A chill went down my spine as screams and sobs filled the main office.
I knew the sound of that glass breaking would haunt all of us in the room for the rest of our lives, like the shards pricking at our insides over and over.
We were on the eighth floor of the building. Several people peered out of broken window to look down. Some stayed there, others recoiled in horror.
As though guided by an invisible rope, I glided towards the window. I was shaking, but unafraid. My morbid curiosity always got the better of me. My high-heels crunched the broken glass as I reached the window.
I stared ahead at the vast, cloudless sky. Then I looked down and saw her.
Korina, clad in her black jacket and pencil skirt, lay twisted on the ground, blood poolingaround her head, and, even from this height, I could see a bone sticking out of her ankle.
Beads of sweat accumulated on my temple and neck. I collapsed on to a nearby chair and wiped my forehead. I suddenly felt dehydrated and cold at the same time.
Through the rest of the day I watched almost everyone at the office go through some sort of meltdown. New sides to people I had worked with for so long emerged. It wasuncomfortable and frightening. The most vulnerable, inner parts of people were on display. The tough guys cried, the women were blubbering messes and the bosses were completely at odds at what to do with everyone. I heard my boss say in a shaken voice to the police that she had planned to get safety glass installed in all of the floors.
I tried to make myself usefulby getting people coats and hot drinks for the shock, hugging other co-workers to give them a little comfort and providing the police with as much information as I could.
To work hard had always been my motto. Always being occupied was essential. So whenClairetold me to go home with everyone else in our office, I was taken aback. This was not like her to send me home. She had always revered my willingness to work overtime. But now,at only one in the afternoon,she was insistent that I take the rest of the day off.
Throughout the drive home, the questions in my head doubled, tripled and quadrupled. The main one that kept me up half the night was:
Why would Korina choose such a public and violent death, when things seemed be going so well in her life?
A week later I arrived late and a little flustered at Cafe Bizarre. I could already see my group settled with their drinks at the square table.
Ashley Kent, who appeared too shell-shocked to sip at her gin and tonic, and Steve Prempton, a man I found irresistibly hot.
I brushed away my cat’s hairs from my coat and sat next to Steve. My face flushed as his fingers accidentally brushed over my tights.
“She was so young,” said Ashley, dabbing her running nose with her napkin. “I can’t even imagine what her parents must be going through.”
I hesitated for a moment and, plucking up my courage, opened my dry mouth and said: “I wish I could have known her better. She always seemed like a lovely woman. I mean….”
I struggled a bit. “Why would she do this? Did you guys know if she had problems at home? Was it something to do with work?”
“How could it be work?” said Ashley, suddenly irritated. “In any case, we shouldn’t go inquiring about her personal life. People do have a right to privacy.”
I glowered at her, aghast.
“Ashley, Korina is dead!” I found myself shaking. “She threw herself out of OUR office window. There has to be a reason for this and we should know why.”
“I don’t want to know!” she said, bringing her tissue to her nose again.
“Well she wouldn’t do this unless she was pushed to the edge!”
“How do you know? You just said it yourself, you barely knew her.”
My hands balled into fists.She didn’t know Korina either.
Swallowing my anger, I asked as calmly as possible: “Do you know why she did it?”
“I do.”
My heart leaped in my mouth as Steve, who was sweating profusely, spoke the first words since I’d sat down. He swallowed, and said:
“Korina and I, well…”
An affair? Shock and indignation flushed my whole body. They were having an affair.
All eyes were on him now. He looked down, licking his lips.
With each second he hesitated, my fury increased. When he started to fiddle with his credit card, I exploded.
“Well WHAT?”
“It had been a few months back.” he said. “When we first started going out, she was normal. She seemed happy. Then after a few weeks, she, er. She started… acting strangely.”
I held my breath for a few seconds. A couple sat a few feet from us clinked their glasses.
“She was always crying. She drank a lot. Whenever an animal appeared on the screen of my television, she had to leave the room.I asked her what was wrong, but she said she didn’t want to talk about it. But she finally came clean and told me her dog had died. That’s why she never brought me to her apartment again. The pain was too much. Then, um, two weeks ago she asked Claire for some time off for mental exhaustion. But of course, it was thestart of the conference. There was just no way.”
I thought back on the lecture on the conference Claire had given us three months before. She strictly forbadeany of us to plan a vacation during this time. Even interns had to be taken in to help us out.
My breathing increased as Steve continued.
“A few days later, she was drinking, heavily. I tried to talk to her, reason with her, and get her to contact her parents. But she kept shutting me out. Her heart was broken. It was almost like I wasn’t there.”
He paused. My heart drilled in my chest. My palms felt clammy. I’d had so many fantasies of how he would be as a partner to me. Now I felt deeply uncomfortable sitting alongside him.
“So you broke up with her.” I said.
“I thought I was doing the right thing. I even gave her a ring as a goodbye gift.”
He stopped, unable to continue. He placed his hand over his mouth, his face pale.
Ashley screeched her chair backwards and made a boltfor the bathroom.
He and I were both alone. The chatteraround us sounded like a distant noise.
I tried to remember how Korina had been that day. Jittery, for sure. But she had been like that for a month. Her composure was refined, her conversations with everyone else were short and to the point. And she had never really one for banter.
As I pictured her walking among the cubicles, I remembered one small detail I had overlooked that day. She had kept looking out of that window and trailing her knuckle across the glass in a circle. She was still keeping busy with her computer and paperwork. But she kept returning to the window, rotating her index finger at the center of it, as though wiping off a stain.
No one else paid attention to her. I certainly didn’t think anything of it.
But now it fell into place.
The ring, Steve’s little “parting gift”, and the office, where her boss forced her to work hard despite her mental state: she was making a point. They were the two things that exacerbated the agonizing grief for her dog – a gorgeous little Cairn terrier, who, according to Korina, “loved everyone”.
I glared at Steve. He started to play with his credit card again.
I pictured him with her, unable to cope with her tears and drinking, abandoning her in her most desperate hour, leaving behind only an expensive ring for comfort.
Everyone had deserted her; her pride and joy, the sympathy of her boss and the man she was going out with.
No person should ever have to cope with so much loss.
Tears prickling my eyes, I grabbed my bag and ran out of the bar.
Once I was alone in my car, the floodgates opened. For Korina, her family, wherever they were, and even for her beloved Cairn.
I entered my apartment with Izzy mewing at my arrival. More tears fell down as I ripped up his food pouch and dipped the saucy meat into his bowl.
I slipped off my high-heeled shoes, sat on the sofa and turned on the game shows.
After watching the usual quiz for fifteen minutes, I felt a chill up my arms and saw that I had left the window open.
Izzy came back into the room, licking his jaws as I got up and walked towards the window.
The breeze was mild and the night was calm and silent.I breathed in the fresh air.
Korinahad not been silent. She’d spoken up about her problems. But no one listened to her.
I closed the window and turned back to Izzy, who stared at me in a puzzling sort of way.
I nestled back onto the couch and Izzy curled up next to me.
“Don’t worry,” I said, stroking my cat’s head as he squinted. “Korina won’t be forgotten. This time tomorrow, everyone will know the truth.”
