by Daniel Hurst
‘He looks like Soppy Simon,’ Dad suddenly says, pointing at the TV at the actor on screen.
I have no idea who Soppy Simon is, but I assume it is one of my father’s old work colleagues because he often references people from the bank who were there before my time.
‘Why did you call him Soppy Simon?’
‘Why do you think? Because he was soppy!’
I smile at Dad’s simple explanation.
‘And he looks like Rat Boy,’ he says, pointing at the TV again at another unfortunate actor who has now reminded my Dad of the past.
I laugh at the nickname but still have no idea who this person is either.
‘Don’t tell me. You called him Rat Boy because he looked like a rat?’
‘Exactly,’ Dad says.
‘That’s not very kind though, is it?’
My father shrugs. ‘Everybody had a nickname back then. That’s just the way it was.’
‘What was yours?’
I already know the answer to this, but I’m asking him anyway because it’s a good way of testing his memory.
‘I was the Godfather,’ he says with a big grin on his face.
‘Yes, you were,’ I say, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the head.
We sit in silence for a few more minutes until the episode ends, and then I suggest we open the curtains and maybe go for a walk around the gardens.
‘Okay,’ Dad says with a shrug, easing himself up from the chair. ‘But we have to be quick. Your mother will go mad if she finds out I’ve been out without her.’
I smile as I lead Dad to the doorway. Even in his state and even after Mum has long since passed, there is still a part of him that lives in fear of doing something to annoy the woman he married. I guess that is a fear that is ingrained in all married men, and it must never leave them. I wonder if Evan is always thinking that way, worrying about doing something wrong to incur my wrath.
It’s good to feel the warm sunlight on my skin as I hold my father’s hand and walk out onto the terrace, where the view of the gardens is even more magnificent than the last time I was here. This really is a beautiful home, and while it is costing me a metaphorical arm and a leg in fees – which I am barely covering at the moment, only thanks to a generous payment plan I had to almost beg the owner of this place for – I have to admit it is worth it. Since coming here, my father has settled in well, thanks to the endeavours of all the staff, who work around the clock to make sure every resident is well looked after. I know Dad won’t get better and ever leave this place, but it is comforting to know that he is in good hands and able to spend his last few years in such pleasant surroundings. But I won’t be able to afford this place for much longer unless I get a steep rise in my salary, and that’s what I’m hoping for when Michael is dismissed. With him gone, I can take his job and his bigger wage, and not only will his days of tormenting me be over, but I will no longer have to worry about being able to keep my father in the care he requires.
As we walk across the lawn, my mind drifts back to Michael and the uncertainty about how long it will take for him to be removed from his position. When he is, I expect to be the one to take his job, and that will mean I have finally emulated my father, who held the same job for so long back when he was in his prime.
When he was the Godfather.
Workplace culture has moved on a lot since his day, and nicknames are much less common now that HR policies are stricter and people can lose their jobs over one ill-advised joke or one silly piece of gossiping in the kitchen. These days, there are no Soppy Simons, Rat Boys, or Godfathers. Everybody is too worried about offending somebody to risk giving out names like that. But Dad comes from a simpler time when people spoke their minds, and maybe that was easier. It certainly has to be easier than how things get done now, what with all the sneaking around, the backstabbing, and the whispering behind closed doors. Or should I say, the hidden cameras, the password hacking and the ‘editing’ of spreadsheets to suggest false behaviour.
‘How is work, dear?’ Dad suddenly asks me as we pause beneath the branches of a large sycamore tree halfway down the garden. ‘Is being the boss as tough as I remember it?’
I take a second to answer him because I know how important his increasingly rare periods of lucidity are. He used to ask me about work all the time, but it’s been a while since the last time, and one day, he will stop asking altogether. That’s why I need to make the most of these conversations while I still have the chance.
‘It’s fine, Dad,’ I say as the wind blows gently and sways the leaves above our heads. I’m playing along with his belief that I am the manager at the bank and not actually still stuck below that level because I know how important it is to him to think that his daughter has achieved what he achieved in his own career.
‘That’s good, dear,’ my father says, turning to give me a hug. ‘I’m very proud of you.’
I notice the tears in his eyes as he says the words, and my heart melts. All he ever wanted was for me to follow in his footsteps and be the boss. And after what I have just done, I feel like I have never been closer to making that happen than I am right now.
22
Another slow week has passed without any developments in my plan to bring down Michael, but something is afoot today because I have just walked into the office, and he isn’t at his desk. That is strange because I know we are due to have a team meeting in five minutes with several other colleagues, and he has never missed one of them before.
‘Where’s Michael?’ I ask my co-worker Samantha as I pass her desk on the way to my own.
‘He’s in with HR,’ she tells me with a serious look on her face. ‘Something big is happening, but I’m not sure what it is.’
I stop walking suddenly, realising that this must be the day when the seeds I planted a few weeks ago finally begin to shoot up.
‘How do you know something’s happening?’
‘Because he was just screaming and shouting at the office junior, and I’ve never seen him that angry. Then we’ve been told this morning’s meeting is cancelled. I’m telling you, something big is going on.’
It’s hard to disguise the excitement that is bubbling up inside me, but I do my best job of it as I head to my desk and take my seat. It sounds like Michael is stressed and has lost his temper, which is very unlike him and leads me to think that Samantha is right. Something is happening, and it can only be one thing.
His future at the bank is now under threat, and he is fighting for his job.
How I wish I could be a fly on the wall in that HR office right now.
Alas, I am not, so I will just have to be patient for a little while longer and let things play out as they are supposed to before I know for sure that my plan has been a success and Michael is no longer a factor in my life. Or at least that’s what I think until I hear a door open behind me and hear my name being called across the office.
‘Imogen, can you come in here, please?’
I spin around and look at Katherine standing in the doorway of her office with a tense expression on her face, and it’s enough to make my heart skip a beat.
Why does she want to see me? Why does she sound so on edge?
Is it because she knows what I have done and I’m going to be the one losing my job today instead of Michael?
‘Er, yeah. Sure,’ I say as I reluctantly get to my feet and make my way towards her.
My legs are like jelly as I move through the office, and I can feel the eyes of all my colleagues following me as I go, all of them no doubt wondering what is going on this morning and most likely only seconds away from speculating about it as soon as the door to the HR office closes again.
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask Katherine as I reach her in the doorway.
‘No, it’s not,’ she replies, and she leaves it at that as she turns and goes back inside, making me feel even more nervous as I follow her in, still no wiser about what is happening. But it’s clear that this isn’t good, and
I feel even worse when I see the person sitting opposite Katherine’s desk in here.
It’s Michael.
And he is smiling at me.
At that moment, I feel like the game is up and my plan has been foiled. I don’t know how it has happened, but they must have figured out it was me who changed Michael’s report and made it look like he had been tricking the company. Why else would I be called into HR today, and why else would Michael be grinning at me like a Cheshire cat? But I notice that he smiles at me only while Katherine’s back is turned, and his expression becomes much more serious when she takes her seat and faces his direction again. That makes me feel even worse because it’s clear he is toying with me and most likely wanting me to know that he has won again.
But how could he have?
I feel as fragile as a feather as I take a seat beside Michael in front of our HR manager and prepare to learn my fate.
‘We have a problem,’ Katherine tells me, and she can say that again. My hands are gripping the arms of this chair, and it seems the room is spinning. All it will take is for her to tell me that the police are on their way to arrest me for fraud, and I think I’ll be sick all over her desk.
‘Some discrepancies have been found in the monthly financial reports, and Head Office has been investigating,’ she goes on, and I grit my teeth as I wait for her to accuse me of causing those discrepancies.
‘Oh?’ is all I can muster at this point.
‘That investigation has led back to one person, and it’s obvious that this person has been trying to benefit at bonus time by making themselves appear to be doing a better job than they are.’
What?
‘That person is Helen.’
‘Excuse me?’ I reply, feeling as if I am choking as I speak.
‘The result of the investigation has proved that Helen is responsible for the discrepancies. As the finance manager, she would obviously have had ample opportunity to do such a thing.’
I look at Michael, horrified at what I am hearing and needing to see his reaction to all of this. But he remains as good an actor as ever, looking pensive and remaining calm.
‘Helen wouldn’t do such a thing. There must be a mistake,’ I try, but the two people in the room with me shake their heads.
‘There is no mistake,’ Michael chips in. ‘Helen has broken the rules, and now she has been caught.’
I can’t believe this. Is this really happening? Is he really going after Helen, a woman who has done nothing wrong? Why? I can only think that it’s because he found out what I did and twisted it to make it look like the finance manager had done wrong instead.
‘No, this can’t be right. Helen is good at her job. She loves it here. She wouldn’t do anything to risk that.’
‘I understand that this is a shock, but I’m afraid it’s the truth,’ Katherine tells me, looking very sorry about this whole situation.
‘No, it can’t be! She wouldn’t do this! She has a family. A husband. Two young kids. She wouldn’t do something to risk her job.’
‘I understand that the pair of you are close, and this must be hard to hear, but the evidence is damning and left us with very little choice but to terminate her employment here.’
‘No!’ I cry, jumping up from my seat.
I see the shock on Katherine’s face at my passionate defence of my apparently guilty colleague, but I have to do something. I cannot let Helen take the blame for this. I am the one who did it, and while I’m not going to admit to that, I cannot stand by and let somebody else take the fall for that, and certainly not my best friend in this office.
‘You can’t get rid of her!’
‘I’m afraid we already have.’
‘Where is she? I need to speak to her!’
‘She has been told not to come in, and her things will be sent to her in due course.’
‘This isn’t right.’
‘What do you mean?’
Katherine’s question is a good one, and she waits intently for my answer, but of course, I cannot give her a proper one. I know it, and the man sitting in the chair beside me knows it too.
Michael has won again. He has somehow figured out what I have done, and he has not only managed to save himself from punishment but find a way of inflicting punishment on me, only this time, he has gone a step further and punished a completely innocent bystander too.
‘I know this is your office, Katherine, but would you mind if I had a word with Imogen in private?’ Michael asks the HR manager, and she agrees before picking up an empty cup from her desk and leaving the room.
No sooner has the door closed than I turn to face Michael, and he stands to face me.
I’m glad the door is closed, and we are alone now.
That’s because we are going to be having one hell of an argument.
23
‘So that was quite the stunt you pulled there,’ Michael begins with that trademark smirk plastered all over his face. ‘Bravo on getting my password. I’ll have to come up with a new one now, I guess.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I try, but it’s a feeble attempt at lying, and it is deservedly shot down quickly.
‘The camera in my office. The staying in the office late to log in to my system. The manipulating of the figures so it would look like I had been making silly mistakes that you hoped would lead to my dismissal. You have been busy, haven’t you?’
I want to scream or shout or throw something at him, anything that will allow me to vent some of the fury that is bubbling up inside me and leaving me feeling like I could blow like Mount St Helens. But I’m confused as to how Michael knows what I have done. I was so careful. I was clever. I thought I finally had the upper hand.
‘You want to know how I knew, don’t you?’ he says, still smirking and still winning.
I nod my head, words failing me at this moment in time.
‘Let’s just say you’re not the first person to put a hidden camera in my office,’ Michael says, and he reaches into his pocket to show me a small camera not too dissimilar to the one I used to learn his password. ‘I put this in there a few months ago when I was worried about you trying to pull a stunt like this one. It’s a good job I did, isn’t it?’
‘You were watching me?’
‘I was protecting myself, which is only sensible given our relationship. I’m just surprised it took you this long to do something like this.’
‘That night you came back to the office. Did you know I was under your desk?’
‘What do you think?’
I can’t believe this. Even when I think I got a small victory over him, it turns out that I didn’t. But it’s not just about me and my problems now.
‘You can’t pin this on Helen,’ I tell him, hoping there is a scrap of decency still left in this man somewhere. ‘It’s not her fault.’
‘It has to be pinned on someone. You must have known that when you did it. You tried to make it look like I had made a mistake, but a little correcting on my part, and now it looks like Helen has done something even worse than that. She has been stealing.’
‘This can’t be happening!’
Michael laughs, and I’m glad one of us finds this funny.
‘Come on, Imogen. You know you’re going to have to do a lot more than that to get rid of me. I like your imagination on this one, but you need to think bigger. I’m trying to help you here.’
I want to hit him and keep hitting him until I wipe that stupid smirk off his face. But I can’t. Having Michael leave this room with bruises on his face would only make my situation worse, not better. Once again, he has me beaten.
‘How did you get away with this?’ I ask him, having tried to figure it out myself but failed.
‘You should know that I’m a very resourceful man. There isn’t much I can’t do around here.’
‘But how did you put this on Helen? I don’t understand.’
‘She’s the finance manager, silly. If she isn’t responsible for discr
epancies in a financial report, then I don’t know who is. Everything has to go across her desk at some point, doesn’t it?’
‘Please don’t do this to her. What about her family? She needs this job.’
‘It’s too late. Her employment has already been terminated. I guess you have one less friend around this place now.’
I have to get out of this room because I’m going to do something I’ll regret if I don’t. But just before I can open the door, Michael shoots out an arm and prevents me from getting any further.
‘Joking aside, this was a very serious thing that you did, and there will be serious repercussions. I’m talking a lot more than just your friend losing her job.’
I have no doubt that Michael means what he is saying, and I dread to think what he could possibly do to me now that he knows there is very little I won’t try to get rid of him. It feels like he has already made my life as bad as it could possibly be, but I wouldn’t put it past him to come up with even more ingenious ways to make things miserable for me. Perhaps I’ll look back on all the overtime and unrealistic deadlines with fondness because they might end up being the good old days.
Whatever could come next doesn’t bear thinking about.
Michael moves his arm, allowing me to make my escape, and I don’t waste the opportunity, leaving the HR office and pacing across the carpet back towards my desk, where I grab my phone from my handbag and use it to find Helen’s number. I need to call my friend and see if she is okay. She can never know that it was me who played a part in her losing her job, but I still need to check on her and offer my support, as gut-wrenching as it will be to have to listen to her tell me all about her fears and money troubles now.
