The I.T. Girl

by Pearse, Fiona

  ‘I was just so focused on finding the problem.’ I blushed.

  ‘A senior engineer tracks down the problem and handles risk at the same time. A senior engineer doesn’t take risks.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t fully aware of all my options.’ I wondered how long this humiliation would last. ‘Look, the things that went wrong were because of a lack of experience. Next time I’ll know better.’

  ‘That’s why you’re being put on a revision programme.’

  ‘What? What’s that?’

  ‘It’s an official way for us to monitor your progress and make sure you know everything you need to know.’

  I looked about the office, blinking, trying to understand.

  ‘It’ll be run over a few months and supervised by your team leader,’ Felix continued. ‘At the end, he’ll sign off on your work. I’ll sign off on it and so will HR.’

  ‘HR? But, wait, Felix, the mistakes I have made are due to a lack of experience in this particular area. A lack of test facilities. Look, to be honest, I don’t think this merge is being handled well. Do you realise we’re being forced into roles that we don’t want? It’s not just me.’

  ‘This merge is about what’s best for the company.’ He poked at the desk. ‘We need to be on top of the new Asian markets and I expect a hundred and ten per cent from everyone.’

  How could he think I had a bad attitude? Wasn’t it obvious I was committed to my job? I hadn’t been prepared for this kind of attack. My gaze dropped to my hands, taking a break from his stare.

  ‘Did you know James in OTC once fixed eighteen bugs in one day. John in Derivatives once worked twenty hours straight to see a rollout through. The thing that pisses me off about you is that you were given a good pay rise.’

  I shrank down in the easy-chair and remembered my six month review. It had been strong. They had given me six per cent.

  ‘Read this,’ Felix handed me an envelope.

  I opened the envelope and glanced down the paragraphs.

  Failed to follow procedure… did not alert manager to problems… poor test practices… could result in disciplinary action.

  ‘What does that last bit mean? About disciplinary action?’

  ‘Disciplinary action would be either a verbal or written warning if you fail the programme.’ Felix looked impatient behind his narrowing eyes. As if the question was outside his concern. ‘Or you could be re-graded as a junior.’

  ‘A junior?’

  ‘You signed a contract as a senior systems analyst. We need to know you have the necessary skills for that job.’

  ‘Is that all?’ I managed to say. ‘I’d like to be excused.’ I winced inside at how childish I sounded.

  ‘Sure.’ Felix mumbled and went back to his computer screen as I let myself out of his office.

  Our Monday meeting had started. I ignored Boris’s wave and went straight into the toilets. For once, being the only woman on the floor was an advantage; I always had the toilets to myself. Rumour had it when Felix took over his position he questioned why the men couldn’t use the ladies when theirs had a queue. I leaned over a sink and tried to get my head around what just happened. I had heard of this happening to someone in the States. After three programmes he’d been fired. I couldn’t risk being fired. Or demoted. I’d have to leave. But how could I leave so soon? The hop would look bad on my C.V.

  I went back out to the floor and grabbed my handbag. I needed to escape.

  Chapter Five

  I wanted to scream at Desktop. Instead I cranked the phone against my ear and started typing.

  ‘Again, the underlyings are enabled via the switches. So, you need to send us that information. Same with price retrieval,’ Gordon, my Desktop contact was saying. We had met at the AsiaCap kick-off meeting. He had a long face and a short nose, like a cartoon cat.

  Under my new role, the project required me to write the spec for Desktop and I tried to remember the terms they were using from the Introductory Market Data course. ‘It’s just that: as I was saying, Gordon – I’m writing this down and will have to check it with the consultant.’ I continued to click my inbox, willing the screen to refresh with new mail.

  ‘We’ll probably need about two weeks to implement. We test it from here, make sure it’s enabled but we don’t do any end to end testing. That’s up to you.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll update the website when that’s ready for you.’ I jumped when new email appeared. It was the reply to my job application.

  ‘Okay, thanks everybody. Have a nice day.’ Gordon ended the call.

  I hung up the phone and took a closer look. Development focus, full life-cycle. I went through the form and filled in the questions about my job history.

  Last job: DataCom

  Reason for leaving: Travelling

  References? Mark McCarthy

  They were my previous employment details. I had only been with CouperDaye for eight months. I could pretend I’d been back-packing and this job never happened.

  Interviewer: Rob Hanger

  It was an agency interview. I’d have to get past some twenty-two year-old with a spotty face and a shiny suit first. But, once I got to the real thing, I had the skills they needed.

  The T.V. screens around the canteen were showing a Jerome Ross 5-Minute Snap about Payroll. I passed below the rolling scene that started with a picture of a chemical pulp mill where wood-free paper was made. The Life of a Payslip covered each step up of production up to the rubber stamp and journey through the office in the mail-cart.

  ‘Hi,’ I said as I slid into our booth.

  ‘Hi,’ Sam replied. We held each other’s eye for a moment and I flinched, hit with self-consciousness. This was my first time to talk to someone since my meeting with Felix. Everyone knew something had happened over METX but I had said no to the lunch invites and drinks suggestions like I was closing a curtain. I was trying to digest the information myself first, before letting the vultures descend.

  ‘How’s tricks?’ he asked.

  ‘Different.’

  ‘Different?’

  ‘I’ve been put on a revision programme.’

  ‘That’s outrageous! Say you’ll leave if they try to go through with it.’

  ‘There’s no way I’m staying. I’ve already sent out my C.V. I’m waiting for confirmation of an interview.’

  ‘What did Stern say?’

  ‘Didn’t push for what my project needed. Didn’t react fast enough. Apparently that’s not senior behaviour.’

  ‘But, how can they justify a revision programme? That’s for people who are deliberately negligent or repeatedly break the rules. It’s not for someone who’s relatively new and still learning the ropes. What are they playing at?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said wearily.

  ‘Fuck. That’s harsh.’

  I looked at my plate and began pushing food around. Sam retreated to his lunch too and chewed angrily.

  ‘Look,’ he said through bites, ‘Boris is trying to talk me into going to some Exchange party tonight. You want to come along?’

  ‘The Tradeq thing? I don’t know. Those things always get messy.’

  ‘C’mon. I don’t want to go with that idiot by myself.’

  ‘Oh well... then you’ve persuaded me,’ I laughed. ‘Who can I be this time?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know we’re not supposed to go. It’s only for Exchange group.’

  ‘Ah, that’s what he was talking about. You must be Jenny then. So, does this mean we’re supposed to sneak out or something? Do we need to come up with a signal?’

  ‘No. We can leave together.’ I cocked my head with mock exasperation.

  We ate the rest of our curry and rice with the conversation cutting up CouperDaye policies. I listened to Sam’s rants about the history of its inconsistencies and depths of its incompetency, laughing, but my stomach still felt sick.

  The darkly-lit basement cranked like a booze-cruise bar under the strai
n of alcohol filled thirty-somethings and long forgotten work ethics. The party was being held in the Exchange’s auditorium but the speeches were long over and dancing had broken out in corners as well as on the dance floor. Boris, Sam and I huddled over a table. We had deliberately avoided mixing with clients. I was definitely not in the mood and to Sam it was the condition for his coming. Boris had given in to us.

  ‘How dare Felix question my senior level. I mean what the fuck does he think I am?’ I shouted above the music. ‘I may be still fairly new to this company but I’ve been writing software for eight years.’ I took another swig of G&T. ‘He acts like I have a bad attitude or am some kind of delinquent. And like, leaning on me is the best way to motivate me.’ The thought warranted another gulp.

  ‘You just don’t know how to play the game, Orls,’ Boris teased. ‘Got to know the rules of the game.’ He winked as if we shared a secret.

  ‘Don’t be so smug. And don’t call me Orls either.’ I slumped back in my chair.

  ‘Ooh, someone’s had a little too much to drink.’

  ‘Speak for yourself.’ I clinked my glass into Boris’.

  ‘Felix is a prick,’ Sam began. ‘Look, I think you’ve got to gather evidence now. I mean, say you go through this programme and something goes wrong with one of your projects. You’ll need to have your case ready. You’ve got to justify every step.’

  ‘Orla, that chap you had a thing with last time is here.’ Boris gestured to the dance floor.

  ‘Boris, I didn’t have a thing with him,’ I scolded. ‘Anyway I’m not interested.’

  ‘I reckon you should run over there and snog the girl next to him,’ Boris said.

  I fell to the side, laughing, spilling my drink. ‘Keep your fantasies to yourself, Boris. Hey, I love this song. C’mon let’s dance.’ I pulled at both of them. Sam resisted my grasp.

  ‘C’mon,’ I said again. ‘I really need to let my hair down.’

  ‘I’m not stopping you,’ Sam said.

  ‘She don’t want no rock’n’roll,’ I sang along on the dance floor, feeling the weight of work finally begin to lift away.

  A fair-haired man still wearing his jacket despite the heat crossed the floor and remembered me from the party before. ‘Lucy?’ he asked, dropping his hand around my waist.

  ‘It’s Jenny this time. Ben, right?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He stepped into rhythm behind me. I vaguely remembered meeting him at the last Exchange party. Through a drunken haze we had danced before knowing each other’s name and linked arms to do Tequila shots.

  ‘Hey, behave yourself.’ I laughed at his hands following my hips. I remembered this too – he pushed things as far as he could. I slapped him away and went back to Boris.

  ‘He’s gagging for it,’ Boris said into my ear.

  ‘Just dancing,’ I insisted. I looked over at our table. Sam was standing with his coat.

  ‘Stay.’ I caught Sam and leaned my hands into his shoulders.

  ‘I’ve an early start in the morning. And so do you.’

  ‘But why don’t you stay?’

  ‘You stay.’

  ‘But if you stay for another drink then we can leave together.’

  ‘I think I’ll leave you to it. You look like you’re having fun with your friend.’

  ‘He’s not my friend.’ My voice was high with protest, but I dropped my hands.

  ‘See you tomorrow, Orla.’ He squeezed my arm and stepped around me.

  ‘He’s a lightweight,’ Boris said when I went back to the dance floor.

  ‘God,’ I drawled. ‘He’s so serious sometimes.’

  At the end of the song I snuck up behind Ben. ‘See you later, Ben.’ I brushed my hand down his back.

  ‘Smooth,’ Boris nodded his approval as we sat down. I guzzled some more G&T. It felt like 7Up.

  ‘So you’re going to be keeping an eye on me at work then, Boris?’

  He raised his eyebrow. ‘I’ll just guide you, teach you. Be your mentor, if you will.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll learn thing or two,’ I quipped.

  ‘Hey, I do your job too, remember? It’ll be a while before you catch up with me,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Look. He’s talking to another woman. You want to put a stop to that.’

  We looked around at Ben and he looked back at me.

  ‘What’s your plan of action?’ Boris asked.

  ‘I’m going to feel him up until he snogs me.’

  ‘Works for me.’

  I watched Ben go to the bar. ‘Round two,’ I said.

  At the bar I ordered more drinks. A hand breezed across my bum. I jumped around shocked but then saw Ben walking away. With my drinks clutched in one hand I passed him by and returned the compliment. A small sober voice reminded me I was at a work event and this was going too far. It felt like a little stab – there was a time I’d have been fired up to meet clients – put a face to a name I might be working with in the future. But I didn’t care. I was going to be leaving the company soon.

  ‘We felt each other’s ass!’ I informed Boris.

  ‘Yay!’ Boris imitated my enthusiasm. ‘Thanks for the drink but I’m going to have to go. Michelle just rang, wondering where the fuck I am.’ He laughed. ‘She didn’t say it like that but that is in essence what she wanted to know.’

  ‘Ah really?’

  ‘Yeah, sorry. You’re in there, though.’

  I looked at Ben’s group. They were a tight circle, talking. I recognised one of the women from our Exchange team. ‘I think I’ll pretend I’m leaving too,’ I said to Boris. ‘If he bites, he bites.’

  We went around to various groups sharing ‘goodbyes’ with those we had avoided sharing ‘hellos’. At each group, I looked over at Ben. He was looking back at me. I turned a corner into the cloakroom and waded through the coat rack. The party was still in full swing so there was no one else around. I sang along to the music. ‘I feel so bohemian like you...’

  Hands came up from behind, over my breasts.

  ‘Hi,’ Ben said as I turned around to his mouth. I giggled while we kissed. He pushed me up against the wall.

  ‘Hey, cut it out.’ A sober voice commanded from the doorway.

  ‘Sorry,’ Ben muttered with a quick glance. ‘You want to go back to my place?’

  ‘No. School night. Maybe some other time though.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll want to some other time.’

  ‘Well leave then.’ I slapped his chest.

  We kissed again. His hand dropped down to my thigh, raising my skirt.

  ‘Jesus, what are you, sixteen?’ I teased. ‘Take it easy.’ I raised his hand but still gave in to his mouth. There was something to be said for a man who’s most consistent relationship was with his gym, I thought, feeling muscle pressing against my ribs. Suddenly he sucked my tongue roughly into his mouth. It hurt but I couldn’t pull back. I tried pushing him away but only managed to force out a muffled scream.

  ‘Ow! That hurt.’ My hand flew to my mouth as soon as I was released.

  ‘What?’ He held up his hands.

  ‘I’m going.’ I pushed him away.

  ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘Leave me alone.’ I escaped the cloakroom without finding my jacket.

  Outside in the air, sobriety found me. I remembered my new route home and realised it would be an hour before my head hit the pillow. I began walking, listening to the click-clack of my shoes and the occasional sound of mock arguments and laughter. The early morning air had brought a chill.

  Boris came to my cube the following morning, and looking over my head, said conspiratorially, ‘I’ve booked a room.’

  I followed him along the floor with a pounding head. His hair looked like a manic bird dance but his face was heavy with tiredness. I noticed a folder swinging from his hand. Our meeting rooms were glass panelled and ran along one wing of the floor. The last room was for the head of department. Currently that was Felix Stern. But there had been four heads in Boris’ six years.
>
  ‘Right. I’ve drawn up a plan of attack. No, it’s not really. It’s just a list of things you are supposed to do.’ Boris placed his folder between us when we sat down and flipped it open.

  ‘Requirements Analysis. Design. Flowcharts. Test plan. Outline of any issues as early as possible. Specs to other departments. And that’s about it really.’ He tapped his pen on the open page. ‘We’ll have a meeting about once a week, outside of our weekly team meeting, to see how we’re doing. They’re called Buddy meetings.’

  ‘What?’ I winced, demanding an explanation.

  ‘It’s the name we give to a kind of mentoring relationship.’

  I stared at the different coloured separators, each representing a step of the software life-cycle, with Boris’s vision in coloured bullet points. ‘So, this is how you want me to work on AsiaCap from now on?’

  ‘BelOpt.’

  ‘When will I get back to AsiaCap?’

  ‘You won’t I’m afraid. Sam will be taking it over.’

  ‘What? Hang on, we discussed this at my six month review. I said I wanted more development and you said I could get the AsiaCap project because it’s the only decent development at the moment.’

  ‘Look Orla, AsiaCap is high-profile. BelOpt is low-profile. You want to stay off the radar for a while.’

  ‘Fine. Whatever.’ I folded my arms for the rest of the Buddy meeting and allowed myself to day-dream about my new job.

  I took a look at my new specs and immediately realised, as I thought about moving forward, I would need to know more.

  I knocked on the soft wall of Boris’ cube and then waited with my notebook page of questions while he was on the phone.

  ‘Okay. Thanks, mate. Cheers, Rob, mate.’ He hung up the phone.

  ‘Hey. Whatsup?’ He pointed his fingers at me like a gun.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Just been headhunted again. Probably won’t leave but it’s nice to know I’m wanted.’