‘I really don’t want to waste anyone’s time this morning, so let’s focus on the end state for now and we can have a discussion later about roles and responsibilities. Offline.’
Deuce.
Anna hated office speak or Corporate Bollocks and she had a feeling Hudson was going to be fluent in it.
‘Okay,’ said Anna, and Hudson let out a sigh. ‘But we are all going to have a slightly different view of what the end state is—’
‘Which is the whole purpose of this meeting,’ said Hudson, the agitation in his voice apparent. ‘Let’s spend what’s left of this session coming to a consensus on what that end state looks like.’ Advantage Jones. ‘Is everyone happy with that approach?’ Everyone nodded except for Anna. Game Jones.
Hudson swept away the writing someone had left on the whiteboard with a few broad strokes of the board rubber, his toned muscles flexing under his well-fitted shirt. He had no need to go up on tiptoes to reach the top edge or jump up and down like an untrained terrier as Anna always had to do. She was really beginning to dislike him.
Anna was beavering away at her computer, trying to ignore the laughing coming from the other side of the office. She gave a cross glance in their general direction and paused. Hudson was sitting nonchalantly on the corner of his desk holding court as the others all gazed at him adoringly. Anna slumped back in her seat – it was like being back at school and being up against Chloe Buglioni for Head Girl all over again. Just like Chloe, Hudson was taller, more attractive, funnier and more confident than her. Unlike Chloe, he wasn’t promising to kiss anyone who voted for him, although from the looks on their rapt faces they would probably have liked him to. Another guffaw of laughter and head-shaking seemed to signal the end of Hudson’s story and everyone started to disperse. Anna gritted her teeth – he wasn’t Chloe, and this time, she wasn’t going to lose.
‘You coming to the pub?’ asked Sophie.
Anna stretched her neck and it clicked. She checked her watch. ‘Yeah, go on then – just for half an hour and then I need to get home for my home inspection from the cat rescue place.’
‘Hudson’s paying,’ added Sophie, turning to watch him bend over to pick up his laptop bag.
Anna was instantly no longer keen. ‘Actually, I’ll finish this.’ She angled her head towards her screen.
Sophie pouted. ‘Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not his fault you’re doing a job share.’
‘He could back down.’
‘But you’re not,’ said Sophie, with a knowing look. She had a good point.
Anna was trying to think of another excuse when Hudson strode over with his bag slung casually across his body. ‘You coming, Anna?’ He had one of those smiles she’d only seen previously on film stars. All perfect white teeth and twinkling eyes.
‘Yes, she’s just packing up,’ said Sophie, before Anna could form her excuse.
‘Awesome, see you both over there,’ said Hudson, and he strode off.
Anna slumped back in her chair. ‘What did you do that for?’ Her voice came out whinier than she’d have liked.
‘Because you and Hudson have to find a way to get on and if this is him offering an olive branch …’
‘I’d like to shove it up—’
‘Uh-uh,’ said Sophie leaning over and unplugging Anna’s laptop. ‘Play nice.’
The pub was noisy and busy and Anna was regretting agreeing to go but she had a plan: she’d have one Coke then she’d slip away without anyone noticing. She spotted the usual suspects at the far end of the bar, and with lots of apologies she weaved her way through.
‘Anna,’ called Hudson, beckoning her over.
As she and Sophie reached him, he produced two filled champagne flutes. ‘Here you go, ladies.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll just have a Coke,’ said Anna, getting out her purse.
‘Me too,’ said Sophie, gazing longingly at the glass of fizz.
‘Come on, who doesn’t like champagne?’ asked Hudson, raising both the glasses temptingly.
‘I don’t,’ said Anna.
Hudson proffered a glass to Sophie. ‘I’m on antibiotics,’ she lied. She wasn’t ready to share her baby news yet.
Hudson insisted on paying for their soft drinks and they moved away from the bar to a marginally quieter corner. ‘I need the loo,’ said Sophie and she selfishly disappeared, leaving Anna with Hudson. As if I don’t get enough of him at work, Anna thought.
‘I’m excited about working with you Anna.’ He actually sounded genuine but Anna’s bullshit monitor went into overdrive anyway.
‘Why’s that?’
‘You know so much about the company. You know the right people to engage with and they like you.’
He had clearly been doing some snooping around to find out about what people thought of her. She wasn’t sure if she felt flattered or intruded upon, but she definitely didn’t want to talk shop at the pub.
‘Thanks. Let’s not talk about me. What’s your story?’
He took a slow draw of champagne. He had attractive lips, plump and pink.
‘My dad’s American, my mom’s British. I was born just outside New York in a village called Port Chester. My dad worked in Manhattan. Shortly after 9/11 we moved to England. I went back to the US for university and I’ve been working in the UK for a few years now.’
He had a way of holding her attention and she wanted to know more but didn’t want to appear keen. ‘You’ve not lost the accent.’
‘I’ll let you in on a little secret.’ Without realising it she was leaning closer. She detected a hint of aftershave. ‘I think it’s you who has the accent.’
‘Ha, ha. You’re hilarious.’ She sipped her Coke.
‘Roberta said you’re local. Have you lived here long?’ he asked.
‘All my life.’ She had always been quite proud of the fact she was a Brummy although her short stint at university had watered down her accent a great deal. He held her eye contact and did a good job of appearing interested. ‘My mum and dad live in Hockley.’ He looked impressed, which meant he clearly had no idea where it was.
‘You’ve only worked for the one company then?’
‘In project management, yes.’ He didn’t need to know about the earlier roles as a filing clerk and a serving wench at Warwick Castle.
‘This is my fourth.’ He seemed proud of this. ‘It gives you a breadth of experience you can reapply elsewhere.’
More corporate bollocks. ‘I think loyalty to a company pays off.’
‘I think that’s naïve.’ How had they ended up talking about work again? And why was she getting annoyed with him?
Anna made her excuses and disappeared to the toilet. She had a quick word with herself. She needed to focus on the big issues; getting caught up in petty power struggles was a waste of time and energy. At the end of the day, Roberta was going to judge them both on what they delivered. She redid her lipstick, pulled back her shoulders and went back to the group.
‘… cacky pants,’ said Sophie through hysterical giggles.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Anna, feeling left out already.
‘It’s a quirk of American pronunciation,’ said Hudson, changing into an English accent. ‘You’d say everyone at the programme board meeting wore khaki trousers but to us they’re—’
‘Cacky pants,’ repeated Sophie and she doubled up again.
‘In my experience people often leave board meetings with cacky pants even if they didn’t arrive wearing them,’ said Anna. ‘Apart from me.’
Hudson’s eyebrows twitched. ‘I don’t doubt that for a second.’
A few days later, with approval from the cat rescue in the bag following their home visit, Anna drove her beloved Mini to the rescue centre. It had been a difficult decision choosing a pet and she hoped she’d made the right one. For the first time in her life she was going to be a pet owner, assuming the time she briefly had a goldfish didn’t count. She’d built him a lovely Lego home, but unsurprisingly
the house move didn’t go well for the goldfish. Anna had only been four at the time.
She followed the volunteer past the many cats and tried hard to ignore their sad faces and the guilt she felt for not being able to choose all of them. All the cats at the rescue needed homes but she knew the older ones would always find it harder than the cute mewing kittens. The volunteer stopped at a cage with a sign covering the bio, which read: ‘I’m going to my forever home.’ The cat inside glanced up.
‘Hello, Maurice,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve come to take you home.’ Maurice became very interested when his pen was opened but less so when he was bundled into a cardboard cat carrier scarcely big enough for him.
‘Is that secure?’ asked Anna, as the carrier lurched about.
‘They’re very sturdy. Don’t worry, he won’t be able to escape. Here’s all his paperwork,’ said the volunteer, handing a bundle of papers to Anna. ‘His last owner usually calls once a week. It’ll be nice to tell him that Maurice has a new home.’
Up until then Anna hadn’t thought much about Maurice’s previous owner and she didn’t have time now either as the heavy cat carrier was starting to bounce around worryingly.
Anna put it on the front seat of the car and set off. It was twenty-five minutes to home. She started talking to the box each time it began to jiggle or meow. The meows got more desperate and the box’s movement got more vigorous. He didn’t have much room inside. She was expecting to see a leg burst from each corner, cartoon style, and start marauding around the car. Anna stopped at the traffic lights and pulled on the handbrake.
‘Now listen, Maurice, we’re nearly home. It’s not far away and when we get there I’ll let you out.’ But Maurice had other ideas and, with a startling bang, the top of the carrier burst open and out jumped Maurice. Anna squealed involuntarily and the traffic lights changed. She crunched the gears and the car lurched forward as she set off again gripping the steering wheel tightly. Maurice disappeared over the passenger seat and Anna tried to keep an eye on his manoeuvres through the rear-view mirror.
‘Maurice!’ She was trying to keep one eye on the cat and the other on the road.
Maurice appeared at her headrest on cue but after a brief sniff he quickly disappeared. At the next set of lights Anna turned around to see what he was doing. Inside the small car it was even more apparent that Maurice was a lot bigger than the average cat. He had his paws on the glass and was rubbernecking at the cars queued next to them, in a similar way to how he was at the rescue centre. The people in the car next to them did a double take when they saw the cat staring at them. The lights changed and they were off again. Maurice was keen to investigate the front of the car and slid down Anna’s side and became particularly interested in the pedals. Anna had to push him gently to the side for fear of an accident, but his response was to jump onto her lap, filling the space between her and the steering wheel. Anna could barely see over him and had to drive the last few minutes with a furry head checking the road ahead for her.
She pulled up into her designated parking space and once the engine was switched off she could hear Maurice purring; he was almost as loud as the engine had been. At least one of us is happy, she thought.
She gave him a tickle around his ear and he pushed his head hard into her hand. ‘Welcome home, Maurice.’ All she had to do now was work out how to get the large fluffy cat from the car to the flat.
Maurice was more relaxed on her lap so with one hand she manoeuvred the cardboard cat carrier nearer to her and opened the lid wide. She lifted Maurice up but as soon as he sussed what was happening he appeared to expand in all directions and started to wave his legs about wildly. Getting a large star-formation cat through the broken box lid was not going to happen.
A quick call to Sophie with a request for something she could use prompted Sophie’s arrival at the driver’s window a few minutes later with a sling-style baby carrier.
Anna buzzed the window down a fraction: she daren’t let it open fully in case he escaped. ‘Seriously?’ She nodded at the baby sling.
‘I figured transporting kids and pets was kind of similar.’ Sophie studied the harness and glanced inside at the large cat filling up more than half of the back seat. ‘He’s huge. You didn’t say it was a baby sabre-tooth.’
Anna shot a glance over her shoulder. ‘One of the volunteers thinks he’s a Maine Coon.’ Another American who’s got one over on me, she thought, uncharitably.
‘He looks like he’s mainlining steroids,’ said Sophie, waving the baby sling at her.
‘I couldn’t get him in a box, so I have no hope with that,’ said Anna. She didn’t want to distress Maurice any further. As if sensing something was afoot he retreated to the back parcel shelf and hunkered down.
‘Try this,’ said Sophie, feeding a large pillowcase through the gap in the window.
Anna held up the pillowcase; it had a giant picture of a pug’s face on it. The inappropriateness seemed lost on Sophie. Anna turned the picture of the dog away from Maurice.
‘Here,’ said Anna, passing Sophie her door keys. ‘You open up and I’ll …’ she lowered her voice ‘… bundle him up and make a dash inside.’
Anna needed to get in the back of the car but didn’t want to risk Maurice escaping so she daren’t get out of the car. Instead she squeezed herself slowly between the seats all the while uttering what she hoped were reassurances. Maurice watched her intently from the relative safety of the parcel shelf. She took a deep breath and, gripping the edge of the pillowcase, firmly swooped upon him and tried to scoop up the cat like a fisherman trapping his catch.
Maurice began to yowl and tried to reverse out of the pillowcase but Anna was already gathering up the ends and gripping them tightly together. She opened the car door and scrambled out holding up the squirming protesting bundle. Anna made a dash for the flats as Mrs Nowakowski came out wearing fluffy orange slippers. Maurice let out an ear-splitting cry and the older woman’s eyes pinged wide open like a bush baby.
‘Hello again,’ said Anna, holding on tight to the wriggling pillowcase as the pug face on the front distorted and bulged. ‘Sorry, I have to dash.’ She didn’t want to appear rude.
Mrs Nowakowski’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s but nothing came out. Sophie held the door open and Anna and the dissenting pillowcase shot inside.
Chapter Five
The next morning Anna left Maurice curled up on her most expensive cushion. He seemed to have claimed it during the night and she hadn’t had the heart to take it from him. He had spent most of the previous evening hiding under furniture, which probably wasn’t surprising given his pillowcase ordeal, but this morning he seemed calmer, if still a little wary. She’d left him food, water and a clean litter tray and locked him in. The rescue centre said he had to stay inside for at least three weeks – and preferably longer – so he knew where to return to when he was let out. Maurice was on her mind as she walked through the office, and up ahead she could see Sophie. Anna checked her watch, as it was unusually early for Sophie to be in.
‘Morning,’ said Anna, scanning the holiday chart on the wall and trying to work out whose desk might be free for her to squat at today.
‘Hi,’ said Sophie, giving her a shifty glance.
Anna paid attention to what Sophie was doing. ‘Are you moving desks?’
‘It’s temporary so Hudson and I can be together. Sit together,’ she hastily corrected.
‘Just be careful, Sophe,’ said Anna. She didn’t trust Hudson and Sophie seemed to be getting hooked in very fast.
Anna settled herself down in a nearby desk and moved the usual occupant’s clutter to one side. Really, who kept a potato clock and a pink toy troll on their desk? She had a friendly email from a member of her old team, which she replied to, and told her about Maurice. Anna opened up a new email and added in the names for the board and all senior people on the programme. She and Karl had made good headway on the project scope and she wanted to share that work ahead of
the big meeting they had later. Her friend sent a message demanding a picture of Maurice. Anna was happy to oblige as she’d already taken quite a few of him looking rather handsome curled up on that cushion. She sent them from her phone to her work email address, copied the pictures over and pressed paste as she was interrupted by Hudson.
‘Anna, did you say you were issuing the deliverables paper first thing?’ he asked, his tone reasonable but the words instantly making Anna feel defensive.
‘I’m literally sending it now,’ she said, as she huffily stabbed at the send button. In the very same millisecond her brain registered what she was sending and where. ‘Nooooo!’
She had attached the many pictures of Maurice to the deliverables email and now it was zapping its way through the ether to all the great and the good on the programme.
‘What’s up?’ asked Hudson.
‘I’ve sent …’ Anna couldn’t believe what she’d done. It felt like her stomach had dropped to her toes and bounced back up again. She ran her palms down her face. ‘Wrong email …’ Her fingers jabbed at the keyboard; embarrassment swamped her. She’d never live this down. She tried to remember how to recall messages. ‘Nightmare …’
‘Anna? What is it?’ His voice was surprisingly gentle.
He would think she was a total idiot but there was no point in lying – he was on the distribution list too. She swallowed hard. ‘I’ve sent pictures of my cat to almost everyone on the programme.’
His eyebrows jumped but he recovered his expression quickly. ‘Budge up,’ he said, shoving her wheelie chair and making her collide with Sophie like an errant bumper car. His fingers whizzed across the keys as her heart thumped at an unnatural speed. She’d never done anything quite so stupid before. There was the time she left her egg salad on a sunny windowsill and went to a workshop, stinking out the office … but this beat that hands down.
Hudson stood up straight. ‘Okay. Recalled successfully—’
‘Thank you so much,’ said Anna, relief swamping her.
‘—with the exception of Roberta. She’s already opened the email,’ he added, wincing and scrunching up his shoulders as if waiting to be thumped.
A Walk in Wildflower Park Page 4
