I laugh. ‘No, it’s just a saying.’
Mum wants me to stay for tea but I make an excuse and go home for doggy-bag pizza in front of the telly.
Later, I get restless and find myself going online for something to do. And of course I end up on Charlie’s website, drooling over the Barcelona hotel, torturing myself by wondering if he really meant it when he said he’d take me there. Not that it matters now, because thanks to my stupid inability to take action, he probably never wants to see me again. I doubt I devastated him the way Miranda did. But I could tell he was hurt.
Idly, I click on eBay as a distraction and find myself searching for ‘Ronald McDonald’. I’ve no idea what I was hoping to find. A life-size model of Charlie, perhaps? But up pops a funny little plastic clown with that famous red smile, waving gaily from a blue speedboat.
It’s so naff and cheesey, it makes me laugh out loud. And immediately, I think, Charlie would love that. So before I know it, I’m getting out my debit card and parting with real money.
And then I think, how stupid! Because when will I ever have the chance to give it to him?
The next day, Sunday, is a bit of a non-event. I get up late and try phoning Carol but it goes straight to answer machine. So I dive into the housework for a few frenzied hours before deciding that it is time to turn out my wardrobe and all my drawers. By six o’clock, when I finally collapse in a heap on the sofa with a boiled egg and toast, there are three black bin bags waiting by the door for the local charity shop.
And then, of course, it’s Monday morning.
I get ready at the usual time.
But somehow, things feel different.
It’s as if there’s change in the air.
As I rushed around yesterday polishing wood and hoovering floors, the thought of resigning lodged itself in my head again, and I tossed it around and examined it from all angles while I worked.
Perhaps today is the day I do it, instead of just thinking about it. But I’m not going to psyche myself up like last time. I’m just going to see what happens. Follow my instinct.
I’ve got butterflies walking to work, though.
‘The Boss wants to see you,’ says Shona the minute I walk in.
‘When?’
‘Now.’ She nods at Carol’s door and my heart sinks.
I’d been hoping to get at least one coffee in my system before any sort of confrontation. Maybe I’ll just wait a while …
‘So … ’ I sit on the edge of Shona’s desk and look at her expectantly. ‘You and Fez.’
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ She smiles shyly, a blush creeping into her cheeks. ‘I was worried … ’
I beam at her. ‘Do I look as if I mind? I think you make a great couple. But when did it happen?’
‘When we were working on the DVD together.’ Her relief at my reaction is evident. ‘He’s lovely, isn’t he?’
‘The best. And hey, congratulations on taking the bull by the horns and handing over the real accounts to Charlie.’
She makes a nervous face. ‘Did you know what Carol was up to?’
‘I found out a few days ago. I was going to tell Charlie but you got in ahead of me. But how did you find out?’
She smiles. ‘I told you I thought Gerry Flack was acting weirdly – so I opened the envelope when he’d gone and realised he’d fabricated a whole set of accounts. So then I put two and two together.’
‘I’m impressed.’ I grin. ‘But how did you know they were made up?’
She gives me a look that says, ‘do you think I was born yesterday?’ Then she taps the side of her nose. ‘It’s a secretary’s job to know everything that goes on. So naturally, I make it my business to keep an eye on the real accounts.’
‘You saw them?’ I laugh.
‘Of course. I already knew the company was in dire straits. And that’s why I knew Gerry’s accounts were a load of horseshit.’
I nod my head approvingly. Then I glance at Carol’s door. ‘What sort of mood is she in?’
‘Well, quite buoyant, actually.’ Shona looks surprised. ‘I thought she’d bawl me out the minute I arrived but she’s been nice as pie.’
I smile ruefully. ‘That’s because she thinks it was me who tipped off Charlie, not you.’
‘Oh.’ She jumps up in alarm. ‘In that case, I’d better go in and confess.’
‘No, don’t.’ I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s of no consequence who told Charlie. The only thing that matters is that he knows the truth now.’
‘Much to her annoyance, no doubt.’
Right on cue, The Boss shouts through. ‘Bobbie? Is that you?’
I grimace at Shona. ‘Wish me luck.’
She’s got a tense smile on her face when I walk in.
‘How are you?’ I have to ask. She looks washed out. We can’t just pretend the party never happened.
‘Never better.’ Her confident tone belies the shadows under her eyes. She draws a breath. ‘We didn’t get the cleaning contract but it doesn’t matter. We’re going full steam ahead with the expansion of the business.’
‘Oh, wow. That’s – erm – great.’
I stare at her as she rubs her hands briskly together then reaches for her fags.
I’m not surprised we didn’t win the contract. But I can’t believe she still thinks she can save the business. What on earth is she going to do for cash without Charlie’s investment?
‘You don’t look convinced,’ she says tartly. ‘But I assure you, we’re going to do it.’
‘But how?’ There’s no point pretending. ‘The company’s in a dreadful state.’
‘That may be so.’ She lights up and takes a long drag. ‘But I have a very valuable secret weapon up my sleeve.’
Chapter Forty
Oh God, a secret weapon? Maybe she plans to hold Charlie up and demand the readies at gunpoint?
She seems jumpy and her eyes are darting about.
She draws again on her fag and blows out to the side. ‘I’m not going to be building the company alone.’
‘Oh. Have you got a new business partner?’
‘Well, sort of.’ She gives a slightly hysterical laugh. ‘No, the secret weapon that will get us firmly back on the road to success is – you!’
‘Sorry?’
‘You heard me.’ She gets up and starts pacing about. ‘You’re an invaluable part of the team, Bobbie. You have a range of skills that are second to none. You see things.’ She’s flinging her arms round jerkily for emphasis. ‘I really need your input.’
She sits back down and leans towards me, a feverish look in her eyes. ‘Together we can make this business soar!’
I stare at her uneasily. Is she on drugs?
To be honest, I’d probably rather she bawled me out then sacked me on the spot. That’s certainly what I was expecting. But this … this is bewildering, to say the least.
‘So what do you say?’ she demands. ‘Shall we let bygones be bygones and work together to make this business a success?’ She’s doing the arm-flinging thing again. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Bobbie. We’ve wasted far too much time bickering about the past, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s where all the unpleasantness should stay. In the past.’
She draws on her ciggy, closing her eyes briefly at the nicotine hit, then blows out sharply. ‘Decorating that Christmas tree with you made me remember the good times. And there were an awful lot of those.’
‘True.’ I’ll give her that.
‘And I realised how stupidly selfish I’ve been, wallowing in my own problems and not even thinking about how you were suffering, too. Having to go back to your Mum’s, penniless, and with Tim such a worry.’
I shrug. ‘It was pretty awful. But I’m hardly blameless. I should have been there for you when Beau left. I really regret that now.’
She reaches over and presses my hand. ‘You can be there for me now.’
‘Well, I don’t know.’ I take a deep breath and blow it out. ‘I mean, I’m not sure if
it will actually be possible to turn the business around. Aren’t we a bit too late? There’s no money to expand.’
Briskly, she shakes her head. ‘I’ve got it all worked out. I’m going to remortgage the flat, which will release the funds we need to get on our feet again.’
‘But is that wise?’ I know I’m playing devil’s advocate here but I’m really not sure she’s thought this through logically. ‘What if the business still goes down the pan? Then you’d be even worse off, with a mortgage round your neck.’
She shakes her head firmly. ‘But it won’t fail. Not if we pull together and pool our resources. And keep a constant eye on the bottom line.’ She gives a wistful smile. ‘You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Bobbie. You know we always made a good team. It has to be worth a shot.’
I shrug. ‘Well, maybe.’
She sounds genuinely eager to enlist my support and put the past behind us. Perhaps everything that’s happened over the past month has made her realise what’s important. Maybe Mrs Cadwalader was right and our friendship can be revived. As Carol says, I suppose it has to be worth a shot.
‘Okay.’ I’m still very dubious but I’m willing to listen. It’s funny. Even after all that’s happened, I still find it ridiculously hard to let Carol down. ‘Maybe it is worth a try.’
The idea of us working together, as more of a partnership, is what’s changing my mind. It sounds as if the old regime of boss ruling the roost and humble employee tugging her forelock could possibly be a thing of the past. And that I can definitely work with.
She beams at me. ‘Fantastic! Great decision. You won’t regret it.’
I smile uneasily. ‘Of course, it won’t be plain sailing. There’ll have to be lots of changes round here.’
She shrugs a little guardedly. ‘Of course.’
‘First, we’ll need to look at our margins and make sure we’re not giving away too many costly discounts. Because that was always our weakness.’
She nods.
‘And then we’d have to look at our client list and think about offering them additional services. Window cleaning, power-washing driveways, that sort of thing.’
I glance at her untidy desk, thinking as I’m talking. ‘We could offer a de-cluttering service. You know: Want more space? We can help you find it! That sort of thing.’
I’m feeling quite energised. Perhaps, if we put our minds to it together, we really could turn everything around.
‘And then we’ll need to think about cost-cutting strategies.’ I spin round as I talk, and pluck a pen from the coffee table.
‘What are you doing?’ Carol asks.
‘Getting a biro. I think we should start making notes.’
Frowning, she leans over and prises the pen from my fingers. ‘I give out the stationary. You don’t just help yourself.’
‘Christ, okay.’
I stare at her in disbelief. ‘Can I borrow yours, then?’
Calmly, she hands over her pen.
But now, of course, I’ve completely lost my train of thought. I cast around the office for inspiration.
‘Er – where was I?’
‘Cost-cutting strategies.’ She says it coolly as if she’s not one hundred per cent behind the idea.
‘Oh, yes. So when we get rid of Gerry Flack, perhaps I could take a course in book-keeping? There are modules starting at the college in January. I’ve seen Fez’s brochure. And I’d be more than happy to do it and take over the accounts myself, just for the short-term, obviously, while the company’s getting back on—’
‘Er, stop right there!’
I look over in confusion.
Carol is staring at me as if I’ve lost my senses. ‘What the hell makes you think I’m getting rid of Gerry?’
Perplexed, I study her for a second, wondering if I’m missing something.
‘Um – because he’s a crook?’
‘Yes, well, he’s also very clever,’ she snaps.
‘Very cunning, you mean.’
‘Let’s get something straight.’ She rounds on me. ‘This is my company. I decide who stays and who goes. And you’d do very well to remember that, Bobbie.’
I almost laugh.
Her tone is razor sharp, designed to cut me down to size.
No change there, then.
And that’s when I realise.
She doesn’t want my help. Not really. All this we’re such a good team and you have a range of skills second to none and you’re the best friend I ever had is just a ruse to get me to stay. She must have thought I was going to turn up here today and resign – desert the sinking ship – which was quite prescient of her, really, considering that’s exactly what I was thinking of doing.
Emotion wells up inside me. After all we’ve been through, Carol and me, we’re still quibbling over a pen. It’s time to face facts. Things will never be any different as long as Carol is my boss.
There’s a huge boulder of sadness inside me.
It’s like when you make a snowball and it starts off small but then you roll it in the snow and it keeps getting bigger and heavier. This solid mass of accumulated grief surges up, pushing its way into my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
The pressure of it is overwhelming and hot tears of panic spring up.
It’s suddenly all too much.
Missing my Dad. Losing my best friend. Worry over Tim. Knowing I’ve alienated Charlie and will probably never see him again …
I arrange my face into a tight smile. ‘You know what, Carol? You can stuff your job. I resign.’
I place the pen pointedly on the desk in front of her and head for the door. Then I collect an empty box, take it to my desk and start calmly packing away the contents of my drawer, my mug, my bottle of water.
Shona stares at me in alarm. ‘What are you doing? Oh God, has she fired you?’
Feeling oddly calm, I shake my head and place the sweetie tin Tim gave me for paperclips in the cardboard box.
She scrapes back her chair. ‘I’m going to tell her it was me, not you. It’s not fair if she’s letting you go because she thinks you ratted on her.’
‘Shona, don’t,’ I say, alarmed. ‘She didn’t fire me. I resigned.’
But she’s not listening. ‘I really don’t care if she fires me.’ She stands up, preparing for battle. ‘Fez wants me to work for him anyway and—’ She stops abruptly and looks at me. ‘What did you say?’
I shrug and add my foil-wrapped sandwiches to the box. ‘I quit. But don’t worry. I feel fine.’
At that moment, Carol emerges.
‘Bobbie.’ Her expression is conciliatory, chummy even. ‘Come on. Let’s talk about it. There’s no point doing something rash which you later regret, now, is there?’
The condescension in her tone makes me bristle. But I’m determined not to show it.
‘I’m not being rash. It’s been on my mind for a while.’ I am coolness personified. She will not get to me. I will leave in a very graceful and adult fashion. ‘I simply can’t work for you any more.’
‘But why not?’ She looks aghast. ‘I thought we were in this together. You said you’d help me get the business back on track and make it a bright future for everyone.’ She extends her arms to Shona and Ella then looks at me with wide-eyed innocence. ‘You wouldn’t want to let people down, would you, Bobbie?’
It’s a cheap shot. Even for her.
‘I won’t bow to your emotional blackmail. Or any of your other cold-blooded tricks.’ I close the lid on my box and tap it efficiently. ‘And by the way, if you study the figures – the real figures, mind you – it will become clear to you that the business never was on track. If you had any sense at all, you’d tell your father to take a running jump and stop trying to rule your life.’
Mention of her father makes her chin wobble slightly.
But she pulls herself together and looks at me stonily. ‘And what about Tim? With no money coming in, I guess the poor little lad can wave cheerio to that operation he n
eeds. Isn’t that a little selfish of you?’
No! I will not let her get to me!
I swallow hard. ‘You might well think that, Carol. But I couldn’t possibly comment.’ I shrug on my coat, pick up my box and head for the door.
Almost there! My heart is pounding so fast I’m scared I might be having a panic attack. I’ve never had one before. But then, I’ve never felt this level of stomach-curdling anxiety before, either.
‘Now wait just a minute, Bobbie!’ A note of hysteria is creeping in. ‘You can’t simply walk out like this. You need to work your notice to give me time to find a replacement. After all I’ve done for you, you owe me that at least.’
I stop dead.
Swinging round, I almost drop the box. ‘After all you’ve done for me?’ I stare at her incredulously. ‘After all you’ve done for me!’
Slowly, I shake my head. ‘Someone once told me you were a sad, sad person. And you know what? She was absolutely right.’
Carol’s eyes glint with suspicion. ‘Who said — ?’
‘Doesn’t matter. You’re sad and your life sucks. You should do something about it before it’s too late.’
‘Ha! Talk about the kettle calling the pot black.’ Her face is red and contorted with anger.
‘It’s pot calling the kettle, actually,’ I point out smoothly. ‘And yes, I suppose you’re right, I was chicken. Until today, when I finally realised that working for you has sucked every bit of hope and life out of me.’
‘It wasn’t exactly a bundle of fun for me, either,’ she barks.
‘And whose fault is that?’ I glance around at everyone. ‘Right, I’m off.’
I’m all set to sweep out on a wave of triumph but as I reach the door, she tries one last bully-boy tactic.
‘I’ll sue you for breach of contract.’
The malevolence in her tone makes something snap inside me.
I turn to face her. ‘Really? You would do that to someone who was once your best friend? Gosh, you’re sadder than I thought.’
My legs feel like jelly. But suddenly, I decide I’m not just going to walk out of there meekly, allowing her nasty threat to hang in the air.
I take a deep breath. ‘Well, I suppose I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb and all that. So … ’
Humbugs and Heartstrings Page 28