Remember Me?

by Sophie Kinsella

  “Nothing’s over,” I say cuttingly. “I’ll just take this back to my office-”

  “Give me a break!” He sounds incredulous. “I mean, for God’s sake! Do you really think you’re kidding-”

  “Hey!” Amy’s high-pitched voice shoots across the office, drawing everyone’s attention. “Look! That’s Jude Law! With no shirt on!”

  “Jude Law?”

  “Where is he?”

  Byron’s voice is drowned out under an instant stampede to the window. Debs is pushing Carolyn out of the way, and even Lucinda is craning to see.

  I love my little sister.

  “Right,” I say in a businesslike way. “Well, I must get on. Clare, could you finish this up, please?” I thrust the voucher at her.

  “It is Jude Law!” I can hear Amy insisting. “I just saw him kissing Sienna! We should call OK! magazine!”

  “She hasn’t remembered a bloody thing!” Byron is saying furiously, trying to make his voice heard. “This is all a bloody act!”

  “I need to go to my meeting with Simon. Get back to work.” I swivel on my heel in my best scary-Lexi manner and walk rapidly out of the office before he can reply.

  ***

  The door of Simon Johnson’s office is closed as I arrive upstairs, and Natasha gestures to me to take a seat. I sink down onto the sofa, still a bit shaky from Byron’s near-confrontation. “Are you both seeing Simon Johnson?” she says in surprise, looking at Fi.

  “No. Fi’s just here…”

  I can’t say, “As moral support.”

  “Lexi needed to consult me on a sales document,” Fi says smoothly, and raises her eyebrows at Natasha. “She really is back to her old self.”

  “Understood.” Natasha raises her own eyebrows back.

  A moment later the phone rings and Natasha listens for a moment. “All right, Simon,” she says at length. “I’ll tell her.” She puts down the receiver and looks at me. “Lexi, Simon’s in with Sir David and a few other directors.”

  “Sir David Allbright?” I echo apprehensively.

  Sir David Allbright is chairman of the board. He’s the total bigwig, even bigger and wiggier than Simon. And he’s really fierce, everyone says so.

  “That’s right.” Natasha nods. “Simon says you should just go in, join the meeting and see all of them. In about five minutes, okay?”

  Panic is sending little shooters through my chest. I wasn’t counting on Sir David and the directors.

  “Of course! Fine. Um…Fi, I need to powder my nose. Let’s just continue our discussion in the Ladies’.”

  “Fine.” Fi looks surprised. “Whatever.”

  I push my way into the empty Ladies’ and sit down on a stool, breathing hard. “I can’t do this.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t do it.” I hug my folder helplessly. “This is a stupid plan. How am I going to impress Sir David Allbright? I’ve never given a presentation to important people like that. I’m no good at giving speeches-”

  “Yes, you are!” retorts Fi. “Lexi, you’ve given speeches to the whole company. You were excellent.”

  “Really?” I stare at her blankly.

  “I wouldn’t lie,” she says firmly. “At the last sales conference you were brilliant. You can do this standing on your head. You just have to believe it.”

  I’m silent for a few seconds, trying to picture it, wanting to believe it. But it doesn’t chime in my brain. It’s not registered anywhere. She could be telling me I’m fabulous at the circus trapeze, or have a great triple axel.

  “I don’t know.” I rub my face hopelessly, my energy dissipating. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a boss. Maybe I should just give up-”

  “No! You’re totally meant to be a boss!”

  “How can you say that?” My voice trembles. “When I was promoted to director, I couldn’t cope! I alienated all of you, I didn’t manage the department well…I fucked it up. And they realize that.” I jerk my head toward the door. “That’s why they demoted me. I don’t know why I’m even bothering.” I sink my head into my hands.

  “Lexi, you didn’t fuck it up.” Fi speaks in a rush, almost brusque with embarrassment. “You were a good boss.”

  “Yeah.” I look up briefly and roll my eyes. “Right.”

  “You were.” Her cheeks have reddened. “We…weren’t fair. Look, we were all pissed off at you, so we gave you a hard time.” She hesitates, twisting a paper towel into a plait. “Yes, you were too impatient some of the time. But you did some really great things. You are good at motivating people. Everyone felt alive and kicking. People wanted to impress you. They admired you.”

  As I take in her words I can feel an underlying tension slowly slipping off me, like a blanket onto the floor. Except I can’t quite trust what I’m hearing.

  “But you made me sound like such a bitch. All of you.”

  Fi nods. “You were a bitch some of the time. But sometimes you needed to be.” She hesitates, weaving the towel through her fingers. “Carolyn was taking the piss with her expenses. She deserved a bit of a rocket. I didn’t say that,” she adds quickly, with a grin, and I can’t help smiling back.

  The door to the Ladies’ opens and a cleaner starts coming in with a mop.

  “Could you give us two minutes?” I say at once in my best crisp, don’t-argue-with-me voice. “Thanks.” The door closes again.

  “Thing is, Lex…” Fi abandons her mangled paper towel. “We were jealous.” She looks at me frankly.

  “Jealous?”

  “One minute you were Snaggletooth. Next thing, you’ve got this amazing hair and teeth and your own office, and you’re in charge and telling us what to do.”

  “I know.” I sigh. “It’s…mad.”

  “It’s not mad.” To my surprise. Fi comes over to where I’m sitting. She crouches down and takes both my shoulders in her hands. “They made a good decision, promoting you. You can be boss, Lexi. You can do this. A million times better than fucking Byron.” She swivels her eyes derisively.

  I’m so touched by her belief in me, I can’t quite speak for a moment.

  “I just want to be…one of you,” I say at last. “With everybody.”

  “You will be. You are. But someone has to be out there.” Fi sits back on her heels. “Lexi, remember when we were at primary school? Remember the sack race on sports day?”

  “Don’t remind me.” I roll my eyes. “I fucked that up too. Fell flat on my face.”

  “That’s not the point.” Fi shakes her head vigorously. “The point is, you were winning. You were way out in front. And if you’d kept going, if you hadn’t waited for the rest of us…you would have won.” She gazes almost fiercely at me, with the same green eyes I’ve known since I was six years old. “Just keep going. Don’t think about it, don’t look back.”

  The door opens again and we both start.

  “Lexi?” It’s Natasha, her pale brow wrinkling as she sees me and Fi. “I wondered where you’d got to! Are you ready?” I give one final glance at Fi, then get to my feet and lift my chin high. “Yes. Ready.”

  ***

  I can do this. I can. As I walk into Simon Johnson’s room, my back is ramrod stiff and my smile rigid.

  “Lexi.” Simon beams. “Good to see you. Come and take a seat.”

  Everyone else looks totally at ease. Four directors are clustered around a small table, in comfortable leather chairs. Cups of coffee are on the go. A thin, graying man whom I recognize as David Allbright is talking to the man on his left about a villa in Provence.

  “So, your memory is recovered!” Simon hands me a cup of coffee. “Tremendous news, Lexi.”

  “Yes. It’s great!”

  “We’re just going through the implications of June ’07.” He nods at the papers spread over the table. “This is very good timing, because I know you had some strong views about the amalgamation of departments. You know everyone here?” He pulls out a chair, but I don’t sit down.

  “Actually…�
�� My hands are damp and I curl them around the folder. “Actually, I wanted to speak to you. All of you. About…something else.”

  David Allbright looks up with a frown. “What?”

  “Flooring.”

  Simon winces. Someone else mutters, “For God’s sake.”

  “Lexi.” Simon’s voice is tight. “We’ve discussed this before. We’ve moved on. We’re no longer dealing in Flooring.”

  “But I’ve done a deal! That’s what I want to talk about!” I take a deep breath. “I’ve always felt the archive prints that Deller owns are one of its biggest assets. For several months I’ve been trying to find a way to harness these assets. Now I have a deal in place with a company that would like to use one of our old designs. It’ll raise Deller’s profile. It’ll turn the department around!” I can’t help sounding exhilarated. “I know I can motivate my department. This can be the beginning to something big and exciting! All we need is another chance. Just one more chance!”

  I stop breathlessly and survey the faces.

  I can see it at once. I have made precisely no impact whatsoever. Sir David has the same impatient frown on his face. Simon looks murderous. One guy is checking his BlackBerry.

  “I thought the decision on Flooring had been made,” Sir David Allbright says testily to Simon. “Why are we raising it again?”

  “It has been decided, Sir David,” he says hurriedly. “Lexi, I don’t know what you’re doing-”

  “I’m doing business!” I retort with a clench of frustration.

  “Young lady,” Sir David says. “Business is forward-looking. Deller is a new-millennium, high-tech company. We have to move with the times, not cling to the old.”

  “I’m not clinging!” I try not to yell. “The old Deller prints are fabulous. It’s a crime not to use them.”

  “Is this to do with your husband?” Simon says, as though he suddenly understands. “Lexi’s husband is a property developer,” he explains to the others, then turns back to me. “Lexi, with all due respect, you’re not going to save your department by carpeting a couple of show flats.”

  One of the men laughs and I feel a knife of fury. Carpeting a couple of show flats? Is that all they think I’m capable of? Once they hear what this deal is, they’ll…they’ll…

  I’m drawing myself up, ready to tell them; ready to blow them away. I can feel the bubbling of triumph, mixed with a bit of venom. Maybe Jon’s right, maybe I am a bit of a cobra.

  “If you really want to know…” I begin, eyes blazing.

  And then all of a sudden I change my mind. I halt, mid-sentence, thinking furiously. I can feel myself retreating, fangs going back in.

  Biding my time.

  “So…you’ve really made your decision?” I say in a different, more resigned voice.

  “We made our decision a long time ago,” says Simon. “As you well know.”

  “Right.” I sink as though in massive disappointment and chew at one of my nails. Then I perk up as though an idea’s just hit me. “Well, if you’re not interested, maybe I could buy the copyright of the designs? So I can license them as a private venture.”

  “Jesus Christ,” mutters Sir David.

  “Lexi, please don’t waste your time and money,” says Simon. “You have a position here. You have prospects. There’s no need for this kind of gesture.”

  “I want to,” I say stubbornly. “I really believe in Deller Carpets. But I need it soon, for my deal.”

  I can see the directors exchanging glances.

  “She had a bump to the head in a car crash,” Simon murmurs to the guy I don’t recognize. “She hasn’t been right since. You have to feel sorry for her, really.”

  “Let’s just sort it out.” Sir David Allbright waves an impatient hand.

  “I agree.” Simon heads to his desk, lifts his phone, and punches in a number. “Ken? Simon Johnson here. One of our employees will be coming to see you about the copyright of some old Deller Carpets design. We’re closing down the department, as you know, but she’s got some idea of licensing it.” He listens for a moment. “Yes, I know. No, she’s not a company, just a single operator. Work out a nominal fee and the paperwork, could you? Thanks, Ken.”

  He puts the phone down, then scribbles a name and number on a piece of paper.

  “Ken Allison. Our company lawyer. Call him to make an appointment.”

  “Thanks.” I nod and pocket the paper.

  “And Lexi.” Simon pauses. “I know we talked about a three-month leave. But I think that by mutual agreement your employment here should be terminated.”

  “Fine.” I nod. “I…understand. Good-bye. And thanks.”

  I turn on my heel and walk out. As I open the door I can hear Simon saying, “It’s a terrific shame. That girl had such potential…”

  Somehow I get out of the room without skipping.

  ***

  Fi is waiting for me as I step out of the lift at the third floor, and raises her eyebrows. “Well?”

  “Didn’t work,” I murmur as we head to the main Flooring office. “But it’s not all over.”

  “There she is.” Byron heads out of his office as I pass by. “The miracle recovery girl.”

  “Shut up,” I say over my shoulder.

  “So, are we really supposed to believe that you’ve recovered your memory?” His sarcastic drawl follows me. “You’re really going to snap back into it?”

  I turn and regard him with a blank, perplexed gaze.

  “Who’s he?” I say at last to Fi, who snorts with laughter.

  “Very funny,” snaps Byron, whose cheeks have colored. “But if you think-”

  “Oh, leave it out, Byron!” I say wearily. “You can have my fucking job.” I’ve arrived at the door to the main office, and clap my hands to get everyone’s attention.

  “Hi,” I say, as everyone looks up. “I just wanted to let you know, I’m not cured. I haven’t got my memory back, that was a lie. I tried to pull off a massive bluff, to try to save this department. But…I failed. I’m really sorry.”

  As everyone watches, agog, I take a few steps into the office, looking around at the desks, the wall charts, the computers. They’ll all be pulled down and disposed of. Sold, or chucked into skips. This whole little world will be over.

  “I did everything I could, but…” I exhale sharply. “Anyway. The other news is, I’ve been fired. So Byron, over to you.” I register the jolt of shock on Byron’s face and can’t help a half-smile. “And to all of you who hated me or thought I was a total hard-as-nails bitch…” I swivel around, taking in all the silent faces. “I’m sorry. I know I didn’t get it right. But I did my best. Cheers, and good luck, everyone.” I lift a hand.

  “Thanks, Lexi,” says Melanie awkwardly. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

  “Yeah…thanks,” chimes in Clare, whose eyes have been like saucers through my speech.

  To my astonishment someone starts clapping. And suddenly the whole room is applauding.

  “Stop it.” My eyes start stinging and I blink hard. “You idiots. I didn’t do anything. I failed.”

  I glance at Fi and she’s clapping hardest of all.

  “Anyway.” I try to keep my composure. “As I say, I’ve been fired, so I’ll be going to the pub immediately to get pissed.” There’s a laugh around the room. “I know it’s only eleven o’clock…but anyone care to join me?”

  ***

  By three o’clock, my bar bill is over three hundred quid. Most of the Flooring employees have drifted back to the office, including a fractious Byron, who has been in and out of the pub, demanding that everyone return, for the last four hours.

  It was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. When I produced my platinum AmEx, the pub people whacked up the music for us and provided hot nibbles, and Fi gave a speech. Amy did a karaoke version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire,” then got chucked out by the bar staff, who suddenly realized she was underage. (I told her to go back to the office and I’d see her ther
e, but I think she’s gone to TopShop.) And then two girls I barely know did a fantastic sketch of Simon Johnson and Sir David Allbright meeting on a blind date. Which apparently they did at Christmas, only of course I don’t remember it.

  Everyone had a great time; in fact, the only one who didn’t get totally pissed was me. I couldn’t, because I have a meeting with Ken Allison at four-thirty.

  “So.” Fi lifts her drink. “To us.” She clinks glasses with me, Debs, and Carolyn. It’s just the four of us sitting around a table now. Like the old days.

  “To being unemployed,” Debs says morosely, picking a bit of party popper out of her hair. “Not that we blame you, Lexi,” she adds hastily.

  I take a swig of wine, then lean forward. “Okay, you guys. I have something to tell you. But you can’t let on to anyone.”

  “What?” Carolyn is bright-eyed. “Are you pregnant?”

  “No, you dope!” I lower my voice. “I’ve done a deal. That’s what I was trying to tell Simon Johnson about. This company wants to use one of our old retro carpet designs. Like a special, high-profile limited edition. They’ll use the Deller name, we’ll get huge PR…it’ll be amazing! The details are all sorted out, I just need to finalize the contract.”

  “That’s great, Lexi,” says Debs, looking uncertain. “But how can you do it now you’re fired?”

  “The directors are letting me license the old designs as an independent operator. For a song! They’re so shortsighted.” I pick up a samosa-then put it down again, too excited to eat. “I mean, this could be just the start! There’s so much archive material. If it grows, we could expand, employ some more of the old team…turn ourselves into a company…”

  “I can’t believe they weren’t interested.” Fi shakes her head incredulously.

  “They’ve totally written off carpet and flooring. All they care about is bloody home entertainment systems. But that’s good! It means they’re going to let me license all the designs for practically nothing. Then all the profits will come to me. And…whoever works with me.”