Time passes.
Lives change.
New horizons and vast improvements in my working life have made the last few months a happy place to be in. My friends are envious of me and I have a air of confidence about me that is clear to see. I've had some excellent results and have integrated into the existing teams with ease. I discovered just before Christmas that my services are highly rated and a reputation that was once almost in tatters has been rebuilt better than before.
A lot of that is down to the people I work with. Three people in particular have been constant colleagues during my initial five months in the job. We'll call them Julie, Tony and Karen (because they're good names) and you could tell there was a real sense of friendship, camaraderie and cohesion between us. I work in other areas of my new job, but the place to go for a cup of tea, to hang my hat for a minute, or just to get some 'reality' was Julie, Tony and Karen's office. I even kept my herbal teabags in Karen's desk for convenience and safety... And oddly enough it's been the teabags I've had on my mind, but I'll get back to them.
In the lead up to Christmas, the four of us sat in their office and chinwagged - we'd all exchanged Christmas cards (the only ones I sent, apart from to my boss) and talked about our plans. We were all going to the Christmas meal the next day, apart from Karen, who had double-booked and was picking up her father from the station - he was visiting her for Christmas and she seemed really happy about it. She was going off on an extended holiday leave and really regretted not being able to come along.
The Christmas meal was OK. Tony, Julie, me and my boss all sat together - we were tight and during the meal we commented that it was a shame that Karen couldn't have made it along. You know how sometimes when a colleague is missing from a gathering, you occasionally get some snide remarks? Karen never generated those, she was always regarded with immense fondness and respect - we missed her sharing the day with us and it was noted.
Little did we know that that previous day, sitting, having a laugh in their office, would be the last time any of us saw Karen alive again.
The job I now do is potentially dangerous. I work, alongside others, with young offenders and rehabilitated criminals, but on the whole we work with mixed up kids and Karen was brilliant at it. I worked on three specific cases with her and we got to know each other, respect each other and above all like each other, working closely on cases involving young people we cared deeply about the welfare and futures of.
On Thursday morning, something cropped up and I needed to talk to Karen urgently. I rang the office early, but she hadn't come in. The problem was, she hadn't been in since Tuesday, but her diary was full of appointments and it being just post Christmas, I'm betting people in the office had other things on their mind. So, it never crossed anyone's mind that something might have been wrong until I phoned a third time looking for her. This time, fortunately, I managed to contact someone with more common sense in the office and by the time I checked in at 3:00pm, the office manager was on the case.
Today passed without incident. I had little to do, so I did some paperwork, made some phonecalls and worked in the locale. This evening my boss called and asked me if I was sitting down. I said I was, even though I wasn't. Then he told me and I soon found I was sitting down. The little information we have is thin and sketchy, but it seems she was found by colleagues in her flat, there is evidence of foul play (but maybe not, it's difficult to work out the fact from the speculation) and the police are involved and everyone is in a state of shock.
Karen was good. It's tough making friends at this age and its tougher losing them, but sounds like I'm turning this around and I'm not - she's a great loss to everyone that knew her and I'm going to have the very unpleasant job of telling our joint clients that the main reason for their success is no longer with us.
Sleep well, Karen. You're going to have one long big party, mate!
