Take a Moment

by Nina Kaye

  ‘This all right?’ Emmanuel asks me. ‘They do great coffee and delicious toasted panettone.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful.’

  We enter the warmly lit cafe. It’s certainly very inviting, with its shelves of authentic Italian produce, and wide selection of Italian-style cakes and pastries arranged beautifully in the glass counter by the bar. Emmanuel leads me to a small table in the far corner, away from the smattering of customers further towards the front, and we get ourselves settled.

  ‘Let’s get our order in and then we can chat properly.’ Emmanuel hands me a menu. ‘I’m going to have coffee and panettone. Have whatever you like. This is on me.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no need for that,’ I protest lightly. ‘I can get it.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ She holds up an instructive finger, which seems a little at odds with her kind and bubbly demeanour. ‘This is my way of welcoming you to the team.’

  As this is my first proper encounter with my new manager, I decide it’s best not to get into an unnecessary bickering match over the bill.

  ‘OK, if you’re sure. Thank you, that’s very kind. I’ll just have a small skinny cappuccino, thanks.’

  ‘And to eat?’

  ‘Nothing for me, thanks.’

  ‘Now, Alex, I hope you’re not declining out of politeness.’ She cocks her head a little.

  ‘I’m not. I promise. I’m just trying to live a bit more healthily these days.’

  ‘All right then. That I can understand, even if I don’t abide by it myself.’ She chuckles at her own joke and I follow suit, already won over by her easygoing demeanour.

  The waiter appears to take our order, which Emmanuel delivers on our behalf. He then disappears behind the bar to make our coffees.

  ‘So, tell me, how was your trip down?’ she asks me. ‘Are you all settled into your new apartment?’

  ‘Yes, that’s me sorted. Give or take a couple of boxes of stuff I’m wondering why I kept.’

  ‘That’s always the way. My husband accuses me of being a hoarder but I don’t see him complaining when I magically produce something he needs in the moment. Selective grumbling, I call it.’

  ‘Sounds very apt.’ I laugh, pleased that my new boss is so open and friendly.

  ‘Are you all settled in your new place? Finding your way around all right?’

  ‘Yes and yes. The city centre is nice and compact, which makes it easy to navigate.’

  ‘That’s good. And your move went well?’

  ‘Very smooth. The removal people even left me some food so I didn’t have to go straight out to the shops when I arrived.’

  ‘That was kind of them. What a lovely touch.’

  We pause our conversation as the waiter delivers our drinks and Emmanuel’s panettone. I immediately regret not ordering some myself. The sweet, bready aroma wafts into my nostrils and my stomach grumbles in annoyance at having only been fed fresh fruit for breakfast.

  ‘Would you like some?’ Emmanuel spots my look of longing.

  ‘Oh, no. Sorry, it’s just the smell. It’s wonderful.’ I can tell I’m not fooling her one bit.

  ‘Here.’ She plonks one of her three slices onto her unused napkin and places it beside my coffee cup. ‘One piece won’t do you any harm. You’ll need the energy. First week of a new job is always tiring.’

  I realise she’s spot on. I should have thought of that myself and allowed myself a little more breakfast fuel. There’s healthy living and there’s practically starving myself, like I was doing in the run-up to the wedding (I’ve now admitted to myself), and I’m not sure I’ve found the right balance yet.

  ‘OK, thanks. You’re right. I feel bad taking yours, though.’

  ‘Not at all.’ She sips at her coffee ‘You’ve done me a favour. I always feel guilty after the third slice.’

  ‘Sounds a bit like a win-win then.’

  ‘It definitely is. So, shall we get on to some work stuff then?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ I sit forward enthusiastically as I take a bite of panettone, which tastes like fluffy, buttery heaven. ‘I’m looking forward to getting stuck in.’

  ‘Great. The team are looking forward to meeting you. Most of them are in meetings all morning, but I’ve arranged for us to go for lunch today as a bit of a welcome. Hope that’s all right with you?’ She involuntarily glances at the panettone on the napkin in front of me.

  ‘That’s absolutely fine. Honestly, I’m not obsessed with healthy eating. Or if I am, I’ve just realised I need to stop it. Right now.’

  Emmanuel laughs at my self-deprecation. ‘That’s great. We thought we’d go for Thai.’

  ‘Perfect. I love Thai food. Thanks for doing this.’

  ‘All part of helping you settle in. Building relationships and feeling part of the team is just as important as understanding the organisation and the work.’

  I beam like a lighthouse as Emmanuel takes me through the company background, structure and where my role fits in. Despite knowing about my MS, she hasn’t led with that. She has treated me like any other new employee: someone with great potential, who simply needs the knowledge and tools to do the job. We talk about everything but my medical situation, to the point that I wonder if it’s even going to come up.

  ‘One last thing before we head over and meet the team…’ Emmanuel wipes some rogue panettone crumbs from her chin. ‘…let’s have a very quick chat about your medical situation – if you don’t mind?’

  Despite all the reassurances I’ve received, I stiffen slightly. Not because I don’t trust Emmanuel – I’ve seen no reason not to so far – but because I’ve become so hypersensitised to being treated differently, this reaction is now automatic. Although I try to hide it by taking a mouthful of my cappuccino, Emmanuel picks up on it immediately.

  ‘If you’d rather not talk about it just now, that’s absolutely fine, Alex. We can do it whenever you’re ready.’

  I silently curse myself for allowing this weakness to show through. I used to think I’d be a great poker player because of how easily I could let things bounce off me. Now, I realise, I’d be fleeced for every penny in the first game.

  ‘No, it’s fine, honestly.’ I attempt as genuine a smile as possible. ‘Let’s cover it off now.’

  ‘All right then…’ Emmanuel seems to consider her words very carefully. ‘Alex, I want to start with some reassurance. We recruit through New Horizons for a reason – and that reason is that we believe a truly great workplace only comes from having a diverse workforce. Ethical standards and seeing people as people are at the very heart of our operation. As you know, New Horizons specialises in finding the right fit for experienced professionals who have a long-term illness or disability that doesn’t affect their ability to do a great job – they just need a more flexible and supportive environment in which to do it.’

  ‘They’re really great.’ I nod. ‘I never once felt there was a focus on my medical situation.’

  ‘Which means they’re doing their job just as they should. And we will do ours. All I want to do today is review the arrangements we agreed when we were discussing your contract, and check that you haven’t thought of anything else we should consider. That’s it. Everything else will be managed as normal.’

  ‘OK, sure. Sounds good.’ I feel genuine relief on hearing this.

  ‘Great. Now, you’re working five days a week – two from home, and you’ll also work from home on an ad hoc basis where you feel you need to. Regarding sickness absence, we understand the relapsing-remitting nature of your condition may mean you have more regular periods of absence, and some that may be a bit extended. We accept that and we will arrange cover as required.’

  ‘This almost seems too good to be true.’

  Emmanuel looks at me sincerely. ‘Sadly, in some ways it is, if you think about the UK workplace as a whole. But slowly, we are becoming less of an exception.’

  ‘I think your approach is amazing. The one thing it doesn’t help me with, though, is
me.’ I chuckle briefly, then turn serious as the memories flood back. ‘I experienced a lot of guilt and frustration when I was off previously. I’m really driven, and not being able to do my job was like someone had tied my hands behind my back.’

  ‘It must be very difficult for you having to face physical limitations in a way you never have before; I could see from your CV that you’re a go-getter. Let’s just keep talking, and when the time comes, I’ll help you in any way I can.’

  I flinch a little at the use of the term ‘when the time comes’. It’s a frank and certain statement – too much so for my liking. But I’d be kidding myself if I used the word ‘if’ – it’s inevitable I’ll have another relapse; I just have no idea when it will be. On top of that, it’s been explained to me how my more permanent symptoms can worsen under some circumstances, such as from colds and viral infections, or extreme stress and pressure.

  ‘Is that all right with you, Alex?’ Emmanuel prompts me.

  I drag my mind back to the moment. ‘Sorry, yes. That works for me.’

  ‘Good. Just one final thing. As per your request, no one but myself, Sally, the HR consultant who also interviewed you, and the occupational health doctor is aware of your situation. It is completely confidential, and that situation will only change should you wish it to.’

  ‘That’s really important to me.’ I look her straight in the eye to accentuate this point. ‘So, thank you.’

  ‘I know it is. Now, shall we head back to the office?’

  Chapter 12

  Back in the main reception of my new office, Emmanuel signs for my staff pass, which is there waiting for me, then we head for the office. As the lift doors ping open on the ninth floor, we’re met by a long bright corridor with opaque glass walls separating us from the workspaces on the other side. Emmanuel leads me to an office suite with the company’s name and logo proudly displayed at the door.

  I follow Emmanuel across the office space where there are about a hundred and fifty desks in total and a sea of people looking very busy.

  ‘This is your desk.’ She stops at a bank of six desks and pats the back of one of the chairs, right beside the window, overlooking Brindley Place. ‘And this is your laptop.’ She picks up a smart-looking HP laptop and hands it to me.

  ‘Great.’ I take a few steps forward so I can see out the window, down to the plaza below. ‘Nice view. I’ll enjoy sitting here.’

  ‘Bagged yourself a window seat.’ A female voice comes from behind me. ‘Who did you have to pay to get that?’

  I turn and find myself face to face with a woman about my age. She has honey-blond hair that cascades down to her elbows and piercing blue eyes that look almost feline. She’s very pretty in a sharp way. Even though her comment was obviously intended as a joke, there’s something a bit cold and icy about her; like there’s just a hint of resentment.

  I decide the safest approach is to engage with the joke. ‘It wasn’t too expensive. I’ll still afford my groceries this month.’

  ‘That’s funny,’ she says in a voice that suggests it’s nothing of the sort. ‘I’m Danielle. I’m on the project team. You must be Alex?’

  ‘That’s right.’ I extend my hand. ‘Nice to meet you, Danielle.’

  ‘Likewise.’ She shakes my hand, smiling brightly, but her eyes fail to join the party, leaving me in no doubt as to the insincerity of the gesture.

  I’ve come across people like Danielle over recent years, so I know that I can trust my instincts screaming at me. What I need to work out next is, can I win her over enough to have a productive working relationship, or is she just going to be bloody hard work?

  ‘I’m off to get a coffee, Emmanuel,’ she chirrups in a voice that’s sweeter than syrup. ‘Want anything?’

  ‘I’m fine for now, thanks,’ Emmanuel replies.

  ‘No probs.’

  Danielle stalks off in her skyscraper-heeled shoes, making sure everyone sees her as she goes.

  Emmanuel says to me in a low voice, ‘Confidentially, it may be helpful for you to know that Danielle went for your job when it was first advertised internally. She was unsuccessful and hasn’t taken it very well. Her father is a friend of the chief exec, but the chief exec doesn’t make the hiring decisions at this level.’

  ‘Thanks so much for the heads-up. That will make it easier for me to manage the situation – though I do have some empathy. It’s never nice to not be successful for a job. But nobody should have a sense of entitlement, just because of who they know.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Emmanuel nods solemnly. ‘I think you and I are going to get along very well, Alex.’

  ‘Me too.’ I grin at her. ‘And don’t worry about me and Danielle, I’ve dealt with similar behaviours quite successfully before.’

  ‘I have absolutely no doubt about that.’

  * * *

  By the time lunchtime comes round, I’m bleary-eyed from reading the company intranet pages and working my way through the mandatory (and extraordinarily boring) e-learning modules.

  ‘Are you ready for a break?’ Emmanuel gets up from her seat.

  ‘Am I ever.’ I blink several times to adjust my focus from the blocks of text swimming in front of my eyes to the wider office environment again.

  ‘Is that lunchtime already?’ Danielle lifts her head from the screeds of data she’s been poring over on her screen. ‘I’ve barely had a moment to breathe this morning.’

  Apart from the twenty-minute coffee stop and the extensive (and surprisingly loud) bitchfest with another colleague over by the printer, I think to myself.

  ‘You’re obviously being very productive.’ I smile at her, still willing to make an effort to build a relationship nonetheless. ‘I’m glad to have such a dedicated project analyst on the team.’

  ‘I’m a senior analyst,’ she corrects me in her sweet but poisonous tone.

  ‘Right, of course. My apologies. Not yet fully familiar with the project structure.’

  ‘Shall we?’ Emmanuel gestures towards the lifts, giving me a subtle ‘don’t worry about it at all’ look.

  The three of us take the lift down to the ground floor, then wander across the plaza in the sunshine. It’s remarkably warm for September but I’m unsure whether this is normal now I’m living that bit further south.

  ‘I love these water features,’ I comment, as we make our way along the landscaped path between them. ‘Reminds me of holidays spent in France when I was young.’

  ‘You like France?’ Danielle’s ears prick up. ‘Me too. My family spent most of our summers there.’

  ‘Really? We stayed on the campsites. Keycamp, Eurocamp, that kind of thing. We visited so many different parts of France. It was amazing freedom as a kid. Did you do the same?’

  Danielle raises an eyebrow. ‘No. We stayed in a villa.’

  ‘Ah, right.’ I nod, understanding. ‘My family considered hiring a gîte one year, but we just loved the outdoor lifestyle of the campsites too much.’

  As I say this, a memory of happier times spent with my family pops into my head. A time when my parents were still together. Before my mother became so bitter and judgemental following the death of her brother and drove my dad to divorce – and then a stroke ripped him from our lives altogether.

  ‘Yeah… we didn’t hire villas, we owned one.’ Danielle tries to sound nonchalant but her face is leaking an unapologetic air of superiority. ‘In St Tropez. We went twice a year.’

  I let out an impressed whistle, keen to keep Danielle talking to understand more about her. ‘Gosh, lucky you. That pales my holidays into complete insignificance. Rubbing shoulders with celebrities, were you?’ This last statement is intended as a joke.

  ‘There were a few around that my pops knew.’ She shrugs. ‘So, are you a French speaker then, Alex? Parlez-vous français?’

  She’s challenging me. But I’m not going to engage in a game of one-upping. I’m happy for the mine-is-bigger-than-yours behaviour to remain entirely one-sided.

 
‘Oh… no. My French is terrible.’

  Danielle seems satisfied with my response. I can tell that, in her head, it’s now one–nil to her.

  We reach Thai Paradise, a culinary sanctuary of peace and tranquillity with its babbling water feature just inside the entrance, Thai-inspired interior decoration, and zen-like woodwind tones floating down from the wall-mounted speakers. Danielle struts ahead of us, keen to join her teammates at the table, and quite possibly to see if she can assemble the front line her way ahead of my arrival. Emmanuel hangs back and gives me a curious look.

  ‘That was an interesting conversation. I’m sure I remember languages featuring on your CV, and in particular your semi-fluency in French. Thought it would come in handy in dealing with the Paris office.’

  ‘Is that right? Must have slipped my mind.’

  Emmanuel smiles at me. ‘You’re right not to get into all that. It’s only day one and you’re impressing me already, Alex.’

  I’m pleased with this early feedback, but decide there’s no need to say anything. I simply return her smile and approach the table and its occupants, at whom Danielle is already talking animatedly. I’m relieved to see that none of the others look too heavily engaged with her.

  ‘Everyone, this is Alex,’ Emmanuel announces as we reach the table.

  ‘Hi.’ I give them a friendly wave, which is immediately mirrored by all, except Danielle.

  As I look around at the Birmingham-based part of my new project team, I feel quite encouraged. There’s five of them, including Danielle: two men who look around my age or slightly younger and two who look like they’re in their late forties or early fifties.

  ‘I’ll do the introductions,’ says Emmanuel. ‘This is Felix, Dhruv, John and Aadesh.’

  I nod round the table at each of my new colleagues, knowing I’ll never remember their names straight off.

  ‘It’s so great to meet you all.’ I smile my most warm and open smile at them.

  ‘Felix is the change manager on the project,’ says Emmanuel. ‘He’ll be working closely with you to make sure people are ready for the new ways of working. Isn’t that right, Felix?’