by Ber Carroll
The two-storey house was identical to all the others in the street: white dashed walls and a bay window that jutted into a small concrete front yard. Andrew, carrying a suitcase in each hand, ascended the narrow staircase in the hallway and entered the first doorway on the landing. The square wallpapered room was not quite big enough for the double bed that was pushed up against the window.
‘Was this your bedroom?’ Jodi took in the old-fashioned floral bedcover and the gilded doorknobs on the white wardrobe.
‘No.’ He lifted one of the suitcases onto the bed. ‘I’ve never lived in this house. I moved out of home when I was eighteen. Mum married Simon the following year.’
‘Do you get along with Simon?’ Jodi asked, wondering why she hadn’t thought to question Andrew closer about his family before moving in with them. She’d known that his real father had died when he was ten, and that he’d acquired a stepfather and stepsister when his mother remarried. That was the sum of her knowledge until now.
‘Oh, Simon’s okay – a bit miserable, but okay.’
He propped the second suitcase up against the wardrobe and there was hardly standing space in the room. Feeling claustrophobic, Jodi crawled across the bed to reach the window. She opened it wide and a blast of cold air stung her face. On the street below she saw children with woollen hats and bulky jackets. Their faces looked pinched and bored as they kicked at yesterday’s puddles of rain. Jodi turned away from the window feeling rather despondent. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago she’d swum under a dazzling sun and run across piping-hot sand to come twelfth place in the Ironwoman Series.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Andrew reassuringly. ‘You’ll feel different when we get our own place nearer the city. You’re going to like London, I know it.’
Janice and Simon worked demanding jobs and were out of the house for the greater part of the day. In the mornings they ate a hurried breakfast before heading off in their mud-splattered ten-year-old BMW. Simon dropped Janice at the tube station before continuing on to his own job which was located further out of town.
Tracey, a science student who seemed to have very few classes, had a more relaxed schedule. She ate cereal, not just for breakfast, but for lunch and dinner too. She watched a lot of TV and muttered monosyllabic replies whenever Jodi tried to make conversation.
Every day Jodi and Andrew went to the local library to sift through the work advertisements in the daily newspapers. They used the library’s copying machine and computer to complete their job applications. Then they would read through the ads for rental accommodation and daydream about living together on their own.
After two weeks, Andrew was called for an interview in the city. Jodi went with him for moral support. It was a forty-minute ride on the tube, initially on an overground track. The stations they passed through had large billboards saying things like: We’re now on the internet, you can make your application online or, Visit our new website to see a full range of products and services.
‘The internet boom seems a lot more prominent here than it was in Sydney,’ Jodi commented.
‘Maybe that means there’s a strong job market,’ Andrew replied, his thoughts on his upcoming interview.
The tube went underground as it neared the city centre. It whizzed through black tunnels, Jodi staring unseeingly out of the window. She was nervous for Andrew. They were both desperate to move out of his mother’s house and into their own place. Hopefully he would get the job and they would have the means.
They changed trains at Oxford Circus and had a short ride to Cannon Street Station, where they finally disembarked. The escalator up to the street went on forever; it seemed as though they were emerging from the very depths of the earth. The sky threatened rain as they walked through the inner square mile, where all the prominent banks and blue-chip companies had their offices.
‘Good luck.’ Jodi pecked a kiss on his mouth when they got to their destination. She straightened his tie and pointed to a café across the road. ‘I’ll wait in there.’
Inside the café, she unwound her scarf and sat at a table next to the window. There was only one other customer, a man in a suit who looked as if he’d just received some bad news. The waitress, however, had a friendly face.
‘Where’s that accent from?’ she enquired as she took Jodi’s coffee order.
‘Australia.’
‘Ohhhh, how I would love some sun right now!’
The waitress had caramello skin and dark exotic eyes. She chatted for a while, until a male voice called from the kitchen, ‘Seeta!’
‘My father,’ Seeta explained, throwing her eyes to heaven. ‘He doesn’t like me fraternising with the clientele.’
When she’d gone, Jodi thought that her friendliness made a pleasant change from Andrew’s family. Now that she was alone for the first time in two weeks, she had time to gather her thoughts. They weren’t positive.
It’s so bleak here, she thought, looking out at the heavy sky. Maybe that’s why his family don’t laugh or seem to enjoy life.
A feeling that had been nagging her since the day she arrived reared its head high enough for her to be able to put a name to it: homesickness. She missed her mother, who still managed to smile despite the unlucky hand she’d been dealt in life. And she missed Grandma, her toughness, her softness, her wheezy cackle, and the walking stick that was practically part of her anatomy.
Seeta came along with the coffee and another friendly but brief chat. Jodi cupped the mug with her hands. Trying to feel warm. About London.
If neither of us gets a job, then we’ll have to go back to Sydney.
An hour later she saw Andrew striding across the street. She could tell from the grin splitting his face that the job was in the bag. That they would be staying in this cold intimidating city.
Andrew’s letter of offer came in the post three days later. On the promise of an upcoming pay packet, he promptly borrowed six hundred pounds from his mother for the bond on a maisonette in West London. The maisonette had a kitchen and living area downstairs, and a large bedroom and bathroom upstairs. The carpets were dark green, not a colour that Jodi would have chosen, but they were brightened by the fresh white paint on the walls.
‘There’s so much space!’ Jodi exclaimed excitedly as she ran from room to room.
She stopped in her tracks, suddenly realising why the rooms seemed so vast. ‘We have no furniture!’
Andrew laughed, amused that the obvious had only just occurred to her. ‘We need to get some money in the bank first.’
‘What’ll we sleep on?’
‘A mattress, I suppose. We should be able to pick up a secondhand one.’
Jodi giggled. ‘We’ll be like squatters.’
‘Well,’ he gave her a suggestive look, ‘I must admit that I find the idea of squatting with you rather sexy.’
They moved in and Andrew started work. Jodi went for a few interviews but the jobs weren’t what she wanted. She had no desire to get another beefed-up administration job. She wanted something that would catapult her into a real career.
Two of the interviews turned into job offers, which she declined.
‘Do you think I’m being too picky?’ she asked Andrew.
‘No. Hold out another while – everyone is saying the market’s hot. Sooner or later someone will be desperate enough to overlook your inexperience.’
She smacked his arm. ‘Desperate? Thanks very much!’
He grinned lopsidedly. ‘You know what I mean.’
She pointed her finger. ‘You watch out, Andrew Ferguson. Soon I’ll be bringing in the big bucks and I’ll be wearing the pants around here.’
He leered. ‘To be honest, I like it best when you wear no pants at all.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You’ve got a one-track mind.’
Andrew was right. In the end someone did get desperate and Jodi got a phone call.
‘One of our temps has gone AWOL.’ The agent at the end of the line sounded stressed. �
�We need someone to go in straight away or we’ll lose the account.’
‘What’s the role?’ Jodi asked.
‘Business analyst,’ was the harried reply, ‘with unit pricing and reconciliation experience.’
Jodi’s experience of unit pricing was limited to the questions she’d asked Andrew when they first met. She bit her lip while she contemplated the risk of putting herself forward for a role for which she had absolutely no experience.
She made her decision. ‘Where do I need to go?’
‘Liverpool Street. And as soon as you can. We’ll pick up the taxi fare.’
The agent stayed on the line to give some further details. As soon as she hung up, Jodi raced upstairs to change into a suit. At last she was going to be part of London’s work force. She would commute in a packed train, maybe buying an overpriced coffee to kick-start the day. She’d have deliverables and deadlines, a new boss and colleagues. And maybe, just maybe, she might see a more appealing side to this great big city.
Invesco had their offices in an old-style redbrick building. The lift was slow and creaky; it sounded like it needed maintenance. Jodi took a steadying breath when it finally shuddered to a stop at the fifth floor.
‘I’m from ABC Recruitment,’ she introduced herself to the receptionist. ‘Jodi Tyler.’
The receptionist nodded and punched some buttons on her telephone system. ‘She’s here,’ she announced to whoever was at the end of the line.
She hung up with a grimace. ‘They’re all in a flap back there! Some of the funds, the ones the temp was working on, haven’t been valued yet this morning.’
‘Oh.’
Jodi tried not to look worried at the prospect of being asked to value a fund the instant she set foot on the premises.
The doors leading to the back office slid open to reveal a forty-something woman with short frizzy fair hair and faded lipstick.
‘Come through,’ she barked, holding one of the doors open with her foot.
Jodi approached, holding out her hand. ‘I’m –’
‘I know your name.’ She snatched her hand away after a mere touch. ‘It’s about the only thing that agency is capable of getting right. I’m Gretel – the boss.’
Jodi followed her down a long corridor that had glass-panelled offices on both sides.
‘You’re sharing with me,’ Gretel declared, turning into an office that looked just like all the others. ‘We’re short on space.’
The office was cold, the thermostat on the wall turned down low. Two desks, each with a computer, were positioned perpendicularly. Jodi put her handbag down on the smaller one. The office was generous in size, with more than enough space to accommodate two people. Nevertheless, it would be extremely difficult to share if Gretel was half the dragon she appeared to be.
‘Now,’ Gretel began menacingly, ‘let’s get a few things straight. I don’t mind you being late on the odd occasion – I know that happens to the best of us – but I can’t stand being let down like I was this morning. If we don’t value our funds on time, then other departments can’t do their jobs. It’s like a production line – one person can impact ten others. So, if you can’t come in – you’re sick, or you’ve been run over by a bus, or whatever – then please call me. I’m here from 7 am. Once I have notice, I can avert most disasters. Understand?’
‘Yes,’ Jodi nodded. ‘I won’t let you down, Gretel. This is my first job in London and I really want to do well.’
‘Good.’ Gretel seemed to relax a smidgeon. ‘You’ll be responsible for valuing five of our funds. I’ll run through them with you now . . .’
‘Okay.’ Jodi did her best not to look daunted. ‘Do you mind if I take notes?’
Gretel shook her head. ‘You’ll find a pen and paper in the desk drawer.’
Jodi opened the drawer and found a half-used notepad and a pen with a chewed top. Gretel rolled her seat over and showed her where the valuation files were saved on the computer. She explained the process thoroughly, her voice becoming calmer as she went on. Jodi listened carefully, took copious notes, and then, under Gretel’s watchful eye, began to update the data. After a while she felt confident that, despite her inexperience, she would master the job. She was also pretty sure that she’d get on okay with Gretel. Once she didn’t let her down.
Andrew came out of the building deep in thought. His hands shoved in his pockets, his head down, he didn’t notice Jodi standing there.
‘Hello.’ She waved an arm across his path. ‘It’s me.’
His face broke into a smile. ‘What are you doing here?’ He looked her up and down, admiring her short pinstripe skirt. ‘Nice legs! Did you have an interview?’
‘Not exactly. I got a job – as business analyst for Invesco – just round the corner from here.’
‘That’s great.’ He lifted her up and swung her around. ‘We’ll be able to get the tube together and meet for lunch.’
‘I know! And we’ll be able to afford furniture . . .’
‘And something other than noodles for dinner . . .’
They gazed at each other, delighted at the thought of enjoying two incomes.
‘Let’s celebrate – go out for dinner,’ he suggested.
‘Should we? I mean, I haven’t got paid yet.’
‘Of course we should. This is the job you’ve been waiting for since you graduated. It’s what you deserve.’
They went to a small Indian restaurant with a reasonably priced menu and toasted each other with glasses of watery house wine.
‘To the future.’
They held hands across the table while they waited for the food. Jodi felt deliriously happy. Not only did she have this gorgeous man who loved her as much as she loved him, but she finally had a job that was befitting of her abilities. For the first time since her parents’ divorce, she felt that the good in her life outweighed the bad.
Later on that night, tipsy from the house wine, they caught the tube home. The rush hour over, the station felt eerie. The commuters were rougher and had shifty eyes. Jodi clasped Andrew’s hand tightly, glad to have him by her side.
Jodi, anxious to prove herself to Gretel, worked very hard over the following weeks. She began work well before the official 9 am start, building in extra time to consult her notes and check for errors. Some days, if there was a delay in the availability of the price feeds, she worked through lunch. She learned to dress warm as Gretel liked the temperature of the office to be on the chilly side.
The job eventually became more familiar. Jodi was able to do without her notepad and wasn’t slowed down by errors. However, she continued to come in early. Sometimes she picked up a coffee for Gretel along the way.
It didn’t take Jodi long to notice that there was a lack of consistency in the daily processes she was required to perform. She had five funds and three different valuation processes.
‘The company has a history of mergers and takeovers,’ Gretel explained. ‘Nobody had time to integrate the systems when the new companies came on board, and now we’re left with all these higgledy-piggledy processes.’
Gretel didn’t have enough hours in the day to worry about standardisation. She had senior management meetings to attend, over thirty staff to manage, and dozens of daily operational fires that needed putting out.
‘I’d like to have a try at making things more consistent,’ said Jodi. ‘I have a good head for process and getting it down on paper.’
Gretel looked up from the thick report she was reading and emitted one of her weary sighs. ‘Look, Jodi, the last thing I need right now is to have to train someone else in your job.’
‘I’ll still do my job,’ Jodi assured her boss. ‘I promise you won’t have to worry about that.’
Gretel smiled cynically. ‘I don’t think you have any idea how big and complex a mess it is.’
Jodi knew her well enough by now to be able to negotiate. ‘How about you give me a week? Just to see if I can at least work out an approach to the proble
m. Then, if I can’t convince you to proceed, I’ll drop it.’
Gretel shrugged. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
She went back to her report having given an assent of sorts.
Jodi started with her own job and mapped the top-level steps of each valuation process onto a flowchart. Then she talked to the team leaders who worked for Gretel and mapped their valuation processes in a similar manner. She used sheets of A3 paper and drew the flowcharts in pencil so that it was easy to make changes. Once the mapping was complete, she collated and summarised her initial findings.
‘We have fourteen different valuation processes,’ she informed her boss.
Gretel grimaced. ‘I guessed it would be something of that order.’
‘I think we could get down to eight processes with minimal effort,’ Jodi continued. ‘Then, with a little more planning, we could half that again.’
Gretel ran a hand through her short frazzled hair. ‘You mean four processes in total?’
‘Yes.’
Gretel asked to see the flowcharts. She laid the large sheets of paper across her desk and read each one, absently biting on her thumbnail as she did so.
‘You’re right!’ She looked up. ‘You do have a head for this, Jodi. I’m quite amazed that you got all of this down on paper in just one week.’
Jodi smiled proudly, knowing that Gretel wasn’t one for doling out praise willy-nilly.
‘So you’re suggesting a two-phase approach,’ Gretel went on. ‘First, the quick wins. Then, a few months down the line, the integration of the remaining systems and processes, perhaps combining the best of each to come up with a new best-practice method of valuation. Integration and process improvement all at once – cutting cost, saving headcount . . .’
Jodi lost her smile. ‘You mean people may lose their jobs?’
‘Welcome to the real world,’ Gretel replied, her tone harsh. ‘You’ll need to toughen up if you’re to project-manage all of this. By the way, ring that stupid agency and tell them to send in someone to do your job – someone with experience this time, please.’
Andrew was also getting ahead in his job. He was promoted when his boss left for a better paying position. His work hours extended dramatically but Jodi still commuted with him whenever possible. Sometimes it was as late as 9 pm when they caught the tube home together.