The Promotion: A psychological thriller with a killer twist

by Daniel Hurst

  All of a sudden, a hush falls over the room, and I turn to look at the doorway that several of my colleagues have already swivelled their heads in the direction of. And then I see him striding into the room with his shoulders rolled back, his head held high, and an aura about him that always used to make me feel impressed but now just makes me feel anxious. He looks calm and composed, as if he hasn’t just got off a plane from New York and come straight here in a taxi to talk to us all. Then again, I know he will have travelled in first class, and after experiencing a brief taste of that high life for myself, I am aware how much easier it can make the whole international commuting thing for an employee.

  I keep my eyes on Alastair as he walks to the front of the room, as do the rest of the colleagues I am sitting amongst, and he seems to enjoy drinking in the attention and the awe, because it takes him a while before he actually starts speaking to tell us why he is here.

  ‘Good afternoon. Does everybody know who I am, or do I need to give anybody an introduction?’

  There is laughter around the room, or at least from everywhere except my seat, where I sit stock-still and keep my eyes on Alastair. Maybe I would have found his opening gambit amusing a few weeks ago. In fact, I am sure I would have done because he has opened with it before, and it’s become a trademark of his, but not now. Despite what the rest of the people in this room might think about him, I know there is much more to this man than the smile, the suit, and the smug jokes suggest.

  ‘I’m sorry to keep you all from your desks, where I know you would much rather be right now,’ Alastair goes on, and he gets a few more titters from this easy audience, who are lapping up the sarcasm. ‘But thanks for taking the time out because I have a very important announcement to make.’

  The hush returns to the room, and nobody is laughing now, probably because they have seen the serious expression on Alastair’s face and are worrying about what it could mean.

  Is there a problem with the bank? Have we lost money? Are we going to lose staff?

  I imagine that those are just some of the thoughts going through the minds of my colleagues as they all sit here and wait to hear what is coming next. But unlike them, I am not worried about anything like that because I have a feeling it has nothing to do with the bank’s profitability or lack thereof, nor will it be about any potential cutbacks or redundancies because those things are rare at a bank like this. Instead, I think I know exactly what this is going to be about. It is going to be about me. And how do I know that? Because Alastair is looking right at me, and now he is struggling to keep the grin off his face.

  ‘As I’m very well aware, this has been a difficult time for this branch recently after the tragic loss of your leader, Michael, not so long ago. Michael was a very valued colleague, but he was also a good friend of mine, and I’m sure he was a good friend to many of you too. I would just like to thank you all for your continued dedication and service to the company during this testing time, and I want you to know that it has not gone unnoticed.’

  The tension noticeably drops in the room as everybody relaxes a little now that they believe this isn’t going to be bad news after all. But I’m not relaxed. I’m still gripping the arms of my chair as tightly as I was a moment ago, and that’s because Alastair is looking at me again with that smile. It’s the same satisfied smile he had on his face when he told me what he really thought of me in New York. Now he is showing it to me again, and that cannot be a good sign.

  ‘But there is one person in this office in particular who has worked extremely hard during this difficult time, and that person is now going to be rewarded with a new position in the company.’

  Everybody whispers amongst themselves as to who this person might be, but I don’t engage in any speculation because I already have a good feeling about the identity of that person.

  ‘Imogen Stone, congratulations, you are now the new general manager of the Hong Kong branch. Give it up for Imogen.’

  Alastair claps his hands together loudly, and that gets everyone else in the room to follow suit until I am almost being deafened by the applause ringing out around me. But while those people currently looking in my direction are all smiling and seemingly happy for me, I am most certainly not impressed.

  Hong Kong? What is he talking about? He’s sending me there?

  And then it makes sense. Of course he wants me to go there. It’s on the other side of the world. It’s a long way from the life I have built for myself here. My husband. My friends. My ailing father. This isn’t a reward, even if he has made it sound that way to everybody else here. This is just another in a long line of punishments, punishments that have been designed to wear me down and keep me down so that I never fight back and I never object.

  ‘Why don’t you come up here and say a few words, Imogen?’ Alastair says as he beckons me to join him at the front of the room, where I suspect he will take great pleasure in witnessing me try to pretend to be happy about this news that is designed to turn my life upside down. But as I slowly get to my feet and make my way to the front along the rows of clapping colleagues, I decide that I will say a few words.

  But they are not going to be the words he is expecting.

  42

  I’m surprised how long it takes for the applause to die down as I stand at the front of the conference room beside Alastair and look out at the sea of smiling faces. Everybody seems so happy for me, no doubt incorrectly assuming that the job in Hong Kong was something that I applied for and not just something that has been dropped on me as a way of making my life even more miserable. But I’ll wait for them to finish before I speak.

  It will be worth the wait, after all.

  As soon as the room is quiet again, I am going to say something that Alastair will not agree with, but I don’t care. Either I make a stand now, right here in this room beside my enemy, or I never will, and I’ll be living in Hong Kong before I know it, miles away from my father during the last period of his life. I don’t know what Alastair’s response to this will be, but I’m past the point of caring now.

  ‘Thanks, guys,’ I say as I am finally able to make myself heard. ‘And thank you, Alastair, for this very surprising news.’

  ‘Not at all, Imogen. You deserve it, and don’t try to make out like you don’t.’

  Alastair flashes me that grin again while his eyes scan my face and presumably try to detect how badly I am struggling to keep my hatred of him hidden. But I’m not trying to do that because I feel as if a sense of calm has come over me now that I have made my mind up about bringing a stop to this charade.

  I’m just about to speak when Alastair butts in and takes the floor for himself.

  ‘I’m sure many of you will know that Imogen has a long relationship with this bank, and it’s one that began with her father, William, who was of course the general manager here for almost thirty years, and whose painting now adorns the corridor just outside this meeting room.’

  The mention of my father reminds me that I still have the photo in my pocket, which I was planning on showing to Alastair after this meeting to try to elicit some sympathy from him regarding both my plight and the plight of the man he used to work under. But now he has brought up the subject, perhaps this is the time to do it instead.

  ‘But many of you might not know that Alastair actually worked closely with my father many years ago when he first joined the bank,’ I interject before my boss can speak again. ‘I actually have a photo from that time.’

  I reach into my trouser pocket and remove the photograph, noticing as I do that Alastair is no longer smiling.

  ‘Here is a picture of a very young Alastair back in the early eighties alongside my father and a few other dashing colleagues, who I’m not sure are still working here anymore. Perhaps you can enlighten us, Alastair?’

  I hand the photo to him, and he reluctantly takes it as everybody in the room watches on.

  ‘Do you remember this?’ I ask him, and it’s now my turn to try to read his emotio
ns behind the mask he is wearing.

  ‘Wow, you are going back a long time here,’ Alastair mumbles, and he scratches his designer stubble a little nervously, which is the first time I have ever seen this man acting awkwardly, suggesting that I might be taking him down a path that he isn’t comfortable going down.

  ‘I’m sure you can remember it,’ I lead him. ‘Why don’t you tell us what it was like to work with my father back then? Were the two of you close?’

  I’m expecting Alastair to start blabbing about some old memory or two that he has of that time, no doubt one that will shine him in a good light and potentially elicit a few laughs from our audience, and that will be fine. But he doesn’t do that. Instead, he shakes his head and goes very quiet.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask, but he doesn’t seem to hear it, and suddenly, the mood in the room is changing very quickly, and that’s before I’ve even said the thing that I was going to say to disappoint him.

  ‘Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just a long time ago. You’ll have to forgive me, but my recall isn’t as sharp for old memories as it is for financial deadlines.’

  That gets him a few laughs from around the room and eases some of the tension that seemed to be building before then.

  ‘I can’t think of any stories right now, Imogen. I’m sorry.’

  Alastair hands the photograph back to me and looks very sheepish, which makes me confused. What has turned this outgoing people-pleaser into a quiet and apologetic party-pooper? Never mind. Whatever it is, I’m not going to let it distract me from what I came up here to say.

  ‘As you all know and as Alastair just kindly reminded us all, my father used to be the general manager here. Sadly, he had to retire early on medical grounds. You see, my father has Alzheimer’s, and while he is battling valiantly, he is now in a nursing home and will require medical care for the rest of his life.’

  Nobody says a word as they all look at me with sorrowful expressions on their faces. Many of these people will have known William when he was in his prime, so it will no doubt have come as a bit of a shock to now be thinking of him as somebody in a nursing home with other elderly people who once flourished in life but have since started to succumb to the ravages of time, which is inevitable but still somehow surprising when it happens.

  ‘I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or for my father, who is a very proud man and who has many more years of life left in him yet, I’m sure,’ I say, feeling my eyes start to water but not allowing emotion to overcome me. ‘But I do want you to understand that it is because of my father’s health that I am going to have to politely turn down the role in Hong Kong and remain here in the UK, where I can be close to him and provide him with all the support he needs from his daughter.’

  There are a few gasps from various audience members, and a little bit of whispering ensues, no doubt from people who are shocked that I have just turned down the new job that Alastair has come all the way here to tell people about. But it’s Alastair’s reaction that I want to witness, so I turn to look at him and see that he is glaring at me, although he still has the presence of mind to quickly cover it up and make it seem like he is not as annoyed as he obviously is.

  ‘Oh, that is a shame,’ he says, but I bat my hand in the air as if to dismiss his words and instead let him know that he is not to worry about it.

  ‘I do apologise, but I cannot take any overseas role at this time. But thank you for the offer.’

  With that, I walk back to my seat, feeling pleased that I have managed to score a small victory over the man who is not accustomed to defeat. Just like I did with Michael in the meeting with HR, I have got a temporary win, and while I’m sure it won’t last long, I will enjoy it while I can, and I can certainly do that with so many other people around. What can Alastair do to me here with so many witnesses? Nothing. But I have a feeling that he is going to want to talk to me after this meeting, and that is fine by me because I have something I want to talk to him about too. I want to talk to him about the photo of him and my father, and most importantly, I want to see if he is going to back down over his vendetta against me. If not, I will be recording our conversation, and I will take it straight to an impartial third party immediately afterwards.

  If so, this will be the last day Alastair spends at this bank.

  It may also be my last too.

  I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

  43

  ‘Imogen, can I have a word, please?

  It didn’t take long for Alastair to ask to talk with me in private once the meeting had come to an end and I had turned down his ‘generous’ offer of a new job overseas.

  ‘Just one second, I really need to visit the ladies’ room,’ I say before following several of my colleagues out of the conference room and leaving Alastair waiting for me a little longer.

  I don’t need to use the toilet for the traditional reasons, but I want a little privacy while I set up my mobile phone to record my upcoming conversation with my boss.

  Entering the toilets, I quickly go into a vacant cubicle and lock the door before taking out my phone and opening the app that I know is the best for making recordings. I practised with it last night, so I know all I have to do is press the big red button in the centre of the screen, and it will capture any sounds near the phone until I turn it off again.

  As I stand in the cubicle and fiddle with my phone, I am reminded of the time I was in here looking at the secretive video footage I had obtained of Michael in his office. That was also the time when I dropped my phone and it rolled into the next cubicle Helen had been occupying, and the thought of my mistreated colleague makes me even more determined to get this right now.

  What was it Alastair said to describe what happened to her? Collateral damage?

  Well, let’s see how much damage I can cause today.

  With my phone definitely recording, I put it back into my trouser pocket and leave the toilets and head back in the direction of the conference room. When I re-enter it, I see that everybody has now gone except Alastair and Katherine, who are deep in conversation over in the corner. Katherine looks a little troubled, and I imagine it has something to do with the fact that Alastair just surprised her with trying to ship me off to Hong Kong. But I am sure he has a way of talking himself out of that one, and I sincerely hope so because I really don’t want Katherine hanging around for our conversation. If she does, I will have no chance of getting Alastair to speak openly about how he is purposely mistreating me, and if not, there is no point in me recording him. But thankfully, Alastair tells Katherine to give us a minute when he sees me enter the room.

  Katherine gives me a smile as she leaves, and I close the door behind her before silently telling myself that I need to do a good acting job now and not behave like someone who actually has the upper hand.

  ‘So, that was quite the stunt you pulled there,’ Alastair begins as he invites me to take a seat in one of the several empty chairs that fill most of this room. ‘And there was me thinking you would be thrilled to be given a promotion.’

  ‘You know I don’t want to go to Hong Kong,’ I say as I choose to remain standing. ‘That was not a promotion, at least not in the sense of it making my life better. You just wanted it to look that way.’

  ‘You will be taking that job and getting on that plane. One way or another, I will make it happen.’

  It’s clear that Alastair is riled up after I turned him down in front of the entire office, and that is a good omen for what I hope to capture on my mobile phone over the next few minutes.

  ‘You can’t make me do something I don’t want to,’ I say, deliberately leading him on to say something he will later regret.

  ‘You know that’s not true, Imogen. I can make you do anything I want, and I have been doing it for a very long time.’

  That’s a good start, but I know I need more so that there is no chance of him talking his way out of this when I play the conversation to HR shortly.

  ‘I’m not going to
let you keep getting away with treating me this way. It isn’t fair, and you know it.’

  ‘Lots of things are not fair, Imogen. Famine in Africa isn’t fair. House prices in London aren’t fair. And you getting an easy start at this company because of your father while everybody else had to earn it isn’t fair either.’

  I’m caught off guard by Alastair’s statement because, for the first time, I have a hint that all of this might just be about something more than my wrongdoing two years ago. Could it also stem from jealousy about how I got my place at this bank? I guess I should try to find out.

  ‘What has that got to do with anything? I started at the bottom here like everybody else,’ I say, and it’s the truth. ‘My father had no bearing on my progress. It was all down to me, and everyone knows it.’

  ‘Yeah, right. You believe that if it makes you feel better, but we all know the truth. You are here because of your family connections, not because you displayed any particular talent for working in this industry.’

  I’m seething at the accusation but do my best to keep calm for the purposes of the recording because I want him to be the one who cracks, not me.

  ‘Why does that bother you so much?’ I ask, turning it back on him. ‘Why does it affect you in any way? You’re the CEO. You’ve climbed higher than I have here. So what’s your problem?’

  I doubt Alastair has any idea that I am recording this, but he does exercise some restraint and chooses not to answer that question. So I try another one, and the idea for it comes from his surprising mention of my father giving me my start here.

  ‘You’ve hated me all this time because of who my dad was? Is that it? You think I’m privileged?’

  I expect him to say yes, and then hopefully, I can lead him on to talk about all of the things he has done to me over the years, but I don’t get the answer I am expecting.