Story a Day Sixteen – Margison

You walk into a room and, as usual, everything stops. It’s been a pattern for a while now and you have begun to wonder if it’s you, or them.

Of course you blame yourself, that’s simply your style, but eventually, they will realise that it’s actually them – all of them – and they are going to have to lump it, for you are staying.

Your attitude has been exemplary, as it always is and they cannot fault you on that, for it’s a rule you have. Or rather, not a rule, but simply a way of being. To be direct and honest; fair and challenging and you know, that eventually, one of them will crack.

‘Never let go’, is your mantra. Within you is the absolute knowledge that you are right. Your way is the only way and they will come round to see it, as they have before.

For this is not the first time you have been here. Oh, no!

This is, as the big boys know, who you are and so, when they need you, you that call.

“Margison, get down to Plymouth,” they say. Or Aberdeen, or Preston. Of Kuwait City, or Pretoria. Anywhere they speak mostly English, they call on you.

Their ‘go to’ guy. What a label!

But, above all, they know you and how you will be on the day and days that follow. You have a track record, you see.

Although your name and reputation goes before you, most people you’ve come across wouldn’t slight you, after the event. In fact, quite the opposite.

You get on their Christmas card list. You go to their weddings. You get invited to barbecues, back at their place, just like the good old boy you are.

But not in the beginning. Too start with, there’s no ‘Good old chap’ about the relationships. Not at the beginning. They are stand-offish and silent, giving you the big freeze. You are the elephant in their room, although you will also be their edgy focus during that time.

You’ve considered this, of course, many a time. It’s a dance, you’ve decided. Like the dance of a female preying mantis, who seeks to eat her partner, just as soon as he’s impregnated her.

You go there, fix the issues and after a time, you but out and move on, leaving them behind to remember you.

The irony of all the fuss is that they are so often better, much better after you’ve finished with them. They thank you.

But now it’s changing, as you know. You’re getting older, wearier and, well, you realise, wiser. So there are some choices you are making. Some considerations to make.

“Jenny, I need you. I need your help with some issues I’m facing.” You made that call while I was standing outside your office.

In some ways, it makes you all the more endearing, for there is something attractive about a little weakness in a person. Whoever Jenny is, it’s your call. Just take care that the decision is yours; you owe that to yourself.

You started to say other things to people, and they are wondering about you.

“You walked into the party
Like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically placed above one eye
Your scarf, it was apricot…”

Remember that? Remember the time we talked till dawn and hummed that all night, on and off?

Then you took off for all your intercontinental workload and we saw you so little. Yet we heard all the reports.

So, with Jenny, or whoever, make your decisions and ultimately, all you need to be sure of is that you are loved by us all, however much you think differently and whatever you think you did to us.

Now is your time, Margison.

Go do what you have to do.