Everyday Heroes - Oticon

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so obvious that a total stranger like Juliette had spotted it almost immediately, and that she was so sure of herself that she had not hesitated to ask whether the problem was due to his hearing. And if she had come to that conclusion, what must Mr Didier and the others have thought? Mr Singh cursed himself for letting the meeting turn out the way it did. He had been sitting there, digging his own grave. They must have thought that he had taken leave of his senses. He should have told them he was happy where he was and that he wanted to see all the projects he had set motion through to their conclusion. But he knew it was pointless. You either continued in the company or kept going until you hit the pavement. He had seen others go the same way. Paul had been with the company for 30 years, yet his offi ce was now being refurbished for someone else. How could he look any of his colleagues in the eye after today? Mr Singh arrived home to fi nd Eve curled up in the green easy chair under the reading lamp, correcting essays with a red ball pen. He fl opped into the sofa and switched on the TV. At fi rst he resisted the temptation to increase up the volume but after a while, as the debate between the politicians became more intense, he did turn it up slightly. He automatically looked in Eve’s direction to check whether the volume was too high. And the irritated glance she shot him told him that it was. So he turned off the TV and went down to his hobby room in the cellar. Lately he had been completing quite a few projects – almost too many. Apart from the wine rack the few projects remaining would not take more than a Saturday morning to complete. Previously, any time spent in the cellar would have been viewed as a rare treat, something he did on a Saturday morning while Eve slept in. And he had enjoyed those hours of solitude. But now his hobby room had turned into a hiding place – a doghouse he felt forced to inhabit. He and Eve no longer fought, as they had begun doing for a period. Things were in a far worse state than that: Eve had stopped talking altogether. About his ears and the fact that he ought to get them checked, and about every other subject. He suddenly felt anxious – as though he were on the brink of losing her. The following Friday, Mr Didier walked into his offi ce. He smiled and closed the door behind him. Mr Singh had not seen him since the interview and had not expected to see him now. He could feel 9
his palms beginning to sweat. Judgement was about to be pronounced in a much more personal way than anticipated. Mr Didier perched on the edge of the chair opposite. ‘We agreed to give Michael the opportunity this time,’ he said. ‘But things can always change, as you well know.’ The room was so packed that it was diffi cult to get the door open. Mr Singh was surprised at how popular Michael had suddenly become, and at how many people were trying to worm their way into his good books. Mr Singh had forced himself to attend, not because Mr Didier had invited him personally during his visit earlier in the day, but because he wanted to avoid losing face yet again. He strolled over to the refreshments table to collect a glass of red wine. He could hear the murmuring of voices and music. As he ventured further into the room he bumped into a colleague who was in the process of saying something. The person next to him began to laugh. Presuming that they were sharing a joke, Mr Singh joined in. He was still laughing when he noticed that the others had stopped; they now seemed to be discussing something serious. He straightened his tie and glanced around cautiously. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed. When he arrived home, Eve had changed outfi ts. She was wearing the green dress they had purchased on their trip to Paris. He could smell her perfume as she moved back and forth, fi nishing things up. He had refused the dinner invitation, asking Eve to tell them that he was unable to attend due to pressure of work. Now he suddenly regretted that decision, even though he knew that if he did accompany her, he would regret that too. He would just sit there trying to guess what the others were talking about, frightened that he might lose the thread and be unable to keep up. He would feel like a fool – a feeling that had become all too familiar of late. Standing at the window, watching her car disappear around the corner, he felt a faint pang of jealousy. It simply could not be right that life was just passing him by like this. That positions that should have been his, went to others. That he couldn’t talk to his own wife. And that he was almost avoiding his friends altogether. It was one o’clock in the morning and there was still no sign of Eve. Mr Singh had done nothing but sit in the sofa trying to fi nd out what to do next. He felt lonely and insecure. Could he really be going deaf? Did he need hearing aids? And if so, how would his col- 10
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Everyday Heroes - Oticon

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