***
Clara paced the sitting room for a while before she could settle. Her head was filled with thoughts of revenge, and she felt almost positive about the process. She knew that whatever happened she would not just go away. She knew that she would ensure that her family didn’t find out. She knew that they would all be proud of her one day.
When sleep finally greeted her, she dreamt of Tim Pemberton’s head on a shiny silver platter.
PART FOUR
THE DRAWING BOARD
Chapter Sixteen
When Ella woke her head hurt and her mouth felt as if it had been stuffed with leaves. Her throat also hurt, and the memory of the cigarettes flooded back. Then the memory of why she had been smoking hit her. She looked at the clock; it was 6 a.m. She picked up the telephone.
“Hello,” a sleepy voice said.
“Jackie, It’s me.” Ella said, rubbing her temples.
“Ella? Are you OK?”
“No, not really. I got sacked.”
“You what?”
“I got sacked.”
“Shit, you’re joking. Christ, Ella, I’m coming over.”
“Thank you,” Ella said, and dissolved into tears.
***
Ella hadn’t been able to muster the energy to move from the bed. She waited for the door, clutching tissues and rubbing her throbbing head. She didn’t know how much time had passed when the buzzer sounded.
Still in her bathrobe she opened the door; Jackie stood on the other side.
“Oh, babe, tell me what happened.” Jackie took Ella into her arms and she fell apart again.
Ella explained everything. The call from Human Resources, the accusation, the fact that she didn’t know what had triggered it. The fact that she had no defence. She told her about the afternoon in the pub, the other girls, and even the plan for revenge. Jackie didn’t interrupt; she just listened as she always did.
“Hon, I don’t know what to say, I really don’t. I thought that was it. Once we’d got away with it initially, I thought there was no way it could come out. I think that girl, Clara, was right. Someone must have been behind this. But who and why?”
“I don’t know. Everything was going so well and the only thing upsetting me was Johnny. Do you think it could have been him?”
“How would he know? I mean, he would have had to go and find that information. It’s not like it’s common knowledge. Only you and I know. Maybe the company was updating files and they had to do checks on everyone or something. Maybe it was bad luck, after all.”
“I didn’t have the nerve to ask. It was humiliating enough. I guess I’m just being paranoid about Johnny – I mean we had a few run-ins, but I only knew him for a week and there’s no way he would do that. I guess my main fear was that it had something to do with Tony.”
“Ella, this has nothing to do with Tony. That’s one thing I know for sure. How could he have found you? He can’t. He might be dead. Christ, he’s haunting you so much I’d like to kill him myself.”
“I know it’s irrational. It could have been a routine check, as you said, but I can’t help feeling that now I’ve lost my job the rest of it is going to come out. What if Tony did die? I let Sammy get his friends to beat the hell out of him. I wouldn’t let him take the blame.”
“Ella, Sammy is not in trouble. He cashes the cheques you send him, doesn’t he? He wouldn’t if he was in prison. We’d know, you’d know, you’d feel it. Anyway, we’re letting all this run away with us. Darling, if Clara does find out that someone did this to you, then you go along with her plan. And please, for me, think about calling Sammy and putting Tony behind you once and for all. Promise?”
“It’s all too much, isn’t it? Jackie, how can I cope? I feel like I’ve made such a mess of my life and I don’t know if I’ll ever put it back together.”
“You will put it back together. But we start here. Go and see Clara and Virginia when you’re supposed to. It doesn’t matter that you don’t like them. This could be good for you, therapeutic, and God knows, you need it.”
They talked for hours until Ella started to calm down. Jackie made her some food, got her into the shower and got her dressed. As she prepared to drive to Kensington Ella realised that she was so lucky to have such a good friend.
***
Virginia woke up and found herself lying on the floor with her duvet wrapped around her. She felt awful; her head was thumping and her eyes were so sore she could hardly open them. She looked at the chair and saw her coat and bag. She remembered she had left her scooter in the City. Then she remembered why she had left it in the City.
The engulfing panic that followed left her short of breath and unable to move. She was physically wrecked. She knew she should be going to work now. She should be preparing to start her new job, not lying on the floor having a panic attack about the future. She dragged herself up and went to make tea.
Then she switched on the television and crawled back into bed with her cup. She thought about the girls she had met the previous night: Clara, who was confident and blonde and bossy, and Ella who was cold. She knew she didn’t really want to spend time with them. She also knew it was her only hope. She had nothing but the thought that maybe they would put Clara’s drunken ramblings about revenge into practice. That was the only thing she had left.
She wished she could speak to someone, but her parents wouldn’t understand. And Susie was miles away. All she had was the mad girl who had slept with her boss and her client, and the cold girl who had lied her way into the job. She felt she was the most innocent of them all, but she also felt that they were victims too. Of what she wasn’t sure. She thought that, whatever happened, they would be some sort of support for her. And she needed support. The only hope she had was of making Isabella pay. Although she believed in her heart that she would fail at that too.
Eventually she managed to shower and dress. She put on jeans and a jumper and took the tube to pick up her scooter. Seeing her parking space and knowing she would never come here brought back all the pain. She checked the route to South Kensington in her A—Z, and drove off to meet the others with a heart that felt like a ton of bricks.
***
Clara woke and felt sick. Then she was sick. She crawled into the kitchen and drank water from the fridge. She didn’t know what day it was until she remembered the black Thursday she had just been through. She checked her answer phone. There were no messages. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she was expecting something. She tried to banish the thought that what she had expected was a call from Tim saying, sorry, it had been a huge mistake, and offering her job back. She decided to pull herself together.
She showered and dressed quickly. She was on a mission. First she called one of her old boyfriends and asked him if he could get her some cocaine. He told her he’d deliver some in person that evening. She still had quite a lot left from Tim, but she wanted to ensure that she never ran out. She knew she needed it more than ever now as she celebrated the result of her first mission with her first line of the day. Then she tidied the flat – her cleaner wasn’t due in until the following week. She had strewn knickers all over the sitting room and there were remnants of cocaine on the coffee table, but the kitchen was clean – she never used it. She just shut the door of her bedroom.
Her next mission was to call her brother. Before she did that, she walked around her flat. It was in a lovely old building that had been a school or a hospital or something. It contained about fifty flats, but she didn’t know any of her neighbours. She had three bedrooms, two that she never used and hers. The sitting room was large with a dining-table, which again she never used. There was a long white hallway and two bathrooms, one en suite the other off the hall. She decided that although she hadn’t paid much attention to the flat in all the time she lived here, she liked it.
She couldn’t put off calling James. He handled the family’s account at SFH, and she had to give him some reason for no longer being there. She hoped t
hat no one at SFH felt they had to give him their side of the story. She decided that before she called James she would call the Human Resources bitch who fired her. This was damage limitation.
“Helen, it’s Clara Hart. Sorry I was so rude yesterday.”
Helena sprouted another grey hair. She didn’t have the energy to correct her name. “What can I do for you?”
“You know my family has an account with SFH? Well, it seems I shall have to go and work for them now I no longer have a job. Therefore, I want to make it clear that I will not rock the boat for SFH with them if you make sure that SFH doesn’t tell my family why I was sacked. In fact, I don’t want them to know I was sacked at all.” Clara sounded confident.
“I don’t see that as a problem.” Helena decided not to tell Clara that they had already decided to keep the reason for her dismissal quiet.
“Thanks.” Clara hung up.
Second mission accomplished. She felt a great sense of failure at having been sacked, but she believed she could cope with that as long as no one else knew about it. She dialled her brother’s number.
“James Hart, please.”
“May I say who’s calling?”
Clara hated his prissy secretary. “You may. It’s his sister.” She waited for a few seconds.
“Clara, hi.” James was always so nice it broke her heart.
“Jamie, listen, I’ve got something to tell you.”
“What? Are you all right?”
“Sure, I’m fine, but I quit my job.”
“You did what?”
Clara laughed falsely. “Jamie, I left work. I was having a hard time there – you know, everyone thinking I was a result of nepotism. I decided that instead of fighting it I’d take some time out to figure out what I really wanted to do with my life. I know I’ll never be the girl Daddy wants me to be, but I don’t think I’m cut out for the City either.” She hoped she wouldn’t be struck down for lying.
“Clara, are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, then, congratulations. You’re the proper grown-up, aren’t you? Making all these decisions. Dad will be pleased. He’ll probably think that now you aren’t working he can marry you off.”
“Yes, but you won’t let that happen, will you?”
“Not unless you want to be married off. Why don’t you come to my place for lunch tomorrow? We’ll celebrate.”
“I’ll be there at one.” Clara hung up and almost believed that everything had been her idea. Shit, if he ever finds out, I’ll be brotherless and friendless, she thought, as she picked up the telephone and moved on to mission three.
She was going to make Tim sorry. She might help Virginia make Isabelle pay. She wanted to know who had done the deed to Ella. She was only interested in the two girls because they were in the same position as she was, and she felt sorry for them as she felt sorry for herself. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what she could do next. Her plan would give her some breathing space.
There was only one person she could call on at SFH, Toby. She thought about calling Sarah, but Sarah would ask too many questions and she wouldn’t be as easy to manipulate as Toby. Clara needed information about Ella, and Toby would get it for her.
Toby answered the telephone. “SFH.”
Clara recognised his voice. “Toby, it’s Clara, but don’t let the others know.”
There was a pause.
“Cl-Clive, are you OK?”
“Clive? Couldn’t you come up with something better? Only joking. How are you?”
“I’m fine. What happened?”
“Oh, nothing much, I was busted, that’s all, and I deserve everything. Just watch Tim. He’s not a nice man.”
“He’s not? What about the e-mail you sent?”
“Sour grapes. Anyway, that’s not why I called. Can you do me a favour?” She put on her most appealing voice.
“Sure, what?”
“Well, I need to know what happened to Ella Franke.”
“The trader?”
No, Ella Franke the trapeze artist, Clara thought, but she didn’t say it. “Yes, Toby, Ella the trader. You see, she was fired and it transpired that she didn’t have a degree and she lied. I want to know who found out about it.”
“Yeah, it’s all over the office. No one knows why you went, although Tim has called a meeting of all of us this afternoon, but everyone’s gossiping about Ella.”
“Well, listen, go to her desk and find out who dropped her in it. Then call me back, my number is—”
“I have your home number,” Toby interrupted, and Clara wondered how he had it.
“Great. Can you do it quickly?”
“Sure, can I ask why?”
“No, you can’t.” Clara laughed again. “All will be revealed later. Toby, don’t tell anyone I called. Oh, and if you fancy a chat, call me after Tim’s meeting. How’s Alex?” Clara thought it might be useful for her, Ella and Virginia to have an unsuspecting mole in the office.
“OK, I won’t. And Alex is fine. We’re getting along really well.”
“Good. Thanks, Toby, you’re a real mate.” She put down the telephone and felt glad that Toby was with Alex. That meant she wouldn’t have to sleep with him.
Sex. That’s what it was. Clara had sex, Clara got into trouble. She had to try to cut down on the number of men she slept with. She had told herself this for a while, but now she really would try to do something about her sex addiction. Although now that she no longer had a job, she wasn’t sure that she needed to.
She went to the kitchen and grabbed three pieces of kitchen roll – her cleaner bought all sorts of things for her. She took them to the dining-table, grabbed an SFH biro and started writing. On one piece, she wrote “Tim Pemberton’, on the second, ‘Isabelle Holland’, and the third she kept blank. She knew that when the girls came she would be ready for them. She would do this to prove that she had more about her than her parents would ever dream. At first she had thought the idea of revenge was just her being drunk and over-enthusiastic, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. People shouldn’t be allowed to stamp on other people. It just wasn’t fair.
The telephone rang when Clara was still daydreaming about revenge.
“Clive, it’s Toby.”
“God, Toby, are you going to call me Clive every time you speak to me?”
“Probably. Anyway, I have the information you wanted.”
“I feel like I’m in a spy movie.” Clara giggled.
“Me too. I went to Ella’s desk and I asked Liam Rice what he knew. He was really angry and told me to mind my own fucking business. I told him I was concerned and I said I was sort of a friend of Ella’s. So he said he was sorry, but apparently everyone’s very upset about it. Anyway, he said that some new guy called Johnny had boasted the next day that he had discovered Ella’s secret and he was pleased with himself. Liam said they all hated Johnny, I don’t know his last name, and now they hated him even more. Liam seemed really worried about Ella. He said that if I spoke to her I should get her to call him. As if I’m ever going to speak to her! I barely knew who she was. Anyway, does that help?”
‘toby, you’re a miracle worker. Thanks. By the way, I know Ella and I’ll pass on Liam’s message, but remember, don’t mention it to anyone.”
“I won’t. I’ll call you after the meeting with Tim, OK?”
“Bye, Toby.”
Clara returned to the table and wrote ‘Johnny’ on the last piece of kitchen towel. She settled down to wait for the others to arrive.
***
Virginia arrived early at Clara’s flat. As she parked her scooter outside the magnificent building, she felt even more unsure of herself than she usually did. She looked up at it and was hit by the thought that this was the type of building she could have lived in one day if only she had the new job.
It was more intimidating inside. The doorman looked at her suspiciously, far more interested in keeping people out than the s
ecurity guards had been at SFH. She hit herself on the head as she realised that every thought she had brought her back to SFH. She took the lift to Clara’s floor, found her flat and rang the bell. She waited nervously for a few seconds until Clara opened the door. “I’m a bit early,” Virginia said, turning pink.
“I see you dressed up for the occasion,” Clara said, looking at her. Although Clara was wearing jeans and a shirt, she looked nice; Virginia looked like a teenager in her old-fashioned jeans and big, baggy jumper. She felt embarrassed as she followed Clara in. The sitting room was bigger than Virginia’s entire flat.
“Drink?” Clara asked.
“Water, please,” Virginia said, her mouth dry.
Clara disappeared and returned with a glass. ‘do you wear specs?” she asked.
“No. Why?”
“You just look as if you should.”
Clara sat at the dining-table and, not knowing what to say, Virginia sat on the sofa. Virginia wasn’t a great conversationalist at the best of times, but here, in this lovely flat with a girl who reminded her of the mean but popular girl at school, she felt out of her depth.
“Do you think Ella will turn up?” Clara asked, after a while.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Virginia had been so caught up wondering why she was here that the thought of Ella failing to materialise hadn’t occurred to her.
“Because she seemed so cold and empty. I just felt last night that she might not.”
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again and Ella appeared. She looked composed. She was wearing baggy grey trousers and a black cardigan.
“Hi,” Clara said, as she let her in.
Confronted by Ella’s height and her style, Virginia felt even more inadequate.
“Drink?” Clara asked. Ella shook her head.
“Fine. Down to business. I have news for you, Ella. I know who stitched you up.”
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