by Soraya May
My coffee cup is halfway to my mouth.
“Even now, financial experts are analyzing those details. It’s too early to predict the full consequences of this leak, but those same experts are calling this a ‘catastrophic blow’ for Walters Capital.”
I look around me, and all I can see are wide eyes, and white knuckles holding the edge of tables.
“The firm, previously a darling of investors across the country, is now committed to the bond issue going ahead in two days’ time, having warranted to investors and the SEC that it will enter into a huge set of contracts. Failure to go ahead with the deal will render the firm liable to prosecution for sums likely to run into the billions of dollars.”
The whole room looks frozen in time, like the moment before a car accident.
“It’s been claimed that the leak came from a low-level source at Walters Capital. Industry insiders say that the culprit is likely to have been one of the trainees recently brought on board. If that claim turns out to be verified, it raises significant questions about Walters’ vetting process, further damaging the firm’s reputation with investors.”
Adam mutters quietly under his breath. “Oh, wow. Oh, boy.” Abby looks at me desperately, and back to the screen.
Oh shit. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Dana said those details would be off the record. They broke their word.
Everything goes slightly white around me. I hear a rattling noise, and after a few minutes I realize it’s the sound of my hands on the table. I’m lucky that the others are glued to the screens and they don’t see me.
It was me. I wanted to stop the deal, but instead I’ve doomed it. I’m responsible for this.
“We’ll have more developments as they come to hand, but for now, a cloud hangs over the future of Walters Capital; could this fast-rising star of the finance industry have flown too close to the sun?”
There’s a moment’s silence, like the eerie quiet of low pressure before a thunderstorm hits, then a crackle of static. It’s not coming from the television screens, it’s coming from a PA speaker right above us. I’ve never heard the PA system before.
“Trainees to report to conference room 4A immediately. Trainees to report to conference room 4A immediately.”
Abby is hyperventilating. White-faced, Adam and Errol look at me. Finally, Errol speaks.
“I think we are in really big trouble.”
The conference room is very different to the last time we were here. The lectern is gone, and instead there is a long table on a raised platform.
The lights are very bright; I don’t remember them being this bright.
Behind the table sits the Board of Directors of Walters Capital; I recognize them as the faces on Tom’s screen. Most of the other trainees have never seen them before, but I don’t think anyone will mistake who they are. Barbara stands off to one side. She’s clutching a clipboard, and her knuckles are white around the edge. There’s an expression on her face I don’t recognize.
There are no other chairs in the room.
We shuffle in and stand in a loose group in front of the table, about fifteen of us. No-one speaks. Abby is at the back; we got her to breathe into a bag on the way here, and she’s stopped hyperventilating, but she’s still panting and breathing deeply.
The door is pulled shut on us from the outside. It slams, and some of us jump.
There’s a moment’s silence. The only sound in the room is the heaving of Abby’s breath from behind me. Finally, one of the Board speaks. It’s the bearded one; I don’t remember his name.
“Today, a very serious incident has taken place. This incident has put the future of this firm in jeopardy, and threatened the livelihoods of everyone who work here. It has furthermore blackened the reputation of the firm’s partners, and risked the capital of the many high net-worth individuals who have entrusted us with their assets.”
No one says anything.
“This incident has been identified as the responsibility of one of the trainees in the group here in this room. Someone in this room has deliberately and willfully committed a serious misconduct offense, whose consequences will be catastrophic for everyone employed by Walters Capital.”
I’m overcome by a desperate need to say something, but my mouth won’t open. What could I say?
“Accordingly, the Board has ruled that the trainee program is canceled, effective immediately. Those of you who have received offers of employment should report to your departments. Those of you who have not—” here there is a significant pause, “will be escorted from the building following the conclusion of this meeting. Security has a list of your names, and will check you off as you leave this room.“
Filing out, we all look at each other, but no-one speaks. I try to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes for too long.
I should have said something. I should have spoken out in the meeting, and taken responsibility.
Outside the room, there are four security guards waiting. Names are read off one by one, and people shuffle to stand in a group.
“Abby Bairstow.”
“Adam Simons.”
“Errol Rasic.”
At the end of it, my name is the only not called, and I’m standing on my own. I realize with a shock that I’m the only person in the trainee group to have received a job offer. The rest of the group look at me.
I feel like I ought to say something, but Abby speaks up.
“Good luck, Ronnie. Take care.”
Adam and Errol nod. “Yeah.” One of the security guards coughs.
“Come this way, please.” The group of trainees is led off across the hallway to the door to the street. I look around, and see Barbara next to me. We watch as they remove their security passes one by one, and hand them back at the reception desk. I look again at the expression on her face, and see a glint at the corner of her eyes. She’s actually upset.
She looks back at me. “This was undeserved. Punishing all of them. They were all good young men and women.”
“I—” I have no idea what to say to her.
Chest heaving, she makes a few marks on her clipboard, and walks off. I stand outside the conference room and look across the foyer at the last of my friends leaving the building.
34
I stand next to Tom’s office door. I can hear him talking clearly from inside. I have to do something.
“Look, I agree that this is a serious setback. But it’s not irreparable. Now that we know what’s happened, and we know the extent of the information that’s leaked into the public domain, we can refocus. We still have time to turn this into a successful issue.”
“Tom, after your foolish outburst last week, this board has lost faith in your assurances. What evidence can you provide that your judgment is sound on this matter?”
“You have no reason whatsoever to doubt my judgment in financial matters. You know damn well that I’m committed to doing the best for the firm during my time here. If I weren’t, you would have accepted my resignation, correct?”
Silence. “So, within twenty-four hours my team will have a fall-back plan complete. This will include a media campaign to reassure investors and the market that the deal will go ahead, and a detailed explanation of the modifications. I’ll need PR assistance to manage the discussion, and—”
I take a deep breath, open the door and walk in. The faces of the board members are no longer looking at Tom; they turn to look at me.
“Excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt, but this can’t wait.” Tom spins around in his chair. Man, this is getting to be a habit.
“Ronnie, is this really the right—”
“Tom, I need to address the board, while you’re here.” Without waiting for him to respond, I look directly at the board.
“You all need to understand something. The leak that happened this morning was my responsibility. I sent an email to a reporter when I was angry about what was going on. I wanted to stop the deal going ahead, because I thought it was wrong.”
“I am solely responsible for the consequences. The other trainees were innocent of any wrongdoing. As a result, I am tendering my resignation immediately, and I ask that the trainee program be reinstated, and the other trainees be given a chance to prove themselves.”
The faces are impassive. I look at Tom, but he’s staring fixedly in front of him.
Finally, one of them speaks. “Veronica Haas, isn’t it? I’ve read about you in board reports. Your work is very impressive. Very well, your resignation is accepted. Thank you for your confession.”
I lean forward, hands on the table. “But what about the other trainees? They had nothing to do with this. You have to let them come back to work.”
“Ms. Haas, we don’t have to do anything. After this incident, it has been decided that the trainee program this year is to be canceled due to the fact it presents an unjustifiable risk to the business of the firm. Going forward the program will be reviewed, but none of this years’ trainees will be offered roles with Walters Capital.”
“They’re innocent. It was my fault. Don’t you understand?”
“Ms. Haas, we understand very well. But we are not obligated to continue the trainee program simply because only one of the trainees was involved in a misconduct incident, as you so clearly have confessed. Now, this discussion is at an end. You will be escorted from the building, and we advise you to make your whereabouts known to Human Resources should legal action be forthcoming.”
I turn to Tom, and puts one hand on his shoulder. “Tom, you have to do something. Don’t you see what I’m saying to these people?”
He doesn’t speak for a while, and when he does, his voice has a flat, level, toneless quality I’ve never heard before.
“You betrayed the team for your principles. You put your wishes above the needs of the team. My team. Me.”
My heart pounds in my chest. “I didn’t! I was angry, and—”
“You didn’t think about what this would mean for the people who trusted you? The people who took you into your confidence? Mike, Billy, the rest of the team? They have families. They have people who depend on them. They are my friends. You didn’t think about the effect of your actions upon them? Upon me?”
Please, no. “Tom, you have to understand.”
His voice remains level. “I understand very well. You decided that your opinion and your principles were more important than the wellbeing of the people I care about. That I can never accept.”
There’s a cough from one of the board members. “Ms. Haas, we’re done here. It’s time for you to leave.”
I reach for Tom’s hand, but he moves it away from me, staring fixedly at the screens in front of him. Still looking at them, he speaks, and it’s as if we never met.
It’s as if we never kissed. Never made love. As if he never said that I was his girl.
“Gentlemen, let’s continue with discussion of the contingency plan. Ms. Haas, please close the door on your way out.”
I turn away and slip quickly to the door so no-one will see my tears. Before I close it, I glance back at Tom, head bowed, his hands clenched into fists below the desk, out of sight of the cameras, where no-one will see.
35
Please. No. Not Ronnie.
The rest of the meeting is a blur, but after finding out the source of the leak, the board are distracted enough that I can defer discussion of the recovery plan to another day. On the way back to my office, I see Barbara coming down the corridor in front of me. She looks at my face, and stops.
“Dr. Macaulay, it seems that one of the trainees—”
I interrupt. “It was Veronica Haas, Barbara. It was her who gave away details of the deal to the media.”
A flicker of surprise crosses her face. “I see.”
Before she can talk, I continue. “I’m well aware of what you must be thinking, and you were absolutely right. It was foolish of me to think that she wouldn’t put her own opinions above the wellbeing of the firm.”
Barbara is silent, watching me. After a minute, she looks down at the floor. “She wasn’t a bad person, you know.”
“Perhaps not.” I stare out the window for a moment. “But, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. Her actions have hurt a lot of people, and threatened the reputation of the firm. You always cared about that more than I did.”
“I did.” She looks at her clipboard. “Perhaps I interpreted it wrongly.”
“No, Barbara. Your influence on the firm has never been anything but positive.” I smile. “Maybe the trainees were a little scared of you.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Her face is expressionless, but I can see her mouth twitch.
“Anyway, I must go. We have a game to win. I don’t know how we’re going to win from here, though.” As I turn, Barbara stops.
“Dr. Macaulay. Do remember that this involves real people.”
I nod. “Of course, Barbara. That’s exactly why I’m doing what I’m doing.”
She shakes her head. “No, not just those in our team, or those in our firm. The trainees are real people. Even Ms. Haas, despite her faults, is a real person.” She straightens up. “I must go. Thank you for your time, Dr. Macaulay.”
Back in my office, I shut the door, and look out the window. What was it Ronnie said?
If you don’t like the game, change the rules and play a different one.
36
My mother’s face lights up as she opens the door. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come over until tomorrow.”
“Momma, I need to come in and tell you and Poppa something.” She bustles about opening the door, and I step inside, hands tight around my bag.
“Come in. Where is that nice young man Tomas? Is he waiting for you at home?” I ignore the question, and follow her into the lounge.
“Pieter!” My father walks in without his frame for once, and enfolds me in a hug. He smells just like he always has, of liniment and shaving foam.
“What are you doing here, honey?”
I take a deep breath. “Momma, Poppa, I need to explain something about work. Can you sit down?”
My mother’s face is grave, but for once she does as I ask. “What is it?”
I take hold of the back of the armchair and rack my brains about how to begin.
“You will have seen on the news about the problem at Walters Capital, right?” They nod. “Well, it was me. Everything on the news was my fault.”
My mother is incredulous. “But how can it have been your fault? You’re just some kind of trainee, right? Surely you’re not included in such important things.”
I smile. “Momma, you’d be surprised. I was angry about what was happening, because I thought this deal was going to hurt people who couldn’t afford to lose all their money. I let people outside the firm find out about what was going on, and now the deal is going to collapse. Other people were blamed for it, and I got to keep my job.”
“So what happened?”
“This morning I handed in my resignation rather than let other people take the blame for something I did. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing while they were hurt.”
My father has been silent, looking at his hands. Finally, he looks up at me. “You were really responsible for this? For the deal collapsing?”
“Yes, Poppa. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I guess it doesn’t matter much now.”
“And you confessed rather than let others take the blame?”
“Yes.” My breath is coming in short gasps. “I know it was irresponsible, and I know I should have kept the job, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I’ve ruined everything, and I’m so sorry.”
My mother looks at me. “And you were right that this investment would hurt people? You know that?”
“Yes, Momma. I know that.”
She crosses her hands in her lap. “Well, I think you were right to do what you did, then.”
I look up at her. �
�You think so?”
“Uh-huh. Your father and I taught you to have a sense of right and wrong, and that’s more important than this job, or any job. If you were doing what you thought was right, then that’s the most important thing in the world.” She fiddles with her teacup. “Even though I was telling you that this job was important, you stuck to what you believed was right. And you were right to do so.”
I exhale a breath I’ve been holding for some time. “Thank you, Momma. I—I don’t know what we’re going to do about your house though.”
My father reaches over and holds my hand. “It’ll be okay, honey. We’ll work something out. Maybe we’ll have to move out of town to somewhere cheaper. Maybe we’ll win the lottery. You never know.”
I smile. I realize my cheeks are wet, and I’ve been crying. “You never know.”
37
“One last round,” Mike says. “for the best guys and girls with whom I’ve had the privilege to work alongside. Even if, when the markets open tomorrow morning, we’re gonna be single-handedly responsible for bankrupting the firm.” Our pint glasses clink together, and beer spills on the table, but I don’t think anyone cares much by this point.
Beside me, Billy is tracing pictures in the beer with one finger. “Hey Tom,” he mutters, “do you think it’d actually be that bad working at Global Finance for Rick the Prick?”
I look at him steadily. “Billy, you’re gonna have to make that call yourself.” He laughs sourly.
“Yeah, I think I just answered my own question.”
I look around the table, and try one last time to cheer people up. “Come on, guys. No need for long faces. You’ve all got stellar track records. You really think anyone’s going to be out of a job? Seriously, that’s not going to happen.”
“Boss, we know.” Mike looks at me and sighs. “But it ain’t going to be the same. Not without this team, no way.” He claps Billy on the shoulder, causing him to nearly spill his beer. “Maybe we should retire, buddy. How about it? Gardening? Fly-fishing?”
