by Jenni Keer
The other end of the phone went eerily quiet.
Adam was cross-legged and highly animated, swinging his chair from side to side as Lucy walked through the sales office door on a bright but pleasingly breezy Thursday morning. She’d left her sister in bed (insisting the sofa was more suitable for the non-pregnant member of the family) and reassured her she could stay as long as she needed to. She rang her dad and warned him that Mum showing up on the doorstep wouldn’t make Emily return home any faster, but he was one step ahead and hatched a plan to point Sandra in Stuart’s direction, certain he would be glad of help with the girls until Emily got her head together.
The summer weather contrasted starkly with Lucy’s icy winter mood, which had only been temporarily shelved the previous evening because Emily’s crisis had been greater than her own. She hadn’t mentioned her impending dismissal to her sister and her spirits had deteriorated even further after breakfast when she realised she’d lost the locket. Despite a thorough search, it was nowhere to be found.
‘Good morning,’ Adam chirped.
‘Morning,’ she replied, feeling that it was about as far removed from a good morning as the planet Neptune was from Flat Twenty, Lancaster Road. She slung her bag under her desk and sat down.
Pat stood up briefly to hand her a home-made cupcake on a white china saucer, but returned to her seat before any meaningful eye contact had been made. Pat, Lucy realised, was a silent but effective force in the office, keeping everyone together and happy. Lucy tucked it in her drawer to have after the meeting. She would need something to cheer her up and a small, swirly mountain of pink frosting might do the trick.
The white plastic clock on the wall seemed to be going backwards. As Lucy watched it meander its lackadaisical way around to ten o’clock, her short-spin-cycle stomach was not helped by Adam’s chirpy pen tapping and irritating smirk. Did he know? she wondered. And was he laughing at her? Could this somehow be linked to her accidental discovery that he was a carer to his disabled mother? Perhaps he was pleased she was leaving and hoped his secret would go with her. Perhaps he’d even had something to do with her losing her job?
Finally, Sam walked past and peered over her glasses.
‘Ten minutes, Lucy. My office.’
Lucy nodded as her stomach completed the final spin and gave a clunk to signal the end of the programme.
When she stood up ten minutes later, she let her hand trail across the edge of her desk as if she was leaving a dear friend. Crunch time.
Chapter 49
‘So, Lucy, assuming the jungle drums have been beating out their gossipy rhythm since yesterday. Do you know why I’ve called this meeting?’
‘Erm, I think so,’ Lucy mumbled. I mustn’t cry, she thought. Why had the locket gone missing when she needed it most?
‘Good. It should make everything a bit easier if we are working from the same file, as it were.’ As usual, there were no signs of emotion from her efficient and professional boss.
‘When do you need me to clear my desk?’ Lucy tried to match Sam’s professionalism.
‘I was thinking by the end of next week to give you an overlap with the new girl. It would be great if you could oversee a transition period for her. Daniel found her actually; she was a temp at TopToys, so she has some background in our industry.’
‘That’s not a problem,’ Lucy said, but was inwardly thinking Tompkins Toy Wholesaler were taking not only the Mickey but the Minnie, Goofy and Daffy as well. Perhaps if she’d been wearing the locket, she might have told Sam exactly where to stick the suggestion she trained up the girl taking her precious job. But she merely forced a smile and cleared her throat.
‘And then we should be good to go the week after that.’ Sam looked down at the papers in front of her, ticked something with her silver pen, and turned the page.
‘Erm, will you be able to provide me with a reference? If it’s not too much trouble? I know things haven’t worked out and there have been some unfortunate incidents recently, but I am a hard worker and I’m not asking you to lie or anything, just focus on some of my good points. I mean, I enjoyed designing the promotional fliers, I have a good relationship with most of the customers and…’
Sam frowned and bent forward to inspect Lucy more closely over the rims of her red glasses. She took them off, folding the arms across the lenses, and placed them on the large expanse of table between them. ‘Do you think I’m letting you go?’
‘Aren’t you?’
Sam chuckled to herself, put her hands together as if in prayer and rested the tips of her fingers on her lips. ‘So you think you’re in here for me to fire you, and yet you are perfectly happy to retrain your replacement?’
Lucy’s eyes darted from right to left a few times, as if an explanation to the confusing situation might suddenly pop up in the office and wave at her. She was missing something, but it was pretty damn camouflaged.
‘This certainly explains why I was ambushed by the warehouse staff last night. It was like being subjected to the Spanish Inquisition. Five of them stood where you’re sitting now, a semicircle of burly men making me feel even smaller than I already do and begging me to save your job, which was never in jeopardy in the first place. I’ve never seen so many grown men get emotional. How I hate the Chinese whispers of the workplace. Often destructive and usually totally unfounded.’
‘I’m not being sacked?’ Lucy was confused.
Sam shook her head.
‘I don’t understand. I have to work late to catch up, my desk is in total chaos – so much so I lost an important order – you caught me in the cupboard with Daniel, and overheard me refer to Mr Tompkins less than respectfully…’
‘No, you choose to work late. You are conscientious and hard-working. Yes, your desk looks like a tip, but it doesn’t stop you doing your job properly and, anyway, I have my own theories about that missing order. Even if I’m wrong, everyone makes mistakes. It’s how you deal with them that matters.’ She gave a brief but encouraging smile.
‘But you were so cross when I approached Mr Tompkins with the wine idea.’
‘No, I was surprised you hadn’t mentioned it to me but not cross. And although the idea wasn’t workable, Mr Tompkins and I were both impressed that you had been thinking about the issue and presented your idea in a professional manner. That’s the kind of employee we are looking for. We need people who want to see the company succeed. I’m not sure what kind of ogre you think I am. Possibly one with eight legs?’ She raised her eyebrows at Lucy. ‘But I’m actually an okay person. Even though, as you know, I don’t have any friends to back up that statement.’
‘You have me,’ Lucy said, and Sam smiled.
‘You’ve got massive potential, Lucy. You can mix with everyone, from the managing director – who I happen to know is very fond of you – to the warehouse lads – who would quite literally get on bended knee to save your job. And this is a massive advantage.’
‘But I don’t understand. You’ve given my job to someone else.’
‘I have other plans for you, Lucy Baker,’ and she opened the desk drawer in front of her and took out a small plastic box. She slid it across the desk towards Lucy, who picked it up and opened the lid. Inside, there were two hundred printed business cards.
Lucy Baker
East Anglian Area Sales Representative
Tompkins Toy Wholesaler.
Chapter 50
‘Daniel’s going to cover inside the M25 as Trevor has been headhunted by a manufacturer but was totally upfront about it, so I’ve had notice. It’s the trickiest area, but Daniel is more than up to it. He occasionally displays inappropriate behaviour in the office, which I am addressing, but he’s extremely good at what he does. Why on earth did you think I’d taken you out with him for the day?’ Sam asked.
‘Adam said it was to take notes for you.’
‘Ah, I wondered why you were so diligently scribbling everything down. I probably said something like I wanted you along to c
ome and observe Daniel. I swear that man hears what he wants to. So, is it a yes?’
‘If you think I’m up to it. But I’m still in shock. I was sure after all my disasters I was heading for the door.’
‘Lucy, I know people think I’m some sort of career-driven robot, but I am human, and a lot sharper than you give me credit for. The whole Dick thing for example: just because I didn’t roll around on the floor laughing doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the funny side.’
For something Sam professed to find amusing, she merely raised an eyebrow and shook her head gently from side to side at the memory. Honestly? She’d be a good match for George if Lucy hadn’t already earmarked him for herself.
‘Haven’t you noticed how Daniel asks you to get the warehouse staff or drivers on side when things have gone pear-shaped?’ Sam continued. ‘He knows, as well as I do, that those men would do anything for you. You are going to breeze this job, Lucy, and we’ll need to watch that you aren’t headhunted like Trevor.’
Lucy took the top card from the pile and turned it over in her fingers. Her name was there, in black and white, shouting success and the start of a promising career. Her hand went for the locket, as it had done so many times over the last few weeks, but it wasn’t there.
‘Thank you,’ she said, reaching across the desk to shake Sam’s hand. ‘I appreciate this fantastic opportunity.’
Walking back into the office, Lucy couldn’t have felt higher if she’d been smoking one of Brenda’s hand-rolled Sixties joints. The plastic box was carried carefully, as if it contained a precious jewel, and gently placed on her desk. She pulled on her headset and logged into the system, but halfway through the first call (an angry customer who’d just discovered the sound synthesiser chips in his order of thirty My Pretty Princess dolls were repeatedly yelling, ‘Take cover! Incoming tactical nuke!’) she opened the lid, took out a card and pinned it to the edge of her board.
The background chatter and diligent tapping on keyboards was disrupted as the office door was flung open with some force and Daniel burst through the door. His face was difficult to read. Eyes wide and sucking in a deep breath, he headed over to Adam’s desk. Adam looked momentarily intimidated and slunk into his chair, almost visibly cowering from an imagined blow. Daniel’s hand shot upwards and came down with a flourish.
‘High five and massive respect,’ Daniel said, as his open hand came towards a hunched-up Adam. He managed to reciprocate the high five before it became an accidental palm in the face. ‘Mr Csar? Yes, it’s an unusual name, but I’ve got a customer called John Dungworth and I don’t hold it against him. So I undertake the two-hour drive down to London to meet Mr Csar who has expressed an interest in ClickIn, and I stand there in reception, insistent that I have an appointment with him at nine o’clock. The receptionist – nice one, by the way, she was obviously in on the whole thing – asks if I have a first name. Lou, I say, Lou Csar. And she asks me to repeat it. And then the penny drops. Quite frankly, Adam old chum, I didn’t think you had it in you.’ And Daniel went for another high five, one Adam was prepared for this time.
‘Right, well…’ said Adam, getting out of his chair and standing up to tower over his nemesis. ‘Never underestimate a sales office supervisor, that’s what I say.’
Daniel shook his head but was smiling. ‘Six-a-sodding-clock I was up this morning. You got me good and proper. Let’s call it quits, shall we?’
Adam and Daniel stood together and shook hands, before Daniel wandered down to Sam’s office.
Adam walked over to Sonjit’s desk with a huge grin on his face, they exchanged a perfect high five, and then he circled back to his desk and sat down with a flourish, slightly adjusting himself as his bottom nearly missed the chair.
‘So, as a result of all the observations and assessments, which I know everyone found intrusive and time-consuming, I have been able to work out ways to save the company a considerable amount of money. I can halve the stationery budget for a start,’ and Sam threw a wry glance at Adam. ‘There are ways to reduce waste and manage time and resources far more efficiently. With some money invested in modernisation – don’t even get me started on that great hulk of a photocopier – I think we can give the competition a run for their money. And after the success of ClickIn, Richard is already in talks with another international toy manufacturer for exclusive import rights to their new range of outdoor games. Therefore, I am pleased to announce there will be no redundancies.’
Everyone gathered to hear Sam’s prognosis for the company, to be told the news of Lucy’s promotion, and the appointment of a new member of sales staff. Even Daniel had been called in.
‘It has become apparent, however, that the photocopier is not the only outdated thing in this company and some of you need to address your behaviour in the workplace.’ She spun to Adam, who was hovering to her left. ‘Adam, I am sending you on a one-day employee training course next week in Peterborough. The fact I have been required to send you on this course is noted in your staff record, but your attitude towards it, and subsequent behaviour, is in your hands, and will be equally noted. The morning session covers a variety of topics, including a module on workplace harassment – which I expect you to pay particular attention to – and there are a variety of team- building exercises in the afternoon. I suggest you take a pair of trainers.’
Daniel smirked as Sam handed Adam a leaflet covering the course details. ‘Monkey bars and raft building. You’re gonna love it, mate.’
‘Perhaps the two of you could car share?’ she suggested, and she handed Daniel an identical leaflet.
It was interesting how the office chatter across partitions, over lunch and in the corridors was no longer critical of Sam, but instead there was an air of respect for the general manager, and a feeling of optimism and enthusiasm.
Jess rang Lucy on the internal line that afternoon. ‘Well done with the promotion. I’m so proud of you. Gonna miss sneaking up to see you though.’
‘To be honest, I still can’t believe it. All I need to do now is bag that grumpy neighbour of mine and it will be a week even my mother would be proud of. He’s back from London this afternoon; knowing him he’ll head straight to the factory, but by the end of today I should know whether Brenda’s locket has worked its magic.’
Dropping off her handbag, lunch bag and knitting bag, and quickly changing out of her work clothes, Lucy put on a pretty floral dress and white pumps. If there was going to be a big moment in her life, this would be it, and she felt she should dress for the occasion. The only thing missing from her ensemble was the locket, which still hadn’t turned up. She could have done with the extra confidence, but her promotion had given her a temporary boost.
She knew where the E.G.A. Packaging factory was as she had driven past it on several occasions, so she jumped into her car and nipped around the one-way system, certain George would still be there. He was rarely home before seven o’clock and suddenly she couldn’t wait that long.
The car park was full when she arrived, but she eventually found an obscure parking slot to the side of the factory, near the warehouse delivery entrance. She took her mobile from her pocket, found George’s number and sent a text.
Can you spare a few minutes? I’m at the factory. I’ll come to reception. Lucy x
She toyed with removing the kiss but it was innocuous enough. She put kisses on the end of her texts to Jess, so he shouldn’t read too much into it. And anyway, she was about to launch herself at him, full pelt, and plant the world’s biggest and most heartfelt smacker on his lips – if her toes could tip up high enough.
Right, she told herself, here goes nothing…
And then she dropped the phone down that ridiculous gap between the edge of the driver’s seat and the gearstick casing. It slid on its side and wedged itself just out of reach. She spent several minutes squeezing her fingers down to try and poke it out but eventually managed to flick one end up with a knitting needle (they were breeding in the glovebox) and ya
nked it out.
Taking a quick look in the rear-view mirror, she wiped under her eyes and pinched her cheeks. It would have to do. This bold action would either seal it or not. But she was a tiger now, not a mouse.
She got out of the car and brushed her skirt down, thankful no playful breezes were going to whip it up and cause embarrassment. As she turned the corner to walk towards reception, she was surprised to see Jess walking towards the factory and noticed her car abandoned outside the open gates. George appeared from the building and was striding towards her with purpose. He looked like The Incredible Hulk, only decidedly less green, and was a man on a mission – not to be stopped by anyone or anything.
Standing on the path in her simple cotton dress, her hair about her shoulders, Jess looked as shocked as Lucy at the approaching tank of a man. She was quite beautiful and it was easy to understand why men found her attractive. Jess stood her ground, and when George reached her, he took her into his arms, almost lifting her feet from the ground. No words came from his mouth, but then this was George and conversation had never been his thing. He bent to meet her upturned face. Dropping her down to the path, he cupped her head in his large hands and brought his lips down onto hers with a force and determination that spoke of uncontrollable passion. Jess slid her hands about his waist and the kiss continued; their bodies moulding together and their lips searching and finding responses from each other.
Lucy tore her eyes away and her heart crumbled as if someone had removed the last supporting Jenga block from the wibbly-wobbly tower that was her life. She turned and ran back to her car, without once looking back.
Chapter 51
Lucy crashed through her front door, relieved to find Emily was still out. Her sister had left the flat that morning to meet with her boss and told Lucy she’d return for her bits and pieces later, as she was ready to return home. Not able to face Brenda quite yet (she had some serious sobbing to do first), Lucy got out her knitting. It was easier to lose herself in the repetitive nature of row upon row of simple stitches, letting frustrated tears fall onto her work, and the television play a backdrop to her misery.