Money For Nothing

by Dom Price

  In the corner of his right eye, he saw a perfectly prepared Macchiato coming into sight, gripped by the perfect olive skin. It was a sight that normally sparked a frenzy of thoughts. Coffee and confidence were his fuel. But something wasn’t right, and Dave’s head could only compute one transaction right now.

  “Nobody knows my middle name. Nobody. It was impossible. Maybe he’d mis-heard her. It was such a non-issue even if she did happen to know it, but how? Nobody knew. Well, practically nobody, and certainly no-one who worked at Food United Group.” Dave didn’t want to engage in conversation with someone who might have insider information on him, and the concealment then revelation of his middle name had taken him by surprise.

  Dave’s mind replayed the conversation in his head, searching for evidence. He hadn’t been initially surprised when she knew his name, even though it was the more formal ‘David’ that he didn’t often go by. That though alone was an easy mistake to make, and hardly constituted a clue. The fact that she knew his name in the first place was surely a sign of good preparation by Food United Group PA’s and a sign of respect for Dave’s seniority and standing in the corporate world.

  Buoyed by his analysis, Dave suddenly realised. With the advance of technology and in the name of good planning, the attractive lady had probably just Googled Dave. Naturally, she wanted to know who she was dealing with, and it had worked. There were plenty of pictures, and there were probably a few articles from the various conferences that Dave had been a guest speaker. The middle name conundrum was harder to solve, but not impossible. With so many social networking sites and online publication of material, it was unfeasible for her to work out his middle name. The only part of the play back that Dave couldn’t rationalise was the ‘why’. Why would she use his middle name? Why would she use that tone. And why on earth would a PA expect a hello.

  “Halleluiah!” It was a real brain teaser, but Dave had finally worked it out. The little trick by the people at Food United Group had nearly got him and very nearly deceived even his highly analytical and polished brain. The clues were the fact that she was a woman, a PA and had olive skin. This was a test of Dave’s belief in Cultural Diversity. Very clever. It all made sense to him now. Food United Group didn’t want advisers who knew lots about Cultural Diversity, they wanted partners who believed in Cultural Diversity, so it was time for Dave to pass to the test.

  With the eyes of the room upon him, the light and energy was fully replenished in Dave’s body having solved the riddle, and he regained the use of his faculties. Armed with the solution in his head, Dave took his macchiato from the PA, and slowly span around. The transition was amazing, as he was now glad that every eye in the room was on him. The board room really was his home, his stage and his arena in which to shine.

  Dave spoke with purpose, and a volume that enabled the whole room to share in his brilliance.

  “Hello there. It is very nice to meet you, and thank you so much for the coffee. We’re all equal in this room, but you do have a slight advantage in that you know my name, but I don’t know yours. I’m keen to meet everyone here who is contributing to this meeting, whatever their role, background or beliefs.”

  Dave felt like he was delivering perfection. Bill was cringing.

  Reaching out his hand, Dave delivered the killer blow.

  “I think we’ll start with a hand shake shall we, and then we can rub noses once we all get to know each other better.” He was the only person laughing in the room, but his volume was enough to fill the massive space.

  “Why don’t I do the introductions?” Tim couldn’t help but interrupt and save his business partner and the rest of the meeting, before Dave said anything else wrong.

  “Dave Marsdon, Director from CEC Services who we’ve been doing a mixture of engagements with, and who is with us today to talk about Cultural Diversity.” Tim restrained himself from any irony.

  “Dave, meet Ronnie Patel.”

  Unfortunately the ground didn’t swallow him up. There was no point in praying either. He’d been a non-believer for too long. The door looked far away and his legs weren’t working, so an escape wasn’t on the cards. He’d have to face the music. One thing was certain; this was the lowest point of his career so far. In fact, it was one of the lowest points in his life.

  “It’s OK Tim, David and I go way back. Don’t we?”

  It couldn’t get worse, surely. With the remaining functions that hadn’t yet deserted him, Dave once again racked his brain. He’d met a myriad of women in the last month or so, and pissed off pretty much all of them. This could be a disaster. If they’d met online through the websites, she’d not know him as he never revealed his real name. The blind date looked very different. Speed dating? Not a chance; there was no-one remotely this attractive at that event. Which only left the fateful Thursday night in the club with Jason. Looking the PA up and down subtly, Dave was pretty confident that there was no one there that night that looked anywhere near as stunning as this smiling perfection that was stood before him, even with the beer goggles on. Who was this assassin who seemed to have her heart set on single handily bringing down his career? What were her motivations? Who’d primed her with information? Who knew his plan?

  Tim looked equally confused. Ronnie had only been in the country for less than 24 hours, and even someone with Dave’s appetite would have struggled to have got an introduction in that time. Plus, if they’d met already, the surely Dave would know the news that she came to deliver, in which case, why would he be here now.

  “So you are Dave now eh. Seems like we’re both going by slightly different names. Oh come on; please don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten me already?”

  To the rest of the room, the lack of precise information was creating all kinds of thoughts. They’d clearly met before, and they’d both used different names. Every single man in the room could empathise with Dave. They’d all had a dalliance every now and then, and lived in fear of the day that one of their conquests came back to haunt them. To each and every one of the grey suits in the room, it seemed obvious that this was the case. The mistress had arrived, and he didn’t recognise her. That was going to hurt.

  “Come here you idiot and give me a hug. Stop messing around. You always were good at keeping a straight face.”

  Ronnie Patel lurched forward, and with every ounce of love in her body, she gave Dave the biggest and nicest hug he’d had in years. He didn’t reciprocate. He couldn’t move. Sensing the lack of participation, Ronnie leaned back and looked deep into Dave’s eyes.

  “Dave, it’s me.”

  As their eyes locked, her name rushed through every sinew of his lax body and his droopy eyes sparked into life as the shock instantly hit the extremities of his perplexed figure. With so much adrenalin pumping around his veins, Dave was struggling to get the word out as he hugged back. His grip was tight, and filled with a mixture of emotions. Fear, shock, surprise and complete and utter confusion. This wasn’t familiar ground for him. It had been a long time since he’d held someone which such vigour and commitment, and he hadn’t anticipated that it would be in the board room of Food United Group with their leader, in front of a room of 20 observing grey suits.

  “Veronica Cartwright?”

  “David Marsdon.”

  They embraced as one.

  ***

  Chapter Alone, Confused and Defeated

  ***

  Ronnie excused the reunited friends and led Dave to an adjoining meeting room. The catch up was simple and factual.

  “Yeah, my Mum and Dad split up, so me and Mum moved from Sheffield around the UK with a few different relatives, before her Uncle asked us over to the USA. I’ve been living there since and working for my Uncle. Once my Mum got her divorce through, she went back to her maiden name and I decided to do the same. And well, as for the Ronnie thing, blame my teenage years for that. Veronica sounded too stuck up, so I’ve been known as Ronnie since my college years. Anyway, my Uncle hasn’t been well recently s
o I’ve been doing more and more.”

  “Hang on. Your Uncle Patel is Rashid Patel? As in the Owner and CEO of Food United Group?”

  “Yeah, Uncle Rashi. His health isn’t so great, but I’ve been his right hand woman for about 6 years now, so it made sense for me to take over the reins whilst he gets better. Which is also why I had to come to the UK for the announcement. Anyway, how are you? How are your parents? And Anne? Oh, and that friend of yours. I can picture his face, but I could never remember his name. Kinda plain guy, quite un-assuming, but nice enough.”

  “Tony. Ha, he is good. He is now also known as my brother-in-law and father to my niece and nephew. Him and Anne have been married for years now. My folks are good. They still live in the same house on the same street in the same Sheffield. So how did the announcement go down? I assume you mean the worst kept corporate secret that you are acquiring a whole load of businesses around Europe that you will amalgamate into the Food United Group empire?”

  There was a subtle smile on Dave’s face that hid the joy behind it. It was great to catch up with an old friend, but ever better when that old friend was the unassuming keeper of the key to his biggest achievement yet. He no longer had to rely on his fragile knowledge of Cultural Diversity to secure Food United Group as a major client for CEC Services. Veronica would obviously favour him over anyone else, and the promotion would be his. Whilst his plan had been masterful, maybe it was time for him to give credence to the idea that it isn’t always what you know. Sometimes it’s who you know.

  “Really, are those the rumours that were flying around? I’d read a few of the broadsheets and some of the online news reports, but they all spoke generically about what we might do. So what have you heard Mr Marsdon Director Man? And why have you got black eyes?”

  “The black eyes will have to wait. Well, I keep my ear to the ground and know a few people. Word was that you were going to acquire a few major competitors and create a massive European food conglomerate. Out of 10, how right am I?”

  “Out of 10? About 1.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Me and Uncle Rashi have spent the last few months in conversations with various Treasury, Industry and Competition Commission heads, and it turns out that we’d get blocked at every possible avenue. Europe just isn’t going to cut it for us right now, so we’re going to get rid of a few non-core business units and focus our efforts on North America and Asia Pacific. It’s where the growth and the profits are.”

  “So no acquisitions? And no massive project? And no business transformation? And no need for lots of super intelligent and highly efficient consultants to expedite the projects?”

  “Quite right David. It will be business as usual for Food United Group in Europe, as they are a good enterprise, but it’s just not got the growth we can get elsewhere, and there are just too many barriers. Don’t worry though; it shouldn’t affect the Cultural Diversity Project that you are involved in.”

  “Great news.” Dave did a poor job of hiding his disappointment.

  “Look, we should crack on with the meeting. They’ll all be wondering what is going on. I can’t begin to imagine what they are all thinking back in there. I know it’s short notice, but I’ve got no plans tonight if you are free. You could even bring your wife or partner or whoever along. It would be great to catch up Dave.”

  “Yeah, I’m free tonight. But it will be just me if that is alright. No wife to speak of as such. You know what it’s like climbing the corporate ladder with someone in tow. Well, I mean...”

  “Dave stop. It’s OK. I haven’t got a wife either. Or a husband, life partner or significant other. Uncle Rashi has kept me far too busy for any distractions like that. 8pm at the Hyatt. I’ll meet you downstairs. Now let’s go chat about Cultural Diversity, and let’s see if you can’t offend me some more with your stereotypes; the attractive ethnic girl must be the coffee maker eh?”

  Both of them laughed heartily. It felt good to laugh, but Dave knew that the news he’d just got from Veronica wouldn’t get a giggle out of Bill. On the scales of life, Dave had just gained a friend and probably lost a promotion. He wasn’t sure which one had more weighting.

  As Dave took his seat next to Bill, the room looked on in anticipation for confirmation of the story they weren’t going to hear. Bill’s eyes quizzed Dave as if to say “you didn’t did you?”, so Dave put him out of his misery and gave him the good news. He’d save the bad news for later. For now, it was important that Bill could imagine Dave as a partner, because it was more than Dave could muster.

  “She’s an old friend, and a very close friend. We went to school together.”

  Bill’s face and posture lit up with excitement.

  “Excellent news young man. And very well played too. You had us all fooled. You really are showing that you’ve got the potential for this new role haven’t you?”

  Dave decided that any more information now would be detrimental. It made sense for Bill to follow his assumptions and spend as long as possible imagining Dave as a partner. Once he heard the rest of Dave’s story, the imagery was sure to be replaced with anger.

  ***

  Chapter Comfortable, Conclusions and Confusions

  ***

  “Mum, you remember Veronica don’t you?”

  “Oh my giddy aunt I do. And how kind the years have been to you? Simply stunning.” As mothers do, Jane reached out her hand and placed it on Ronnie’s arm, as if to re-assure her that the words were true. “You know dear, I must admit that it’s just nice to see David bring a girl home. We’ve been convinced for years that he might be a bit ABCD. You know, all them bad influences down in London and all that. I won’t tell you what they called it in my day, but I think you kids call it cosmopolitan. Just a bloody excuse for piercings, tattoos and dyed hair.” Jane’s smile was beaming. It was like his mum’s coming of age.

  Dave, normally one to avidly avoid such occasions was blushing, but loving every moment. The week had been a strange one, but he was starting to feel amazingly comfortable with his new life. Work was very much still an important part of his day, but Dave had caught up with Ronnie every night since their chance meeting, and he was blossoming with feelings that had previously appeared immune in his body.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Anne was here, and the sight of Ronnie was nearly too much for her to contain herself. The tipping point seemed to be when she noticed them holding hands, at which point the extinct volcano of her eyes and nose erupted in unison. Tears flowed and snot rockets appeared.

  “And you wonder why I never brought a girl home. I feared this reaction you know!” But a normal angry comment from Dave had softened and become banter after his 7 days with Ronnie.

  “So come on then. Mum’s already put the kettle on, and Dad’s gone with Tony to the off-licence and won’t be back for about 10mins, so crack on with the story little brother. You can fill the boys in later.”

  Then it happened. The miracle that no-one expected and no-one saw coming. Veronica’s grip on Dave’s hand tightened ever so slightly. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough to get the reaction she required. His silence. No-one close to Dave had ever witnessed him be overpowered in a conversation, but for once in his life, he seemed more than content to share the limelight. After all, she looked stunning in the limelight.

  “I flew in last week for some meetings. Neither of us realised that we’d be in the same meeting, and in fact your son here mistook me for a PA and ordered me to go get him a coffee. Anyway, we’ve caught up a few times this last week and shared our stories along with a few bottles of wine, and I was just dying to see all the faces that Dave included in his wonderful tales. You all look so wonderful.”

  She was lying. The Sheffield weather had battered Jane, who looked older, paler and more pastel than ever. But today, there was a radiance of joy in her face that was warming the room. Anne looked like a former beauty model who’d just been released from The Priory. Her ad
diction; children.

  “Well Veronica, you simply look stunning. You must tell us your secret later. I’ll go stir the tea. You kids make yourselves at home.” Jane was on her way.

  “This is home mum.” Dave’s words were meant to be kind, but now Jane joined Anne. Instead of an eruption of tears, the older Jane opted for a lady like dab of the eyes with her handkerchief and gentle snivel. Her kids were home, they were happy and things were good.

  The Spanish inquisition began in earnest when Derek and Tony arrived back from the bottle shop. Armed with Lambrusco, Blue Nun and a 12 pack of beers, the family swapped the weak tea for something a bit stronger. In between drinks, Jane would skip upstairs, a little more flush than the time before. Each time, she’d quickly make up one of the rooms in the house, and by the end of the drinks, there was a bed for nearly everyone. Or nearly a bed for everyone. They were all too tipsy to tell.

  The house had never been big at the best of times, but with three generations and partners in tow, the Marsdon house was at its cosiest, but no-one complained. Dave and Veronica were sharing a bed for the first time ever, and Dave felt like a 14 year old again. Not just because of the excitement and trepidation of sharing a bed with a girl, but because they were in his old racing car bed. The thought of changing or upgrading Dave and Anne’s bedrooms had been too much for Anne, so they’d been carefully restored and maintained to their former beauty. Circa 1992.

  “I see your parents did the usual thing and turned your bedroom into an office as soon as you moved out?”