Stay Mad, Sweetheart

by Heleen Kist

The computer broke free from its surrounding papers and magazines with a single yank. She watched the disturbed pile wobble and slip to the ground in a colourful spread. Emily cleared more space on the table, flicking crumbs of who-knows-what into the void with the back of her hand.

  There.

  She sat down. The laptop whirred into action, the screen’s static attracting a plague of dust. She clutched her sleeve and rubbed it away.

  A thump by her door.

  She listened for more, the back of her neck tingling. She hoped, of the two things it might be, that it was her neighbour coming to check on her again. But no knock came. Her stomach dropped.

  Shit.

  She shook her head. Ignore it.

  The waterfall background on her screen was meant to be a serene, calming image but all Emily sensed when she looked at it was the thunderous pressure of the water on her head, its silvery foam enveloping her, the absence of air — drowning.

  With a slight tremble in her finger, she inched the mouse towards her email. At the top of her inbox was Claire’s red-flagged message: Help! Questions for Empisoft conference.

  Emily breathed a wisp of relief when she saw that the fifty-odd other messages were business-related and all from people she knew, including one from HR she’d check out later. She mentally blew a kiss to the IT chap who’d assured her he would filter out all the hate mail, so she wouldn’t be confronted with it.

  Her brain wouldn’t focus. She re-read the same piece of text five times. The planning around the annual conference of the city’s most celebrated high-growth start-up was a challenge, sure, but she knew that wasn’t the real problem. It was the thought of returning to work, to the stares, the whispers. They’d had to get extra security at the office when she’d been identified as the anonymous woman behind the incendiary blog post; a daily hassle no one appreciated.

  For the best part of two hours, she resolved logistical issues with the catering and stupidly constrained parking around the large conference venue. No reason Claire couldn’t have handled those herself.

  Emily’s cramped thighs begged for movement. She got up for another cup of tea, leaving the previous one cold, iridescent plaques lining the surface like an oil slick.

  As she passed the front door, she remembered the earlier sound. Despite alarm ringing in her ears, she pulled at the knob.

  On the landing lay a medium-sized box, addressed simply to The Bitch. Emily peered over into the stairwell of her tenement, knowing it was pointless. Whoever had finagled access to her building would be long gone.

  The box didn’t weigh much, but its content sounded solid when shifted. She carried it inside, her pulse throbbing in her temples, her teeth clenched.

  She walked straight to the kitchen, flipped open the stainless-steel lid of her bin, and shook the ‘gift’ out of the box. The large purple dildo fell atop layers of gloopy plastic film pried from ready meals. Underneath, she could still see the fat, curved tip of the other veiny, flesh-coloured sex toy.

  Emily smacked the metal lid down and crumpled onto the tiled floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks, her body convulsing with each staggered sob.

  She couldn’t do this anymore.

  3

  ME

  ‘Ah, there you are, Laura,’ Justin said as soon as I pushed through the unnecessarily heavy floor-to-ceiling door. ‘Now we can begin.’

  He pressed a button by the light switch. The glass partition that separated the boardroom from the adjacent corridor frosted over for privacy — one of many high-tech features in the room.

  The transition seemed to impress the older man in the suit. We didn’t get many suits as visitors, and this one looked expensive. Who was he? The young woman sitting opposite smiled at me broadly, although her white-bloused outfit suggested she meant business, too.

  A tray with a pot of coffee stood untouched on the sideboard. Justin signalled for me to sit while he stayed standing. ‘Laura, this is Angus McLeod, managing partner of Madainn Finance, and his senior associate, Suki... erm, sorry...’

  ‘Ak-sorn-pan,’ she offered, enunciating the syllables as if for a child.

  ‘Yes, right.’ A barely perceptible frown crossed Justin’s brow. I’d known him long enough to recognise his ‘I’m insulted’ face. He continued, ‘This is the incredible Laura Flett I’ve told you so much about. Laura, Suki and Angus here are the corporate financiers who’ve been working with me and the board these past few months on the sale of the business.’

  ‘Ah.’ The suits made sense.

  ‘Now we’re getting close to a deal with PeopleForce, it’s critical to involve you as co-founder and head of Research & Development.’ Justin bowed to the guests and sat. ‘Over to you.’

  Angus smoothed what little grey hair he still had on the side of his skull and cleared his throat. Suki slid grey-covered presentation decks across the table with manicured fingernails.

  I peeked inside my copy and found a fat stack of PowerPoint slides, beautifully styled in corporate blues. The thick paper between my fingers screamed money.

  Angus spoke first. ‘If everything goes according to plan, we’re looking at one of the most exciting things to happen to the Scottish technology scene since Skyscanner was acquired by the Chinese.’

  I glanced at Suki, wondering if that’s where she was from.

  Angus prattled on, ‘That woke Silicon Valley up to the potential of Scotland — and Edinburgh in particular — as a breeding ground for tomorrow’s unicorns.’

  That word sent a ripple across the room. Unicorn: a company valued at one billion dollars. Every technology entrepreneur’s dream. Justin’s dream.

  ‘Of course, Empisoft isn’t there yet,’ continued Angus. ‘However, I’m sure you’ll agree the offers we received are worth celebrating, particularly for a start-up only three years old.’

  Suki opened her folder on cue. I looked over at Justin, who could hardly contain his glee as he flipped over the title page.

  ‘On page one,’ Suki said with a mild, local accent, ‘we’ve set out a reminder of the bids that came in. Of the eight different parties we approached to buy the company, five made an offer — which is exceptional. PeopleForce was by far and away the most interested in acquiring you, which is reflected in their offer.’

  The digits on the page confounded me for the first time in my life. I’d heard the numbers from Justin before, but seeing that many zeroes brought it home: I was going to be rich. Me, the distinctly average girl from Peebles. What the hell would I do with all that cash?

  Angus leaned forward. ‘I’d even go so far as to say they’ve been pestering us to move as quickly as we can throughout this whole process.’

  ‘I don’t want to lose this,’ said Justin. ‘We should hurry. I need us to pull out all the stops to be able to announce the deal at our conference. That’s the biggest opportunity to make a splash.’

  ‘It’s all in hand, Justin,’ said Suki. ‘It will be tight timing-wise, but that’s why we’re here to discuss next steps. I’m confident the deal will go ahead. PeopleForce are unlikely to back away. By acquiring you, they stay ahead of competition and quash the rumours they’ve run out of ideas. Your technology is extremely valuable to them, a perfect complement to the market-leading suite of Human Resource applications they sell to big companies worldwide. With your innovation, their clients will be able to monitor their internal communications to determine employee satisfaction automatically, without the need for questionnaires or appraisals. It’s gold dust. And your latest sick-leave upgrade is transformational.’

  Angus nodded along blankly, and I wasn’t sure he understood Suki’s description of our technology. A few seconds later, my instinct was confirmed when he asked, ‘What’s the sick-leave upgrade again?’

  I took pity and kept it simple. ‘Our software scans the words and phrases people use in their emails and other written interactions at work. Our models determine if employees are happy or harassed, feeling motivated or frustrated, empowered, loyal, and
so on. Recently we’ve taken it one step further. Building on the latest medical research, we’re able to give warning indicators when an employee might be at the early stages of depression, which can lead to long-term absences. Basically, employers can now offer people help before they even know they need it.’

  ‘That one still blows my mind.’ Suki gestured an explosion escaping from her head that made us laugh. She nodded at me. I wondered if it was to acknowledge I’d built this or as a thank you for keeping Angus enlightened.

  Justin rubbed his hands. ‘So now what?’

  Angus leaned back in the leather chair, ‘Suki will pull together a data room for PeopleForce to do their due diligence. That means we need to put a mountain of documents in a central location for them to review so that their acquisition team can verify what we’ve told them about your company is all true. This process can take weeks or months, depending on how well we put the information together and how many questions they have. Therefore, it’s important we put our best foot forward.’

  ‘Could their offer still change?’ Justin asked.

  ‘Aye, it’s possible,’ he said gravely. ‘If they find inconsistencies, they might reduce the valuation. However, we’ve been fully transparent from the start, and Suki thinks we may even have underestimated the value of your new projects in R&D.’

  Suki flashed her wide smile again. ‘That’s because we didn’t have much information on what else you’ve been developing, Laura. Hence, why we need you.’

  ‘Ah yes, our secretive Laura,’ teased Justin.

  I squirmed.

  Angus looked at his watch. ‘Smashing. PeopleForce’s man in San Francisco has a team in place ready for when we are. You two girls make friends and huddle together until it’s all set up.’

  Suki rolled her eyes to me.

  Justin patted the table. ‘They’re women, Angus. Not girls. They are tremendously competent women, in fact.’ A stunned silence filled the room. He winked at Suki. ‘If anything, I’m the one who’s just the pretty face around here.’

  Angus laughed a little too loudly and pushed his chair back.

  We all stood. Angus approached Justin with his hand outstretched. ‘My man, I’ll bid you farewell for now. Get ready. Soon you’ll be joining the millionaire’s club.’ Justin’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he returned the handshake. Angus gave a little wave all round and left.

  Justin asked. ‘Suki, may I have a moment with Laura please?’

  She collected Angus’s papers and stuck them under her arm. ‘Sure thing. I’ll wait outside.’

  ‘So. Here we are, partner,’ said Justin after Suki disappeared.

  ‘Here we are.’ I shook my head. ‘It’s incredible.’

  ‘It’s what we’ve worked for.’ He ran his fingers through his wavy, auburn hair. ‘How are you feeling?’

  I wasn’t sure how I felt. To me, it had never been about the money. I created the software because I loved words; had loved words ever since the hungry caterpillar chomped its way through a week’s worth of food and burst out transformed; since the adventurous family had braved the dark woods and the squelchy mud to hunt a bear. I loved how authors used words — the perfect words — to convey a thousand emotions and take me on a journey from which I could emerge simultaneously drained and invigorated to face reality again.

  I’d devoured books as a child, being the first to exhaust my small town’s primary school library. I continued reading mornings, evenings and during meals throughout my teenage years, deaf to Mum’s pleas for me to go out and have some fun for a change. When my computing teacher suggested I could marry my talent for maths and my love of words by studying Natural Language Programming, I thought all my Christmases came at once. Who knew it would lead to all this?

  Justin’s voice shook me from my thoughts. ‘Listen, Laura. I’m aware this whole business side isn’t what you’re used to. And probably the last thing you want is Suki tagging along with you all day. But this is important. Not only for you and me, but also for the employees we could only pay in shares when we first started. It’s life changing. I’m relying on you to get this data room sorted with Suki ASAP. Show her everything she needs to see — and I mean everything. All access, okay?’

  I frowned. ‘Why does it have to be me?’ I’d planned to check in on Emily again.

  ‘I could ask Sally or one of the other data scientists, but you’re excellent at explaining things in layman’s terms. And you’re the only one who can talk intelligently about what we’re up to with our R&D. Remember, I’m just a pretty face.’

  ‘Oh, ha ha. Fine. Of course, I’ll do it.’

  ‘Good girl.’ Justin stuck out his tongue.

  I snickered and replied with my own tongue as I left the room.

  Suki hovered around the corner, inspecting the calculations on the wall.

  ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Suki.’

  She put her phone in the outside pocket of her bag. ‘That’s okay. I’m all yours.’

  Justin wandered up, readjusting the brown leather belt around his waist. He whispered something to Suki through her sleek, dark hair, nodded to me and strode down the corridor to the open plan office that housed our staff. He thought the lay-out was great for team building; it was my idea of hell.

  Suki watched Justin swagger away. ‘He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah. But don’t worry, he’s harmless.’

  She checked her watch. ‘Do we go back to the boardroom? We should block it off for at least four days while you and I team up to get our ducks in a row.’

  I pressed my book against my stomach. Suki must have read the horror on my face because she changed tack. ‘What’s that you’re reading?’

  ‘It’s about prison camps.’

  ‘That sounds heartbreaking.’

  ‘Yes.’ I wasn’t interested in her small talk.

  Suki briefly pressed her lips together. ‘Listen. Why don’t we exchange numbers, and I’ll call you later to arrange a time to meet tomorrow? You’ll have stuff to finish.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I pulled my phone from my rear pocket.

  She came close, smelling of jasmine and sage. ‘Wow, a Nokia brick. I haven’t seen one of those since I was a kid. And you’re a techie. Aren’t you all supposed to be Apple fanboys? How do you keep up with work emails?’

  ‘I don’t. Not outside of the office.’

  ‘Lucky you. I wish I could get away with that. The world of finance never sleeps.’ She eyed the phone again. ‘What about your friends though?’

  ‘My friend knows where to find me.’

  Suki blinked. ‘No social media either?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, you’re right to avoid it; it’s—’

  ‘Evil.’

  Suki looked perturbed but returned to the task at hand. ‘It’s S-u-k-i Ak-sorn-pan.’ She recited her number. I punched it into my address book, to join my two other contacts.

  ‘Can’t you just send me a list of what you need?’ I proposed. ‘Might save you sitting around while I search for things?’

  ‘We can do that for some bits, but I need you to walk me through your technology. How it works, where it came from, the recent upgrades and, most importantly, the future R&D roadmap — the projects only you know about.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Suki tipped her head sideways, examining me like a specimen. ‘You don’t say much, do you?’

  Her directness took me by surprise. All I could think to say was, ‘No.’ We both laughed at the irony.

  Suki smiled. ‘I can tell this isn’t your bag, and Justin had given me the heads up you might be resistant. So, here’s my offer: if you work with me — and if you trust me — we can change our lives together. But I need you to step out of your little cocoon. What do you say?’

  I squirmed. I treasured my cocoon. Nothing wrong with my cocoon. Why would I ever willingly choose to step out of it?

  My shoulders slumped. I had no choice but to collaborate.
Only for a short period, mind. Then I would get back to my software models.

  I looked at her expectant face, at the curiously over-confident creature that was disrupting my routine and extended the tug of war. Just for kicks. ‘I like my life just fine, thanks.’

  ‘Okay, then we do it to change my life. I’m getting paid a success fee on this deal, and I have many shoes to buy.’ Suki raised one leg to show off an undoubtedly pricey black patent pump with red sole I’d failed to notice before. Why would I, when my own wardrobe consisted of identical black long-sleeved tops and jeans?

  ‘In that case, we’ll meet here tomorrow. 10AM,’ I said.

  This triggered a little high-heeled skip.

  4

  ME

  At six o’clock, I put my computer to sleep. I looked around the open plan space. Only a few heads remained partially visible behind rows of computer monitors.

  Outside, office workers walked past to grab a drink in the various cafés and restaurants at the centre of the trendy Quartermile district on their way home. A few peeked into Empisoft’s colourful, fully glazed enclosure, no doubt expecting a glimpse of the magic being created by this celebrated start-up.

  The Royal Infirmary Hospital formerly stood on the Empisoft site, but the cost of maintaining such a giant Victorian structure had become prohibitive. Despite residents’ objections, the council gave permission to eager developers eyeing prime city-centre real estate, which spawned six shiny black metal-framed, multi-storey office buildings. Those indoors were afforded views of the renaissance architecture of the George Heriot school on one side and the Pentland hills lying in the distance on the other.

  On the ground floor, however, the views were of passers-by, Lothian buses, and, when school broke out in the afternoon, queues of taxi-rank-hogging black SUVs picking up their owners’ blue-blazered young.

  When I stepped outside, I threw my blue backpack over my shoulder, careful not to snag my ponytail, and turned right toward the Meadows. I greeted the woman closing up her little food truck on the main path to the park with a nod, as I did every day. I no longer experienced a pang of guilt for never buying anything. She waved in return, as usual.