by S M Mala
‘About what?’ Piers asked and Finlay wondered if he knew about what went on. ‘Being a woman? A widow?’
‘Petite?’ smiled Toby, while letting out a little sigh. ‘I could put her in my pocket and carry her around all day.’
‘Then how would my business run,’ said Piers clearing his throat. ‘When she was here I told her that you two…’ The man glanced at Finlay and then his wife. ‘…knew I wasn’t the main person running the place. I wanted to show you I could do it but you know what? I think I have.’
‘How do you figure that one out, Piers?’ Finlay replied in a sarcastic manner sipping his scotch. ‘It seems you’ve not been totally honest.’
‘I’d like you to refrain from using that tone of voice with me, young man,’ he said and Finlay knew when he’d had a verbal slap. ‘I’ve been able to run the company by appointing someone who can. I think it’s called ‘micro-management’.’
‘That’s exactly what Sylvie said this morning,’ sighed Toby before chewing his steak slowly. ‘We have to manage all the areas we cover so there’s more control.’
‘Why do you think she has a chip on her shoulder?’ his mother asked, swallowing for a moment. ‘Do you think it’s about her colour?’
‘You don’t say colour, mother, you say black,’ Toby shrugged. ‘Is it because she’s black?’
‘She’s more Indian than black,’ his mother sighed and Finlay noticed she was looking quizzically at him. ‘The woman might have issues.’
‘Of course she has fucking issues!’ barked Piers and threw down his napkin. ‘She wasn’t exactly made to feel welcome by her husband’s family or friends.’ He flashed Alice a steely look and Finlay noticed his mother glanced away. ‘Here we are in modern Britain, trying to say that we, in London, are multi-cultural but hell we are! When her husband’s lot found out he was seeing her, they weren’t happy as he left some more suitable white upper class girl when he fell in love with Sylvie.’
‘Do we have to talk about this?’ Alice said sharply as Finlay realised there was more to this that involved his own flesh and blood. ‘It was years ago.’
‘Anyway, they got married and, effectively, his family cut all ties with him hoping it would sway his decision and he’d leave her. They didn’t take into account that they were deeply in love and he put her first. Then Daisy came along and they wanted a piece of her, but not Sylvie. Sylvie was fine about it. She knew Roo loved his family and wanted to keep the peace. When he died, the knives came out and they tried to ruin that woman by being spiteful and vindictive. You’d be pleased to know your mother was one of the group!’
‘Piers!’ Alice shouted standing up. ‘And have you let me forget it? You spitefully employed her knowing how much trouble and hurt it would cause.’
‘But my darling,’ he said in a low stern voice. ‘You never told anyone about my business, not even your own flesh and blood. I doubt you’ve said anything to her mother in law, have you?’
Finlay watched his mother walk out of the dining room and run up the stairs. He didn’t know what to do as he wasn’t aware how closely Sylvie was interweaved with his mother and Piers.
‘Fascists!’ grumbled Toby, reaching for the bottle of wine and pouring it into a water tumbler. ‘Which is what she called you yesterday, if you want to know?’
‘Me?’ Finlay said with alarm.
‘And what she said about you on Monday was priceless,’ laughed his brother. ‘And she was worried about you, you know, when you were in an odd mood.’
‘Don’t shit stir Tobius,’ said Piers standing up. ‘Excuse me, I better go see to your mother.’
They waited for him to walk out and Finlay watched Toby stuff his face before pushing his own food around on the plate.
‘I upset her with my honesty, maybe too honest,’ Finlay said waiting to see what Toby’s reaction would be. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Look bro, you’re having trouble with Julie Lefuck. We know it, you know it. Instead of trying to upset someone else why don’t you go home and sort it out? Our business has got fourteen months and I know Sylvie won’t let you close it down, she’ll find a way to stop you and she’s stubborn.’ Toby hesitated for a moment before glancing sideways. ‘What did you do to her? I know you did something.’
‘I tried to change things and it didn’t work out,’ he said honestly. ‘And it might have been a little too soon, I don’t know. I saw Sylvie today and she was so fucking rude. I was with Krista, I bumped into her at the station and Sylvie made out she was my cleaner…’ Finlay let out a little sigh. ‘Pretty insulting really.’
‘And you’d never insult anyone with your honesty, would you Finlay?’
Twenty nine
‘Thank you,’ Sylvie said as she sat with her daughter in Pizza Express on Sunday and the waitress took the menus away after they’d ordered.
Glancing out of the window, she noticed the Christmas decorations in the windows as well as the restaurants and sighed in excitement before looking at her daughter’s glum face.
Daisy was upset as a girl in her class, who she thought was a friend, was having a birthday party and she hadn’t been invited. Sylvie was weighing up whether it was her time to tell her child the truth about people and their foibles considering her incident with Finlay.
The sad little face was killing her.
‘Look Daisy boo,’ she said gently taking her hand. ‘People change and sometimes they don’t act in a nice way. Personally, I don’t like Eliza or her mother.’
Peering into her daughter’s face she knew that wasn’t a good enough reason.
‘I thought she was my friend but recently she hasn’t been nice,’ Daisy replied, a little tearfully. ‘A few of the other girls don’t invite me round for play dates and I don’t know what I’ve done.’
Sylvie’s large glass of rose wine turned up as well as her daughter’s diet coke which she thought, given the circumstances, the child deserved. Taking a large sip she mulled it over and thought she had no choice.
‘Remember when we lived in the big house?’ she asked as her child nodded. ‘Everyone would invite you to everything as well as mummy and daddy. When daddy died and we had to move, I realised we weren’t being invited to as many things and these people, who were so friendly with us when you started school, well, it didn’t look good that we had downsized to a three bedroom maisonette in a council owned building.’
Sylvie knew she had to be careful what she said and realised Daisy was looking wide eyed at her.
‘Thing is Daisy, these girls who don’t ask you to come round, well it’s because their parents are WMCs, which I like to call WCs.’ She sat up straight. ‘Your father was a wonderful man, he wasn’t a snob or prejudiced of who people were or where you came from. That’s why I loved him but other people haven’t been gifted with that intelligence, therefore don’t pass it down to their children.’
‘It’s because I’m not white is it? I wish I were then-.’
‘No darling,’ she said reaching to touch her face. ‘Don’t wish for something that would change who you are. Mummy and daddy made you with love and never wish to be something that you can’t be. There are other people in the world who will love and like you for the way you are. Ignore Eliza and Freya who-.’
‘I had a nana Freya didn’t I?’
Sylvie sat perfectly still for a moment as it was something that had never been discussed in recent years. Another glug of wine and she smiled.
‘You did but she’s the reason we had to move and I’ll never forgive her when, I was not in a good place and you were only little, she wanted to be cruel. That’s why she’s not allowed to contact us as I don’t trust her.’ She let out a sigh. ‘Anyway, grandma’s enough to handle.’
‘When I have a party I won’t invite those girls!’
‘When you have a party at the end of March you won’t even remember their names!’ she said brightly. ‘But if they pick on you, tell me, and I’ll go kick their mothers.’
‘Mummy!’ her daughter said looking at her as if she was being naughty.
‘You’re my child and I’ll protect you. That’s my job.’
Sylvie leaned forward and stroked her daughter’s beautiful face for a second.
‘I love you mummy.’
‘I love you too,’ she said and sat back, taking another large sip of her wine.
‘What does ‘WMCs’ stand for?’ her daughter asked while colouring in one of the pictures on the leaflet she’d be handed.
‘White middle classes,’ she sighed and thought of Finlay. ‘But I call them ‘WCs’ because they’re full of shit.’
‘Mummy!’ Daisy said looking alarmed. ‘That’s a rude word!’
‘Well they are shits and it’s as simple as that!’
As she sat sipping a cup of tea after Daisy had gone to bed, she looked through her emails and updated the website with the new products.
Then she saw an email from Finlay and dreaded opening it.
Sylvie knew she was in a silent turmoil with the man as she felt used and mostly insulted by his revelation. She’d spent most of the weekend trying to forget he ever existed but smiled at her cleaner comment before remembering her tears.
She opened the message
‘Sylvie, we need to talk about the new micro management for the ‘Good Vibration’ as I have a few questions. I’ve noted the new products being uploaded on the website, which need to be briefed to the others. I booked the meeting room for 9.30 so the team can discuss. Finlay.’
Looking at her calendar she realised it was 25th November and one month until Christmas knowing that was the countdown until he left the company. Then she could get on with doing her job without any distractions or him.
She sent a quick email to Marianne to prepare the products for the following day, laughing as she did it.
Smiling when she saw the Christmas decorations, which had even been wrapped around the storage shelves, Sylvie walked up to her office and then stopped when she realised what had changed over the weekend.
The one large and one small desk were now two small desks and put together at a right angle so you weren’t exactly facing each other but could look out onto the warehouse. All the cabinets had been shifted and there was a very large whiteboard on the wall.
‘Isn’t it great!’ enthused Stephen as he rushed out of his office.
‘Who did this?’ she asked quietly.
‘Finlay!’
Sylvie noticed Stephen gave her the once over as she was wearing a leather jacket and a black polo neck jumper. She decided to ignore his eager glare.
‘And have a look where the girls sit,’ he said following her.
Slowly she walked down the corridor and there were four desks where there had been three and as she glanced over to where Della sat, she’d been given the larger desk but she was now facing the customer service people instead of her office.
‘Are you alright about this?’ Sylvie asked as the women nodded and Della frowned at her for a moment. ‘I had no idea this was going to happen.’
‘We should have been consulted!’ Della snapped.
‘I should have been consulted,’ Sylvie replied diplomatically. ‘I think someone is making a point they’re in charge.’
Then she walked to Toby’s office and gasped when she saw he’d moved things around to make more room and placed a blind which would give light to the room, instead of the broken one they had before.
She realised it was time for the meeting.
Sylvie went back to her office and sat at the desk, which she could only presume was hers and noticed that the drawers were open. She looked in the top drawer and found a note on the wallet she kept the key cards to the hotel.
‘I have one and you have the other. F.’ he’d scrawled.
Sylvie scrunched it up and put it in the bin before walking to the meeting room with her laptop. She was shocked to see everyone was there, chatting away, as she was the last one to arrive.
‘Sylvie!’ Toby said cheerfully as she smiled and noticed there was an empty chair at the top of the table.
From her peripheral vision, she was aware Finlay was sitting at the opposite end as she took her seat and noticed a piece of paper, outlining the agenda. Then she looked up to see him dressed immaculately in a navy suit with a white shirt, open at the neck. He was looking down at his tablet and typing something in.
‘I’ll begin,’ said Stephen. ‘From the-.’
‘Actually Stephen,’ Finlay said quietly. ‘I’ll lead the meeting as I am, effectively, in charge.’
‘I see,’ was the reply and Sylvie could tell Stephen was put out and turned to her. ‘I usually do the order of the meeting and-.’
‘In the time I’ve been here, there has never really been an order and usually they end in someone getting annoyed or general disarray,’ he said politely and Sylvie glanced up at him to see he was staring right her.
She darted her eyes down feeling something twist in her gut.
‘You think we not smart enough?’ said Samina shaking her head. ‘We need you in your designer suit to tell us how to have meeting?’
‘I think you’re all more than perfectly smart but we have a lot to go through, so if you don’t mind.’
‘I do!’
‘Let’s just get on with it,’ sighed Marianne as she put her hand on the box of products.
‘Then let’s start with the new items first then we can just go down the list,’ he said cheerfully and Sylvie looked around the room at all the faces before waiting to see what Finlay was up to.
Each item that came out of the box was black.
The g spot stimulators, vibrators, eggs, ten tongue female stimuli… everything that came in that colour was put out on the table.
Marianne went through each product thoroughly and explained what it could do while Della had looked into the reviews given on other sites. Sylvie refrained from looking at the items as they were passed around as she checked that they had been added to the website.
‘Why black?’ asked Samina as she handled the ten tongue toy before turning it on and getting a mild shock at the speed. ‘It Christmas, so should be other colour.’
‘There are other colours but Sylvie asked me to make sure all the items were this colour,’ replied Marianne, as Sylvie smiled to herself then closed her eyes for a moment. ‘The blacker the better, that’s what the lady said.’
‘I thought Finlay might appreciate it,’ she said when the penis stimulator with pink insides and a black outside was put in front of her. ‘Here, take a look at this!’
Quickly she slid it down the table towards Finlay, who put his hand out to stop it before looking at her, without any expression.
‘Oh, look at this big thing!’ exclaimed Samina as she held up a very large black dildo. ‘I not get my mouth around that unless I take out denture!’
Sylvie rolled up the neck of her polar neck to cover half her face as she sunk into the chair and tried not to laugh.
Knowing no one knew about what he’d said to Sylvie, Finlay realised this was her way of making a point as one by one, the sex toys and accessories where passed around. Even the lingerie was black and he held up the vibrating knickers with a small cock attachment before passing it to Stephen.
Her face was hidden by her jumper and he knew she was laughing, but he took it in good humour as they quickly went down the list until it came to the restructure.
‘Why restructure?’ asked Stephen, looking blankly at the sheet.
‘I mentioned micro-management last week but no one seemed to be listening,’ she said rolling down the neck of her jumper and sitting up straight.
Finlay stared at her for a moment and thought she looked beautiful, with her hair away from her sculptured face before seeing Stephen was thinking similar things.
‘You look different Sylvie,’ said Samina leaning forward. ‘You Botox? I Botox.’ The woman lifted her eyebrows and there were minimal amount of lines. ‘But my friend say
when you have stroke, the same.’
‘I want to make sure we have little groups of people working together, making sure everything runs smoothly instead of coming to me or Piers.’ She looked around the room and he noticed she didn’t acknowledge him. ‘That way in the next thirteen months we can achieve something really good.’
‘What’s the plan?’ Finlay asked, vying for her attention.
‘I showed it to you a few weeks back but I think you might have had other darker things on your mind.’
‘Depressed Finlay? I should have got you hose to insulate in car. I have happy tablets I take!’ announced Samina. ‘I give you all at Christmas party.’
‘You can’t employ any more people at the moment,’ he said watching Sylvie’s mouth drop open. ‘I think we can work with what you’ve got.’
‘And what is that?’ she said and he noticed her defiant expression. ‘I can’t do longer hours in the office as my child comes first. I’ve already sacrificed precious hours of my time for the sake of the company without getting paid.’
‘You know what, you do look different,’ said Gillian and Finlay thought so too. ‘What’ve you done?’
‘Dyed my roots, had a facial, took a very unimpressive twenty seconds to change eighteen years of my life… I don’t know,’ she said and then flashed Finlay an evil glare. He knew she was talking about having sex with him and accepted the very deep and painful dig. ‘Whatever it was isn’t really important but thank you for your compliments as I will look like shit tomorrow.’
‘Can we go back to this restructure?’ asked Stephen before glancing at Finlay.
‘To be fair to Sylvie, I-.’
‘You’re being fair to me? That’s nice,’ she sarcastically said. ‘That’ll be a first Finlay Chambers.’
Taking a deep breath, he looked at her as she smiled, that fake one he received for the weeks he started. That hurt him.
‘You two quarrel?’ asked Samina looking at the pair of them. ‘I thought you friends.’