‘Yes, you’ve mentioned it.’
‘It was a different job then. Back when you didn’t have to pussy-foot around all this political correctness. We’d call a spade a spade.’
‘And a skirt a skirt.’ Boris joined in.
‘Right,’ Felix said with a rumbling chuckle. ‘And you did what you had to do for the company. Nothing was handed to me on a plate. I didn't go around quoting the terms of my contract.’
‘It's all What can the company do for me? these days,’ Boris said.
A moaning, whining sound invaded the floor. The vacuuming had started. Thankfully I couldn’t hear them anymore. I looked at my screen. It still had the last email I sent to Boris. What was the point in sending it? Boris didn’t know how to stand up for us. He only knew how to say what people wanted to hear. I looked around my desk for my handbag. It was sitting on the floor. I delicately picked it up and lifted my ID badge off the desk. I would never get the support I needed from Boris, I realised. I was going to have to look for it elsewhere.
Crouching down I sneaked to the end of the floor. ‘Evening,’ I whispered to the cleaner who looked at me like I was an old pair of shoes blocking the way. I straightened up once I turned the corner and hurried to the exit.
The HR department was six floors up. I was only there once before, for my interview and hadn’t been back since joining the company. When the lifts opened a man was walking up to meet them with a tilted head.
‘Good morning. Are you Orla?’ he asked. Bright blue rimmed glasses sat across his nose and he was wearing a buttoned up cardigan over his shirt.
‘Yes, Ellis?’
‘Yes, hi. Thought I'd come round to get you. You'd never find the room by yourself,’ he said with the lilt of a Scottish accent.
We began walking down a corridor with meeting rooms on either side. Like our floor, the walls and doors were glass. But inside, theirs were furnished with couches and coffee tables and flowers. Some of the rooms had frosted glass.
‘It’s an absolute maze here. For my first few months I got lost every day,’ he continued. ‘But I drank a lot of water though cause I kept stopping by the water coolers. I'd take a wee sip and look around.’
I laughed as he directed us around a corner.
‘Are you finding it cold? There's a draft here somewhere. I don't know what to wear on the way out the door these days,’ he said.
‘Yeah, I've got into my summer skirts but it may have been a bit soon.’
‘Oh, you are brave.’
‘Well, I’m still wearing tights.’
‘Good thinking.’ We turned another corner. ‘Right, here we are.’ He pushed open a door. ‘Take a seat please.’
‘Thanks.’ We settled down over a low, wide coffee table. My knees peaked over the edge of the table and I pressed my hands on them. Business magazines including the CouperDaye journal were spread evenly between us. ‘Em... Ellis is quite an unusual name,’ I ventured.
‘Yes. My mum was an Elvis fan. So, my parents compromised on Ellis. Lucky me. Would you like some water or anything?’
‘No. I’m fine thank you.’
‘Right. So, how is everything going in R&D then?’
‘Well, I have some concerns that I would like to talk about, which is why I asked for this meeting.’
‘I’m glad you made the appointment then.’ He opened a folder on his lap and began writing.
‘Things are chaotic right now for our team. The merge between developers and business analysts isn't working and management seem to be turning a blind eye.’
‘Oh right. Well, in what way is it not working, Orla?’
‘Felix Stern sent around an email last month saying we had to be expert in each other’s jobs in two months. But we've been given no training or handover or proper guideline about the scope of the new role.’
‘Right. I thought you were getting training. Has that not happened yet?’
‘We’ve had an hour here and there on market terminology. But, that’s not enough.’
‘Okay. Well that’s certainly something we can raise with your managers, if you feel you’re not getting the training you need.’ He scribbled as he spoke. ‘Now, this merge, it’s happening across the department, is that right? It’s not just your team?’
‘Yes, all the development groups have merged with their analysis counter-parts. But, the thing is, our team is different. Our analysts don’t just write our specs, they act as project manager for all the downstream teams involved in a project. And we’ve been told we have no choice but to take on this management role.’
‘Right I see. Have you spoken with your immediate manager about your concerns?’
‘He says I just have to make the best of it. But, I don’t know if you know... I’m on a revision programme. I’m really worried about making mistakes. I can’t afford for anything to go wrong.’
‘Yes, I know about the programme.’ He tapped the folder.
‘I feel like I've been made a scapegoat. Like the only thing that went wrong with METX was me.’
‘Right. So, you feel that the programme is unfair?’
‘Yes. And Felix Stern is harsh with me. I mean, he’s accused me of not taking my job seriously, which is just really upsetting because I do take my job seriously. And now my immediate manager is undermining me in front of everyone.’
Ellis shifted into the corner of his chair and slapped gently the pages of his folder. ‘Well, we're working with R&D on improving management-employee relations. But I think you should see this programme as a positive thing, Orla. It stands for fairness. You see, because it’s official, it actually lessens the chance that you could be discriminated against. So you can see it that way rather than see it as a threat. Also, you get more time with your manager so those things you’re saying about not knowing your scope and so on, you now have more of an opportunity than others to address that.’
‘But...’ I began to feel deflated by his blindness, ‘this programme will always be on my record. That’s what bothers me.’
‘But once it's finished, we draw a line under the issue and say, right, Orla Hanlon is able to do any project we give her. She’s at senior level, end of story.’
‘But my senior status should not be questioned,’ I snapped. ‘I was interviewed at senior level and I worked successfully on projects for six months at senior level. I’ve been a senior for two years.’
‘I think we need to take a deep breath here and a step back. Look. What about if Felix, you and I sit down together and talk about this?’
‘Oh no. I don't think that would be a good idea.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don't think Felix likes me very much and that would only make things worse.’
‘Oh I’m sure that Felix doesn’t dislike you,’ he chuckled. ‘But if you feel you’re being discriminated against then we can talk about taking official steps.’
‘No, I don’t want to do anything official. And I definitely want this meeting to be just between you and me.’
‘Okay, that's okay.’
I eyed the folder Ellis was updating. He snapped it shut and I wondered about its contents. Who would see it? What were the notes used for? And would this meeting just be another waste of my time or could it actually prove detrimental?
Chapter Eight
Deelie caught up behind me on the jogging track. ‘Orla, you really took off,’ she said. ‘You want to run alone or something?’
‘Hi Deelie.’ I was trying to catch up with the gazelles but I didn’t want to be rude. ‘No. How’s it going?’
‘So hung-over – work thing last night.’ She paused to suck in more air. ‘Plans for the weekend?’
‘Painting.’ I panted back.
Our footsteps fell in sync as the path straightened.
‘No plans? Aren’t you seeing someone?’ she asked.
‘Yeah. Casual. Don’t see him every weekend.’
‘Don’t want something serious, huh?’
‘I’m still new here. Should make friends. And, have to put work first for a while.’
‘Pretty serious about your job.’
‘How’s the pace?’ I said, changing the subject.
We became single file crossing the gap into the second park.
‘What’s it like being the only woman?’ Deelie asked.
‘You get used to it.’
‘You must really like what you do.’
‘I’ve always liked it.’ It was true and my usual reply but now I realised it felt like a lie.
‘I’m impressed. I bet you do really well.’
I imagined myself explaining to her what was really happening. I couldn’t. The truth was humiliating. ‘I manage,’ I finally mumbled between breaths.
‘Oh come on, you must be good at your job. Or else you wouldn’t survive. You’re like a pioneer.’
‘No pain no gain.’ I accelerated along the path below the big tree. I could feel my thighs beginning to burn.
‘Orla slow down. George up ahead. Seriously, pulse check.’
We came to a stop opposite each other and pressed fingers to our wrists.
‘Do you have a watch?’ I looked at her.
‘No.’
‘Fuck’s sake,’ I said as we both laughed. ‘Let’s stretch for a bit.’
We made shapes in the path, triangles with our legs.
‘Any update on George?’ I asked.
‘There’s a club social coming up soon. He’s going. He asked me if I was going.’
‘Really? That sounds promising.’
‘I think he was just being nice.’ She shrugged. ‘You coming?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Oh c’mon. I need a wingman.’
‘You know, I really don’t think I fit in here to be honest.’
‘Neither do I. You mean because it’s cliquey? You just have to ignore that.’ She squinted at me, tilting her head.
The social scene was why I joined the club in the first place, I remembered. ‘You’re right,’ I nodded, ‘and I do want to see you finally put the moves on George.’
‘Great.’
‘C’mon. He’s gone,’ I said looking ahead.
We started running again.
I stretched more at home before taking a shower and then ordered my usual pizza for dinner. My rescued frames were laid out on paper on the living room floor. After eating, I gently sandpapered each of them. They were warped but there were no signs of wood rot, to my knowledge, and according to the website I consulted. I tried to knock off the rough bits, although they would never be totally straight. As I worked, the only sound was the hum and click of the central heating turning on and off and the occasional sound-wave coming from the surrounding apartments of people moving or laughing loudly. I applied the first layer of varnish to the frames and left them to dry.
The hardware store I needed was a short tube ride away from work. I didn’t tell Boris I’d be gone longer than my hour’s lunch break. He mightn’t have let me go.
I pushed around a trolley, empty except for ceiling spotlights that looked like bicycle lights and two rolls of masking tape. Painting was all about the masking tape, I had discovered. Like a colouring book, I smoothed tape around the window sills and over skirting, preparing the outline of my drawing.
Would I lose my home if I lost my job? The thought had been circling my mind. As I moved into the test phase on BelOpt I had found some bugs but something still wasn’t right with the Desktop display of Strategies.
A child rammed his truck into my trolley and then stood back looking up at me.
‘Be careful,’ I said, ‘this is a very angry trolley.’
He ran back to his mother who turned around and peered at me with narrowing eyes.
I watched her as she came over, hoping she would try to start a fight. But she just picked up the truck and went back to her son. ‘Where did you get this truck?’ I heard her say.
I got to the cash register with a list of furniture I had chosen for delivery. A chair, a bookshelf and matching bedside laps.
It had taken me two hours if anyone had noticed. I dropped my head passing Felix’s office, with the square bag tight to my side.
With no other ideas, I went over the old examples again of how to provide Desktop with strategies. Phil said the process was to send an XML formatted file to the Desktop server with the strategy values provided by the exchange. I didn’t know how to write XML but there were examples in other projects. I flicked through the folder from my Market Data course. A strategy was a group of connected markets, so that a trade in the strategy meant simultaneous trades in all of its markets. A market named any tradable asset on an exchange. Markets that were part of a strategy were called Legs. I had built the XML correctly as far as I could see, containing the list of legs and the correct trading price in each leg. But when I examined the Desktop graphs generated from my test data, the highest and lowest prices indicated on the strategy lines were all wrong.
I posted Desktop an investigation request outlining how the values were different between my test results and the sample sent by the Exchange. Perhaps there was just something wrong with how they were reading my XML file or simply something wrong with the graphical display. Then I emailed the Exchange asking them if they could double-check their sample. I sent Phil an email too but I didn’t expect to hear back from him. This was a low priority project after all. I held my head in my hands over my desk and rubbed my temples, imagining I had been hit with a bad headache. This whole thing is a joke, I thought. But I’m the one left holding the joke.
A message beeped on my screen:
Felix Stern to Orla Hanlon
See me in my office
The familiar tone made my heart race. When I opened the door of his office I was hit with cold prickles over my skin. Ellis was there too with an empty chair next to him.
‘Hi, Orla. How are you doing?’ Ellis smiled.
‘Fine thanks, Ellis,’ I said, sitting down.
‘I’m here, Orla, to facilitate a conversation between you and Felix. Felix, would you like to go ahead?’
Felix ignored Ellis. ‘Were you at a Tradeq party last month?’
The question brought me back to my school days. Were you in St. Mary’s school for the St. Marys disco on Friday night? I wondered if a firm no would carry any water this time.
‘Em, yes.’
‘Who invited you?’ Felix asked.
‘No one,’ I said. ‘I thought we were all invited, we do business with them.’
‘Those parties are for Exchange Group people only.’
‘Oh really? I didn’t know that.’
‘You would have been made aware of our ethics policy during your induction. We ask everyone to familiarise themselves with these guidelines,’ Ellis explained carefully.
‘Now that I’m a business analyst as well as a developer, I thought I was automatically invited.’
‘What? Are you being smart?’ Felix barked.
‘The Business Analysts go.’
‘I don’t give a fuck who goes!’
‘Okay,’ Ellis jumped in, ‘I think we need to take a deep breath. Orla, the issue here is that your behaviour could have caused a situation for the company, and unfortunately the information that was relayed to Felix is that you were behaving in an inappropriate manner with a member of the Exchange.’
I burst out laughing at Ellis’ discomfort. ‘Sorry,’ I said covering my mouth.
‘I feel like giving you a verbal warning right now,’ Felix continued.
‘A verbal warning would be preceded by a disciplinary hearing,’ Ellis said quickly. ‘You would get written notice of the hearing and you would be entitled to bring a witness.’
I laughed more, curling in the chair.
‘What the fuck are you laughing at?’
‘I don’t feel the direction this meeting is taking is helpful.’ Ellis interrupted again, waving his hands in the air. ‘If we could just take that step back.’<
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‘I think you think you’re a student here. Partying. Not doing your hours.’
‘That’s an outrageous accusation and I refuse to defend myself against it.’ Anger came out of nowhere like a puff of wind.
‘We’re not trying to accuse you, Orla,’ Ellis said. ‘We just need to examine if there is a problem here and move on.’
‘There’s no problem. How do we move on?’ I said, still looking at Felix.
Ellis glanced nervously at Felix and back to me. ‘We’re not going to take disciplinary action at this time but we do think it would be good for you to take the Ethics course again. Just so that you know what the company expects of you and so that we feel we’ve given you all the information you need. If there are further incidents of this nature, you could face a disciplinary hearing which could result in a verbal or in a written warning.’
The Ethics course twice. That was another mark against me.
‘Felix, is there anything more you’d like to add at this time?’
‘I want to see a major change in your attitude.’
‘Are we done?’ I asked, brazenly.
‘Get out of my office.’
I sat at my desk reeling. Felix must want me out. Why else would you treat someone like that? I held my shaking hand over the keyboard and hid it again. Did he know I went to HR last week? How long had he known about the Tradeq party?
Sam stuck his head over the wall of my cube.
‘Jesus.’ I slapped my forehead. ‘You frightened the life out of me.’
‘Sorry. Are you okay?’
‘Fine.’ My hand went to my throat while the other went to the keyboard, as if I was busy.
‘I did your code review for Germany.’
‘Oh,’ I said lightly. I checked the website, to find his review.
Sam Lock
Code review complete
It wasn’t enough. ‘Would you mind updating with more detail? Saying what you’ve looked at. What you think the risk level might be.’
‘Oh, sure... look, I saw you with Felix.’ His voice dropped. ’Is everything okay?’
The I.T. Girl Page 9