by Celia Walden
‘But he’s her dad!’
Alex debated telling her that even this was in dispute, the idea of confiding in someone, anyone, after what felt like months of conversations with herself, being more appealing than anything she could think of. But this wasn’t the time.
‘And Al – you two are going to be working in the same office: he can hardly pretend you don’t exist.’
‘I know, I know.’
She was keen to extricate herself now, climb onto the escalator beckoning her upwards beyond the security gates and have the conversation she was here to have. Sensing this, Lydia handed her a visitor’s pass that felt absurd dangling from her neck, and zapped her through.
‘You’ll give me a bell when you’re ready for a few G&Ts, won’t you? Oh – and you’ve got Joyce’s leaving bash in the diary? Week after next?’
Up on the top floor, heads were down, low-level phone conversations were being had, and meetings were taking place in glass boxes. Alex wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this sense of invisibility in a community she’d been such an integral part of just a few months earlier.
She’d walked out of this place on a high: with a gift hamper of organic baby products and a ‘Mum To Be’ helium balloon. And maybe that was it: the pregnancy had made Alex feel remarkable for the first time in her life. UPS men, coffee baristas, clients, even partners like Jill and Paul had noticed her once she started showing, asking when she was due, what she was having and how she was feeling. But Alex was starting to understand that whereas pregnancy made you remarkable, motherhood rendered you invisible. And as she scoured the office floor for any of her office friends and colleagues, she felt a few glances rest briefly and incuriously upon her before moving on.
Sat at her desk – a desk that Alex had always kept free of personal clutter but was now overrun with tubes of cosmetics, miniature cacti, magazines and a small teddy bear wearing a heart-shaped bib with ‘Just For You’ scrawled across it – was Ashley. And Alex was working out how to greet a woman who was her replacement when Katie revved up into a full-scale wail, solving the problem for her.
Within minutes she was surrounded by women, with Joyce – at sixty-five the longest-serving member of staff by decades – jiggling Katie up and down in an attempt to stop the crying.
‘Where’s Jamie?’ Alex managed over the noise.
‘He’s just finishing up a meeting with the Energy and Sustainability team,’ cut in Ashley.
Alex looked over at the main conference room. Her boss’s broad back was just visible through the glass, where he was talking to the company’s special projects supervisor, Nicole. ‘I don’t want to bother him. I can always wait … or come back.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Joyce tutted. ‘He’ll be done in a sec.’
‘I know he can’t wait to meet this one!’ Ashley again, smiling up at Katie from her chair.
Although Alex forced herself to smile back, she couldn’t help noticing how full her cover’s in-tray was. On the desk partition behind it, a photo booth collage had been assembled, every strip a palette swatch of light to dark blondes, every face leaning in towards the camera with a Spice Girl snarl. How had this girl lasted as long as she had? Alex wondered – before immediately feeling guilty at the thought. OK, so Ashley wasn’t exactly vying for employee of the year, but she clearly had no idea her days were numbered, or she wouldn’t have turned her desk into her bedroom. Knowing Jamie, it might even fall to Alex to do the deed …
‘I like the teddy,’ Alex volunteered. ‘Seriously, though, if it’s better for me to come back in a bit … ?’
‘You’re not going anywhere.’ Balancing Katie on one arm like the grandmother of four that she was, Joyce bashed out three numbers on the nearest phone. ‘Jamie, dearest, we have ourselves a visitor. Two, actually.’ A wink. ‘Well, one and a half.’
Whatever Jamie said in response made Joyce laugh in an uncharacteristically girlish way, reminding Alex that Jamie’s appeal was always broader than she imagined. Was it his pretty-boy looks, still there beneath the extra stone he now carried around his jowls and waist? The height from which he inclined his head to hold your gaze that bit too long? The marauding smile that made you feel lucky to be in on the joke with him. Alex wasn’t sure. But she’d seen everyone from Botoxed businesswomen to chippy millennials get giggly after a few minutes with Jamie.
For her, at least, her boss’s appeal had always been clear: Jamie saw you. Which sounded stupid, but over the years Alex had worked for men and women who managed to spend eight hours a day looking over and to either side of her. And from the moment Jamie had beckoned Alex into his office for an interview just over a year ago, she’d felt more substantial: a real person with opinions and stories worth listening to.
‘Al!’ Here he was now, slow-motion jogging across the floor towards her. Out of the corner of her eye Alex saw women’s bodies straighten and fingers comb through hair. ‘Look at you. And look at you!’
Peering down at Katie, still in Joyce’s arms, Jamie pulled a goofy face.
‘Want a cuddle?’
‘Thought you’d never ask.’
‘Not me, silly – Katie!’ Alex laughed, and it felt good to have slipped back into their old banter.
Jamie held up his hands, regretful.
‘Best not – been shaking hands with developers all morning. And we know what a grubby bunch that lot are. There isn’t enough hand sanitiser in the world. But Al, she’s so tiny! How much did she weigh? Elsa’s a great big lump.’
‘Five pounds, seven ounces – so yeah, on the small side. Elsa looks such a sweetie, Jamie. So blonde! Congrats.’
They nodded at one another, both conscious that baby talk could only be extended so long – and that this wasn’t the real reason Alex was here.
‘How’s Maya getting on?’
‘Great, great … you know. It’s easier second time around.’
Joyce had somehow managed to stem Katie’s tears, and as all three gazed down at her gurgling daughter Alex felt the knot of tension in her stomach relax for the first time that day.
‘She really is gorgeous, Al. Nicely done.’
Glancing down at the pale circle of skin on his right wrist where his watch had once been – a TAG Heuer anniversary present from his wife that had caused them both a few sleepless nights when he lost it – Jamie motioned towards his office with his chin. ‘Want to pop in here for a quick chat?’
‘Sure.’
Alex was struggling not to smile. The whole thing was so transparent. They could have had this conversation on the phone, without poor Ashley peering in at them from her desk and fearing the worst. But she couldn’t lie: the idea of Jamie feeling nervous about their meeting, maybe even rehearsing the speech that might entice her back – that part Alex was enjoying. With a mouthed ‘thank you’ she took Katie back in her arms.
But Jamie wasn’t moving. ‘Do you want to –’ he scratched at the back of his head, eyes on Katie ‘– maybe leave her with Joyce?’
‘Don’t worry.’
‘Really? Might be easier if …’
‘Jamie!’ Alex laughed, starting towards his office. ‘Relax, she’ll be fine.’
The last time she’d sat in here, on the anthracite Roche Bobois sofa that was her boss’s pride and joy, Alex had been feeling a different kind of nervy. Worried about breaking the news of her pregnancy to Jamie and pleased for the first time in her life to have the extra weight to hide behind, she’d left it later than she should have to tell him. But on a quiet Wednesday afternoon at just over five months gone, Alex had blurted it out as he was dictating a portfolio report. It had been an accident, she’d stammered, conscious as she did so both that this was too much information and that it wasn’t entirely true. And even though she hadn’t planned to end up a single mum at twenty-nine, Alex had assured Jamie, she was planning to get good childcare sorted early on and be back at work as soon as possible. Her only mistake had been assuming that Jamie already knew, fr
om either Hayden or the office grapevine, the identity of the father.
‘Hayden?’ A flash of something between amused incredulity and annoyance. ‘Our Hayden?’
It had come across as ‘my mate Hayden’. ‘Sorry. I thought you knew.’
Jamie’s smile was tight. ‘Because?’
‘Well, I know you two are … close.’ Picking at the varnish on her thumbnail, Alex had pushed on. ‘And people, I mean – well they seem to know about us. Although I did try and—’
‘Great.’ Jamie had sat back hard in his chair. ‘Well in answer to your question: no, I didn’t know.’
Alex had been taken aback by her boss’s reaction before remembering how much he hated being kept out of the loop on anything BWL-related.
‘When I say “people”, I don’t mean it’s—’
‘Honestly, I’m just surprised you waited this long to tell me.’ He’d cut her off. ‘You say you’re five months?’
As his eyes had dropped down to her belly, Alex stifled the shades of shame she felt, as though they’d been zapped back a century and she were some loose woman bringing them all into disrepute.
‘Yes. A little over.’
‘And Hayden – how does he feel about this?’
‘We’re not actually … together.’
Alex was aware that men didn’t tend to discuss their personal lives in the forensic way women did but couldn’t help feeling a little stung that Hayden hadn’t even mentioned their relationship – or its demise – in passing. ‘But listen, if you’re worried about any weirdness in the office, please don’t be. We’re both grown-ups, and it won’t affect my work in any way moving forward, Jamie. I can promise you that. I love this job,’ she’d ended, breathless at this point. ‘And I hope you know that I’ll always go above and beyond for you.’
After a slight pause, Jamie had been quick to reassure her that he did (‘everyone knows you’re a machine, Al – and you know I’d be lost without you’). He’d seemed surprised but relieved too that she had her return date already worked out, and grateful when the handover came that Alex had been as thorough as she had. And yet despite the comprehensive file she’d put together and the full afternoon she’d insisted on spending with Ashley, she had left unconvinced her cover was anywhere near as adept at the software BWL relied upon as she should be. Which seemed as good a place as any to start their conversation today: Jamie looked like he needed a little prompting.
‘Listen, I meant it when I said that I was around to help with anything Ashley didn’t quite get, Jamie. I know she was struggling a bit with the intranet.’
‘Alex,’ Jamie cut in, passing a hand over his forehead. ‘The problem isn’t Ashley. The problem’s you.’
Hoisting Katie to her shoulder, Alex began to rub her daughter’s back. There had been no signs of gassiness, but Alex was aware of a pressing need to do something with her hands – pretend, at least, that all peripheral sight and hearing hadn’t been blocked out, with only the words Jamie’s lips were forming in her tunnel line of vision. And a memory chimed somewhere deep within her. Bad news, life-changing news, delivered oh so matter-of-factly by a man: you always guessed it a millisecond before – just as she guessed it now.
‘Alex, we’re going to have to let you go.’
CHAPTER 3
JILL
‘What do you mean they went in an hour ago?’
‘Mr Ho got here early,’ Joyce explained. ‘Jamie thought rather than make him wait, they’d get going.’
‘Right.’
It wasn’t uncommon for Jill’s PA to have a whole conversation without once taking her eyes off her screen, but something in the tightness of her boss’s tone made Joyce glance up.
‘Sorry. I tried to call you, but your phone was off.’
‘I was at the hospital.’
‘I know. And I told Jamie you’d probably rather he waited – but when I couldn’t get hold of you …’
‘Of course.’ Jill fingered a surveyor’s report on Joyce’s desk. ‘I did remind Jamie’s temp yesterday that I wouldn’t be in until just before the meeting.’
‘Hmm.’
‘What’s her name again?’
‘Ashley? She’s just been made permanent. You know – with Alex gone.’
A burst of laughter from inside the conference room, where Jamie was gesticulating in front of the scale model of the Lots Road Hotel Jill had spent the past fortnight working on with their model maker in preparation for today’s meeting.
It wasn’t easy to get a smile out of those Malaysian businessmen. In all the years Mr Ho had been her client, Jill could only remember a couple of real ‘eyes and teeth’ moments when a long, drawn-out deal had finally been rubber-stamped. But whatever Jamie was joking about now had Ho and his colleagues all lit up, nudging and repeating the punchline to one another. Even Paul – sitting back as he watched his charismatic partner do what he did best – was laughing, somehow still enjoying a show he must have sat through a thousand times.
That was the thing about Jamie: he was a performer. Alongside his rare ability to connect with anyone from any social class or walk of life, this was the reason she and Stan had brought him in as a cocky thirty-something looking to move from corporate property to something ‘meatier’: his word – and one with predatory undertones she’d been worried by at first. But the projects of architectural significance she and Stan had set the company up to protect were dense with history and culture – so yes, something to sink one’s teeth into. And when her husband had decided to retire, they’d both known that there was only one man capable of filling his shoes.
‘Listen, I might catch the end of it. Mr Ho will be wondering why I’m not there.’
It was as though she were asking her PA’s permission. And Joyce, back to her typing, just nodded, leaving Jill to wonder at the tentative quality of her statement – and the fact that she still wasn’t making any kind of move in the direction of the conference room.
In the three years Jamie’s name had sat alongside hers and Paul’s on marble walls and stationery, software and presentation screens, they’d never had cause to regret their decision, she thought, eyes back on the protégé who had long outgrown any need for his mentor. Oh to have that energy! Jill had always been confident, vibrant even when she needed to turn that side of herself on for a boardroom full of people, without once suffering from the ‘impostor syndrome’ so many women whined about. But Jamie’s capacity to buoy up clients into making ambitious, expensive and sometimes reckless decisions – she’d never had that. Not in her twenties or thirties and certainly not now, when what little life force she’d managed to claw back post-menopause had plummeted after Stan’s diagnosis. And if anybody in that room had been expecting her, she was forced to concede, they weren’t any longer.
Never mind that she was the one who had persuaded the Malaysian conglomerate to sell the power station in the first place. Or that it was thanks to her that Mr Ho had sold his Chelsea barracks for a little less than twice the asking price five years ago. Now that she’d lined it all up, maybe it was natural, right, that Jamie should be doing what he did best and whetting her client’s taste buds with a smorgasbord of prospective buyers.
‘Jill?’
‘Yes?’
‘Can I take your … ?’
Following Joyce’s eyeline, Jill realised that she was still in her summer trench coat, handbag hanging from an inner elbow. In a series of brisk movements, she shrugged both off and handed them to her PA.
‘Thanks.’
But now that she’d decided it might be better to miss the meeting than go into that conference room and be forced to play catch-up, she resented that decision. ‘Better’ really meant ‘less humiliating’, and the impotence she felt looking in at those men in their glass box from the outside was horribly familiar. It brought back memories of identical scenes decades earlier, when – in cheaper suits and with naturally blonde hair – she’d regularly been made to feel insignificant: surplus to
requirements.
‘Joyce?’
‘Hmm?’
‘What did happen with Jamie’s PA? He didn’t go into it.’
‘Alex? I didn’t even know you could do that: sack someone on maternity leave. I get that what she did was wrong—’
‘Because … ?’
‘Sorry.’ Her PA bashed out one last sentence, pressed ‘return’ and turned towards her. ‘So yes, apparently she’d got Jamie to sign off on a due diligence file without all the documentation in place. Key things like the solicitor’s confirmation on money laundering checks were missing. Which would be unthinkable at the best of times – but when your buyer is some Georgian developer we’ve never done business with before …’
‘That Khalvashi man,’ Jill murmured.
‘It could have blown up big time if Paul hadn’t clocked it.’
Jill had her post in her hand and could have been in her office opening it and starting on her morning calls, but she felt a curious inability to do either.
‘What’s weird is that Alex was great. Way more efficient than the previous one.’ Joyce frowned back down at her screen. ‘Maybe it was “pregnancy brain”, as Jamie said.’
‘He shouldn’t be saying stuff like that. And is it even really a thing? I’m not best placed to say.’
‘You can get a bit foggy,’ her PA chuckled. ‘But the way men go on about it, you’d think we all get lobotomised the moment we conceive.’ She paused, frowning. ‘I was a bit surprised. He’ll be hard pushed to find someone as meticulous as Alex. She’d drive all the Addison Lee drivers bonkers, asking them to call her as soon as Jamie was “on board” so that she could text whoever was expecting his arrival-time updates – as though he were the PM or something.’
‘Bet he loved that.’
Papers were being gathered in the conference room and files closed, indicating a near end to the meeting. The Malaysians were standing now and dipping down into their little bows. ‘She never really crossed my radar – except that whole business with Hayden. That went around the office, didn’t it?’ Jill dropped her voice. ‘I’ve got to say: I know I’m a geriatric – but casually getting pregnant by a co-worker?’