver held to my ear with my right arm. I sat there in stunned silence. The need to act, and act fast was apparent, but instead I remained frozen in shock. The memories all flooded back. The estimates committee, my Minister assuring everybody their amendments would be included and my eyeing off the petite blonde in an impossibly tight skirt -suit. I grabbed my diary, flicked back to last week; there it was – shit. My note to finalise the budget request with IDC by first thing Monday. It was right next to Natalie’s phone number and a red love heart – shit.
To be continued…
