In Office Hours

by Lucy Kellaway

  – It’s cold, she said.

  He took off his coat and placed it over both of them. He gave her a sandwich – roast beef and horseradish on white bread, exactly what she would never have chosen herself – and started eating his own.

  Stella leant against him under his coat and felt entirely happy. She was doing something that was dangerous physically, emotionally and professionally and yet she felt quite safe. She was ruling over London, and Rhys had his arms around her.

  – Can I ask you something? he said.

  – Yes, she said.

  – Why do you like me?

  Stella laughed.

  – I have no idea, she said.

  Bella

  Bella had been back from her lunch for nearly three-quarters of an hour when her mobile phone went. It was Rhys.

  – Hi, can you do me an enormous favour? he asked.

  – It depends, said Bella. But yes, probably.

  – I’ve done something a bit stupid. I’m stuck up on the roof. I went up there to look at the view, and the door has closed behind me and I can’t get back in. Can you come and let me down?

  Bella said fine, though she wondered what he was up to. She couldn’t make him out at all. He had said he was going out to lunch with someone – but then he had bought sandwiches in the canteen and now he was locked on the roof. She hadn’t even known that you could get on to the roof, but he explained where the door was and she pressed it open, to find Rhys looking red-faced and breathless on the other side.

  – What on earth were you doing up there? Bella asked as they walked down the stairs.

  He shrugged.

  – There’s an amazing view.

  Just as they were about to go through the swing doors back towards their desks, Rhys said: Damn, I’ve left something up there. I’ll be back in a sec.

  Bella sat at her desk thinking about what an odd person he was. The wild impulsiveness that made him do things like going through fire doors on to the roof had seemed bold and attractive when she first met him. But now it just seemed stupid. Why couldn’t he spend his lunchtimes going to the canteen like everyone else?

  When he returned, Bella asked: I thought you were having lunch with Rosa?

  – Oh no, he said lightly. We split up.

  – What did you leave up there? Bella persisted.

  Rhys was prevented from answering by the approach of James, who walked straight up to him and said he would like him to prepare a paper on consumer attitudes to a windfall profits tax on oil companies.

  Watching James give orders to Rhys and watching Rhys nod respectfully gave Bella a thrill. She alone knew what James was like when he wasn’t like this. The previous lunchtime they had gone back to the Great Eastern, and as Bella had sat in the bath afterwards, James had held up his hands as if holding a camera and pretended to take pictures of her.

  – Click, he had said. I’ll want to keep these to look back on when I’m old and remember what has been one of the happiest days of my life.

  – But you are old, Bella had pointed out, the brusqueness of her reply hiding her pleasure.

  Now he had turned to her and was looking at her levelly.

  – As you know, I am visiting New York next week for a meeting with analysts. I think it would be helpful if you came along – it would give you a greater feeling for how the investment community rates us.

  Helpful. Bella loved his use of the word. It would be helpful. Very.

  This time persuading her mother to look after Millie was easier. She had now decided that her daughter’s new job was a good thing, and that if Bella was earning more she was more likely to find a decent boyfriend. She had also noticed how pretty Bella was looking and thought this would probably lead to her finding a man; it did not occur to her that it was the result of her having found one already. If she had known the truth about this particular man her response would have been quite different – as the victim of adultery, she felt that any woman who ever had sex with a married man was a vixen, a temptress, the very devil.

  Anthea had booked the flights: three business class tickets for James, Bella and Philip Miller, the finance director. But James, on seeing the schedule, had calmly said that it would suit him better to fly out from Gatwick rather than Heathrow, and it would be a good idea if Bella was on the same flight as he’d be able to brief her on the trip. Anthea looked as if she were about to say something, but had second thoughts, and did as she was told.

  Bella was about to go home, when Anthea came by her desk.

  – You and I need to have a chat, she said.

  – Sorry, said Bella, I have a lot of stuff to finish off before the trip.

  – I think it would be better if we had a chat anyway.

  Bella stopped reading the paper that explained the complicated link between movements in the oil price and in company profitability, and followed Anthea into her old office. She sat down at her old desk, picked up a stapler and started to fiddle with it.

  – People say a lot of things about me, Anthea said. But one thing they don’t say is that I’m blind. They don’t say I’m disloyal, either. And so, because I’m not blind – she jabbed at her eyes as if to prove it – I’ve been able to see what’s happening between you and James. I realized that something was going on from the beginning. I saw how you egged him on. I saw how you tried to get his attention – showing off with the Russian translations and that business over taking those tickets to his house.

  Bella considered pointing out that she had not studied Russian in order to bag James. And that doing the wife a favour was not usually a prelude to shagging the husband. But she didn’t say anything.

  – Every time you go out together I see. The fire alarm was outrageous. Do you think people didn’t notice?

  – It’s not what you think, Bella said feebly.

  – I’m a very broadminded person, and I don’t gossip.

  Bella let both these assertions pass.

  – However, I’ve always believed that anything like this in the office is not only wrong, it is unprofessional and it reflects badly on the entire organization.

  – Have you said anything to James?

  – No, I haven’t and I’m not going to. I know that James has strayed – she clicked her tongue and wiggled two fingers on each side to indicate a pair of inverted commas – at least once before and that it never lasts with him. He is a normal man with normal – she paused – urges.

  She inclined her head knowingly.

  – So if a young attractive woman comes and sits on his desk and bats her eyelids at him, then he responds.

  – I have never done that, Bella protested.

  – But even though you are at fault in this, it’s you I’m worried about. You and I have always had a very good working relationship – haven’t we?

  – Oh yes, said Bella weakly.

  – You do know that you have everything to lose, don’t you? When he tires of you, you’ll be out.

  The lecture was brought to a halt by the arrival of James himself, who put his head around the door, ignored Bella and said to Anthea: Can you book a car to take us straight from JFK to our first appointment? I think time may be tight?

  She smiled at him.

  – I’ve done that already.

  – You’re a star, he said.

  Bella watched Anthea pull the straight face that she pulled when really pleased. The thought occurred to her: did Anthea have feelings for him too?

  Stella

  – Why are you going to the doctor? Clemmie was asking.

  – Because I need a breast check-up, said Stella.

  – Have you got a lump? Clemmie asked, alarmed.

  – No, but I haven’t had it done for ages, so I thought I’d better.

  Clemmie accepted this, as there was no particular reason why she shouldn’t.

  – Hope you’re OK, she said.

  – Thanks, darling. I’m sure I’ll be fine.

  She wasn’t going to the doctor for a breast
examination. She was going because when she had had sex with Charles the previous night she had noticed a strong, unpleasant smell of fish that was still there in the morning. While the children were eating their cereal she looked it up on the internet and diagnosed herself as having bacterial vaginosis, a condition that required treatment with antibiotics.

  In the waiting-room she texted Rhys.

  At doctors. Have repulsive complaint that is all your fault. Stink like fish shop. Sx

  He texted back:

  !!??xx

  Which Stella did not think was sufficiently sympathetic.

  The doctor on emergency duty that morning looked ludicrously young, though he was probably a year or two older than Rhys. Stella recognized him as the one she had seen two months earlier when she had taken Finn to be seen because he had pulled a muscle in his calf playing football.

  – So, he said brightly. What can I do for you?

  She rattled her symptoms off quickly, as if trying to distance herself from them.

  – I have vaginal itching, a foul-smelling discharge and have noticed an unpleasant smell – rather like fish – on intercourse.

  He cleared his throat and shifted a little.

  – I am sorry to have to ask you this, he said. But it will help me get the right treatment for you. Have you had more than one sexual partner in the last week?

  It was a long time since Stella had known such embarrassment. She remembered going to the doctor during her first year at university with cystitis, and being asked if she was sexually active. Not understanding the question, she had replied: it depends what you call active, and the doctor had then solemnly explained that he was asking her if she was a virgin.

  Stella fixed her eyes on the machine for taking blood pressure.

  – Yes, she said.

  – Typically, the young doctor said, the vagina contains a balance of healthy bacteria, known as lactobacilli, and dangerous bacteria, known as anaerobes. The acidic environment of the vagina aids in keeping this bacterial balance in check. Sometimes, however, the environment in the vagina is disrupted and, as a result, the number of anaerobes begins to increase.

  Stella listened to these medical words with relief. They were something to hide her shame behind.

  – Lie down, please, and take off your trousers and your underpants. I need to do a swab.

  He pressed the button on his intercom and said into it: I need a nurse in Room 3 for an internal exam.

  A young woman knocked on the door and came in. Stella knew that the nurse was meant to be there to protect her honour: male doctors were no longer allowed to do internal examinations without a female chaperone. Yet the audience made Stella feel even more wretched than she was feeling already. She took off her clothes and lay on the high, hard bed so that the doctor could collect samples from inside her and pop them into test tubes.

  Stella looked at her pale legs bent at the knee and felt revolted not just by her body but by her whole being.

  – You can get dressed now.

  He gave her a prescription, and told her that she must finish the course.

  Out in the street, unable to find a taxi and late for her meeting, Stella felt rising panic. She hated the person she was becoming, and wished that things could be simple. Boredom, which she used to dread, she now longed for. She thought of Clemmie this morning, she thought of how easy it had been to lie to her trusting daughter. She thought of the doctor and of the pretty nurse as witness to her shame. But then she thought of Rhys, and thought of being without Rhys, and that thought filled her with an even greater panic.

  In the cab she dialled his number; his phone rang twice and then went through to voicemail.

  Wonderful, thought Stella. I have had to lie to my children, bear some disgusting infection, be late for work, and he can’t even pick up his bloody phone.

  But when she got into the office she found a Post-it note stuck to her computer screen. It said:

  In my veins there is a wish,

  And a memory of fish.

  Stella smiled. What was the indignity of having to spread one’s legs to a young doctor when one was in love with someone who knew just the right lines from Auden? She tore a page out of her pad and completed the quote:

  Here am I, here are you:

  But what does it mean? What are we going to do?

  She put it in an internal post envelope, wrote his name on the front and dropped it into her outbox.

  Bella

  Bella sat on the train to Gatwick worrying about her clothes. She had gone shopping at the weekend and bought a cheap pinstriped suit from Zara that was tight and full of Lycra. When she had tried it on the previous night she had thought she looked all wrong for a business meeting, and it didn’t go with her shoes, which were too clumpy.

  This worry was crowding out bigger worries: What should she do about Anthea? Was she going to tell? She badly wanted to tell James that they had been found out, but feared that he might panic and call it off.

  But mostly she was worried about James himself, that he was the worst choice of man she had made yet. He was married, he was her boss, apparently he ‘strayed’ all the time, and she was almost certainly going to get horribly hurt and then fired. She had turned this over and over in her mind in bed the night before, and hit upon a strategy. If he was using her, she would use him too. She would use him to show her New York, to have a lovely time. If he wanted her for sex, she would want him for sex too. She would keep everything light. She would be in the moment.

  James accepted two glasses of champagne from the stewardess and raised one to Bella.

  – Here’s to you, he said, taking a tiny sip. You look radiant.

  – I am, she said, taking a gulp. So much so that I feel like getting plastered.

  – I don’t normally drink on transatlantic flights, he said. It’s so dehydrating.

  Bella felt a tiny prick of disappointment. Even when he was being reckless he was sensible.

  – But then, he went on, I don’t normally do this. In fact I have never done anything like this in my life before.

  – Never? she asked. Swear?

  – Swear, he said, taking her hand and squeezing it.

  The doubt which she had banished returned, larger than before.

  – Can I ask you something? she asked.

  – You can, he said.

  – Do you promise you won’t be cross?

  – No, he said. I don’t promise that. But I can say that given everything I know about you, I cannot imagine a circumstance in which you might make me cross.

  – OK. I want to ask you about Julia.

  – Julia?

  – Yes, Julia.

  – What about her?

  – You tell me.

  James withdrew his hand from hers.

  – What do you know?

  – That’s not the point, and it isn’t what I asked.

  James paused and recrossed his legs the other way.

  – OK, he said. We had a brief – and he paused as if searching for just the right word – liaison. It was a mistake, and although I take full responsibility for what I did, I really wasn’t in my right mind. It’s not something that I am proud of. I don’t think either of us came out of it in a good light.

  – But you did well out of it?

  – What do you mean by that?

  – Well, she left AE because of you, and you took on her job. She lost everything – you gained everything.

  – Bella, he said firmly, with all due respect, you don’t know what you are talking about.

  – I do. I know exactly what I’m talking about. I was her PA. And because both of you are IT retards you have no idea about security and I saw all the messages.

  – You did what?

  He looked at Bella in the most horrible way.

  – They were private. That was a breach of trust.

  – All I did was read some emails – it’s my job to read emails. As for you: first you shag a colleague, then you dump h
er. You show no remorse – instead you take her job. Then you shag your new PA. And you think you are a decent man because you have told this PA that you love your wife. You aren’t decent – you’re a hypocrite. And then you have the nerve to say that this is a first for you.

  Bella sat back in the seat. She was shaking. What on earth was she doing? Why had she taken the happiness she had felt ten minutes ago and torn it in tiny pieces? Why was she already breaking her own rule that she was going to take it easy and enjoy the pleasure he was offering for now? She could not bear listening to him lie. She couldn’t bear not knowing the truth.

  – Bella, James said. Bella. Let me speak.

  He tried to take her hand again, but she snatched it away.

  – With Julia I was at a low point. Things at home were difficult: Hillary was distant, partly as a result of the medication she was taking, and Julia made a huge play for me. And I was weak and went along with it – it was mainly a physical thing –

  Bella winced.

  – But then Hilly had a relapse and went back into the Priory, and I felt so awful I broke it off with Julia. I didn’t tell her about Hilly as I didn’t really think it was her business. I’m not proud of what I did. But I tried to end it decently; it was a shame that she didn’t really feel like being professional about it herself.

  – Decently, said Bella scornfully.

  – I had never done anything like that before, and vowed I would not again. But then along came you, Bella; and this is something different. I think about you all the time. Do you know that? You are brave and lovely, and I can’t believe that you have fallen into my lap. And right now I feel a sort of happiness that I don’t deserve, that I never thought I would feel again in my life –

  – But what about your wife? said Bella, slightly mollified. She isn’t well yet. And doesn’t that count as far as you’re concerned?

  – Yes, it does count, he said. It counts more than anything. I am carrying the guilt of that. I feel terrible about it, but that’s my responsibility, not yours. But will you do me a favour? Can you not mention it for the next three days?

  The taxi pulled up at the Ritz Carlton hotel on Central Park South. James gave $60 to the surly driver, and got their bags out of the boot, Bella’s cheap black wheelie case looking quite wrong against James’s Mulberry suit carrier.