Take a Moment

by Nina Kaye

  Sasha and I certainly made the most of our time together. As a follow-on from Friday night, we spent Saturday morning wandering round the impressive interior of the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery, with its ornamental ironwork, eye-catching high ceilings and colourful mosaicked floors. We then made a pit stop at the museum’s Edwardian Tearooms for a scrumptious afternoon tea, before going shopping at the Bullring – which included an inordinate amount of time spent in Selfridges. The evening was spent on the couch in front of an edge-of-your-seat psychological thriller. On Sunday, we checked out the stylish new library at Centenary Square, before taking a trip to Cadbury World (an obvious choice for the mature adults that we are). Then I saw Sasha onto her six o’clock train back to Glasgow.

  It was an emotional goodbye this time, quite the opposite to my stoic departure from Glasgow all those weeks before. Needless to say, there were tears on Sasha’s part, but even I found myself having to swallow a bit too hard as I waved her off.

  By the time she left, Sasha was ready to face her mum. I’d made sure of that. And the best outcome of the weekend by far was that she loved Birmingham. My fingers remained firmly crossed that she’d follow through on this one and join me here soon.

  ‘Good morning, Alex.’ Emmanuel greets me with a broad smile as I dump my bag under my desk, pull out my chair and log on to my computer. ‘How was your weekend? I hope you had a lovely time with your friend.’

  ‘I did, thanks.’ I return her smile, making sure I don’t let any sign of my exhaustion leak through. ‘It was so great to see her. Thanks again for the time off at such late notice.’

  ‘Not at all. It’s your holiday time to use as you wish. I fully trust you to manage your own workload.’

  ‘Well, it was appreciated all the same.’

  ‘Speaking of your work… I’d like to have a catch-up with you this afternoon, if you have time?’

  ‘Sure.’ I quickly check my calendar. ‘I’ve nothing in my diary from three p.m. Does that suit?’

  ‘That’s perfect. We can go out for a coffee.’

  As I add the meeting to my calendar and ping an invite across to Emmanuel, curiosity takes over. We had our fortnightly catch-up on Thursday last week. What could she want to talk to me about so soon after? My mind starts to tick over my project plan, wondering if there’s something I’ve missed. I really hope not. I’ve been meticulous in making sure that all bases are covered. Unless… My gaze moves across to Danielle’s desk, where she’s diligently poring through some data on an Excel spreadsheet. She senses my eyes on her, looks across and smiles in her false, expressionless way.

  ‘Everything OK, Alex?’ she asks.

  Is it just me, or was there a bit of gloating mixed in with her usual sugar-coated acidity?

  ‘Everything’s great,’ I reply. ‘Did you have a good weekend?’

  ‘I did. Visited my parents in London – a weekend of shopping and shows. Funny actually, turns out John was in London too. We all ended up having afternoon tea together at my parents’ house in Kensington.’

  ‘How lovely. Who’s John? Is that your boyfriend?’

  Danielle smirks, eyes returning to her screen. ‘Hardly. I mean John Chambers. Our chief exec.’

  ‘Right. How… lovely.’ I turn back to my own computer screen and start scrolling through my unread emails.

  Danielle’s telling me this for a reason. It’s no secret that she likes to one-up me at every opportunity, but what if… No, surely not. I glance across at Emmanuel, who’s immersed in her own work. What if Danielle’s still not given me the full picture of the data for the project, and she’s sown a few seeds with the chief exec to suggest I’m not on it? Is she that vindictive? I want to answer my own question with ‘absolutely not – don’t be paranoid’. But I can’t. My reading of Danielle is that she’ll do anything, and take out anyone she needs to, in order to get what she wants.

  I decide there’s no point in mulling this over too much. I’ll have my answer this afternoon. Instead, I throw myself into my work, ensuring I’m on top of everything.

  By lunchtime I’m feeling quite confident that Danielle has nothing on me, but I’m annoyed that she’s managed to rattle me in a way I’ve never experienced before. I’ve never doubted myself because of someone else. Either Danielle’s a level above anyone else I’ve met, or – and I don’t even want to admit this to myself – my medical situation has knocked my confidence and self-esteem more than I’ve realised.

  Irritated by this thought, I decide I need some air, so I quickly grab my things and head out of the office. Despite being late autumn, it’s an unseasonable fourteen degrees with only a light breeze. So even though I’m exhausted, I decide to take a walk by the canal to clear my head. As I wander along the canal bank, watching the Canada geese dabbling in the water, I take some deep refreshing breaths.

  So what if Danielle has set me up? I can handle her. I will handle her – like the professional that I am. I need to focus on my strengths, not my weaknesses – and one of them is dealing with people like her. With this narrative running through my mind, I feel cheered and more in control.

  Spotting a bench, I sit down and start to eat my quinoa salad while checking my personal emails on my phone. As I do, a flicker of a memory from Friday night flashes in my mind: my brief conversation with Matt. A smile spreads across my face.

  I open up my messages app and tap out a new text message.

  Hi Matt. Hope you enjoyed the rest of your weekend. Mine was too busy. Exhausted today. When are you free to be wowed on your own private tour of this fine city? Alex.

  My thumb hovers over the end of the message. Should I add my signature double kisses? We are going on a date… but I hardly know the guy. I suddenly feel like I’m fifteen again. Guided by my hesitation, I decide to leave off the kisses and hit send. Then I put my phone on my lap and continue to eat my lunch.

  My thighs are getting a bit chilled from the bench but it doesn’t bother me. I’m enjoying the peace that this inner city waterway provides. It’s like a little sanctuary away from the vibrancy of Brindley Place – something I wouldn’t naturally seek out, but with my energy levels not being what they were, I’ve learned to appreciate the odd bit of peace and quiet.

  To my surprise, my phone lights up in my lap with a very quick response from Matt. I pick it up and read it.

  Hi Alex. Good to hear from you. Spent all weekend biting my nails, wondering if you’d actually get in touch this time. Sorry, just kidding – that’s the last time, I promise. This weekend’s wide open. How about I spare you the research and take you out for a drink on Friday instead? x

  I laugh as I read his response. He’s got a cheeky side to him, all right. I like that.

  As I have no plans for this coming weekend (other than recovering from Sasha’s visit and a busy week at work), I accept Matt’s offer of drinks and arrange a time and place with him. I can get my rest on Saturday and Sunday. We message back and forth, his fun side really starting to show through, and I find myself getting sucked into the banter. So much so, I only remember I’m due back in the office for a project-related meeting with ten minutes to spare.

  I quickly pack away my empty plastic box and hurry back along the canal path at a more intense pace. I can feel the fringes of my fatigue starting to nag at me: that low-level, weighted-down feeling that intermittently kicks in when I push myself physically. Then, on climbing the steps of the bridge that crosses the canal from the International Conference Centre to Brindley Place, my body goes into full-blown protest. Between my busy weekend and now this, I’ve pushed myself beyond my limits.

  I reach the top of the steps, respiring so heavily that I have to stop to regain my composure. My muscles are burning from the exertion. It’s like someone has poured hot lava through my body. As I’m leaning on the side of the bridge, trying to regulate my breathing, a voice comes from behind me.

  ‘Alex? Is that you?’

  I look round, still panting, and my heart sinks. It
’s Danielle. She’s with a woman I’ve never seen before.

  ‘Oh, hi.’ I try my best to sound relaxed. ‘Yeah, I’m good. I was just… taking a lunchtime run. Overdone it a bit.’ I feel the heat in my face, aware that I’m flushed from the overexertion. I’m hoping she’ll buy it.

  Danielle raises a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Might be wise to wear running gear next time. You’ve probably overheated in those clothes.’

  Her companion smirks, her expression one of cruel judgement, and I look down and realise my spontaneous excuse might not have been the most convincing. Though I changed into my trainers for the walk, I’m still wearing my grey trouser suit and black tie-neck blouse.

  ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ I laugh, my composure thankfully returning. ‘What was I thinking? Should have abandoned the run after I discovered I’d forgotten my running gear.’

  ‘Sure.’ Danielle’s smile is so false, she’s not even trying to hide it. ‘You know, I like running. We should go out together one lunchtime.’

  I take in Danielle’s smug face, not believing for a second that she’s a runner, and decide to play her at her own game.

  ‘Absolutely. Let’s sort that out.’

  With a flick of her hair, she struts off with her companion, the two of them whispering and giggling as they go. That’s all I need.

  * * *

  By three o’clock, I’m beyond exhausted and feeling somewhere around one-prod-and-I-may-actually-hit-the-deck.

  ‘Ready to go?’ Emmanuel pops her head over the divider between our desks.

  I grit my teeth. ‘Yes, definitely.’

  Locking my computer, I grab my notepad and purse and wait at the end of the bank of desks. As I’m standing there, Felix returns to his desk with a freshly made coffee and gives me a friendly smile.

  ‘That was a good meeting earlier, Alex. You understand change very well. I am surprised. Most project managers, especially IT project managers, see only the technical side.’

  I return his smile, the positive and unexpected feedback giving me a boost I very much needed. ‘Thanks Felix. We’re definitely on the same page.’

  ‘You’re full of surprises, Alex.’ Dhruv leans back in his desk chair and folds his arms. ‘I reckon you’re actually a spy – James Bond-style. Admit it, this job is just a cover.’

  ‘You got me.’ I hold up my hands in mock surrender. ‘Seriously though? If all it took to be James Bond was project and change management skills, those films would be pretty dull.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Dhruv puts on a movie trailer voice. ‘Project management super-spy saves the world, one change impact analysis at a time.’

  We laugh in response.

  ‘There’s no hidden superpowers.’ I smile at him. ‘I’m just a regular IT project manager.’

  ‘That’s what Clark Kent said.’ He eyes me suspiciously and I shake my head despairingly at him.

  ‘Right, sorry, Alex.’ Emmanuel finally joins me at the end of the desks. ‘What a day it’s been. If every Monday was like this, I’d burn out in no time.’

  I offer her a sympathetic look.

  We make our way out of the building and across the plaza to the same Italian cafe-restaurant she took me to on my first day. Once we’re seated she orders cappuccinos and toasted panettone, this time not allowing me the opportunity to decline. I wonder if this is to soften the blow of whatever message or feedback she’s about to deliver.

  ‘How’s your day been?’ she asks. ‘Less hectic than mine, I hope.’

  ‘I’d say so. I even managed a walk along the canal at lunch.’

  ‘That’s good. You need to make sure you take breaks.’ She reaches up and fiddles with the huge bun her braids have been pulled up into. ‘I’ve noticed you working through your lunch most days.’

  Emmanuel purses her lips, like she’s preparing to say something.

  Here it comes. What bomb has Danielle dropped in an attempt to unseat me from my position?

  Before Emmanuel can share her thinking, the waiter arrives at our table with our food and drinks. We thank him, then busy ourselves for a moment stirring our coffees and savouring our first bites of panettone.

  ‘So, what did you want to catch up about?’ I ask to move things along.

  ‘Right, yes.’ Emmanuel sips at her cappuccino. ‘Now I know you haven’t been here long, Alex. But the feedback I’ve received strongly suggests a need for some kind of intervention.’

  ‘Feedback?’

  This does not sound good.

  ‘Yes, I’ve been gathering feedback from a range of sources, and I’m confident this is the right time for this conversation, even at this early stage.’

  A range of sources? I thought Danielle was the only one.

  ‘This conversation being…?’

  ‘Oh, sorry, Alex. I’m talking in riddles. Didn’t manage to get lunch. Think my blood sugar is low.’

  She takes another bite of her panettone, leaving me with the agony of having to wait until she has swallowed before I know what’s going on. I watch her intently, willing her to chew faster so I can hear the case against me and prepare my defence.

  ‘All right,’ she says finally. ‘I’ll get to the point. Alex, I know you’ve only been with us for a few months, but what I see in you is a level of potential I’ve seen in very few people. I’d like to nominate you for the Future Leaders talent programme. That is, if you’re interested?’

  What? This isn’t the showdown I was expecting. Far from it. I was convinced that Danielle had finally made some progress in her bid to oust me. Realising this not to be the case, I feel a bit guilty for jumping to conclusions. Then I remember how Danielle has behaved towards me since I joined and the guilt evaporates faster than a puddle in a hot desert.

  I break into a huge smile. ‘Of course I’m interested, Emmanuel. Thank you so much. But are you sure about this? As you say, I’ve only been here a couple of months. Also, what about…’ I can’t bear to finish my sentence.

  ‘I’ve taken all that into consideration. We need greater diversity at senior levels within the company. I realise that one day you may no longer be able to take on such a challenge, but why shouldn’t you have the opportunity to do so while you can? With your potential, and the right development, I can see you taking on a role at my level within a year. And I expect that within three to five years I’ll be reporting to you.’

  I’m stunned by Emmanuel’s candour. She’s talking about me succeeding and climbing the career ladder beyond her, and she’s not just accepting it, she’s encouraging it.

  ‘Emmanuel, wow. I don’t know what to say. Thank you for having such confidence in me.’

  ‘You made it easy, Alex.’ She smiles at me, almost affectionately. ‘Now, eat up and I’ll run you through the programme, what the expectations are, etc. Just to be sure this is for you.’

  I take a satisfying bite of my panettone as Emmanuel starts to share the details. While she talks, I find myself getting more and more excited. Me? One of the company’s future top leaders? I’ve read about the programme; only a handful of employees get put through it every year. I was doing well in my previous job, but the talent scheme there was like the holy grail. So many people pursuing it, but never seeming to get the tap on the shoulder. I came to Birmingham to claim back my life and, boy, have I managed that.

  I had nothing to worry about. Danielle is a dissatisfied, spiteful person. But she’s not really a threat. I won’t let her get to me again. This is the confidence boost I needed to make sure of that.

  Chapter 20

  Emmanuel’s vote of confidence carries me through the week, pushing my nagging exhaustion to one side. Things seem to happen very quickly: I receive my programme information by email, then a date is set for an induction day that I’ll attend alongside some other company colleagues. Between this and the flirty, stomach-swirling messages torpedoing back and forth between me and Matt, I keep thinking this is all too good to be true. Even Danielle doesn’t rattle me, though s
he keeps popping up, armed with some snarky comment or other.

  Friday is no exception to this. As we’re parked in our usual meeting room, having our weekly project meeting with colleagues from our international offices joining through Zoom, Danielle decides to throw in yet another of her grenades.

  ‘Sorry for keeping you a couple of minutes late – especially on a Friday.’ I start to wrap things up. ‘That was really useful to work through the specific stakeholder issues we’re experiencing. Before we sign off, does anyone have any final questions or concerns about what we’ve discussed and agreed today?’

  There’s a collective ‘no’ in response.

  ‘I’m just concerned it’s 4:32 p.m. on a Friday and I’m not in the pub yet,’ Dhruv jokes.

  ‘Shall I add that to the issue log?’ I throw back.

  There’s a smattering of laughter in response to our regular double act. I’m about to wish everyone a good weekend when Danielle pipes up.

  ‘Actually, I have a question.’

  ‘Sure, Danielle.’ I smile easily at her, but I’m wondering why she feels the need to hold everyone up even longer and what kind of shit she’s about to try to stir up. ‘What’s on your mind?’

  ‘I was just wondering… if you’re going to have less time to manage the project now, have you put plans in place to cover some of your responsibilities?’

  ‘Sorry, Danielle. I’m not sure what you’re referring to?’

  ‘Oh, you know, because you’re on the Future Leaders programme now. That will take up quite a bit of your time. Congratulations, by the way.’

  I blanch internally, but ensure I keep my face poker-straight. How the hell does she know about that? Emmanuel and I were keeping that between us until next week, when she was going to announce it at the quarterly departmental meeting. Emmanuel has already warned me that this kind of internal success can cause resentment among colleagues who have not been successful – Felix, our change manager, being one who didn’t quite make the cut – which is why the announcement was to be carefully managed.