Coming Clean

by Sue Margolis

  “I had no idea we’d let our guard slip. Amy noticed, too.”

  “Oh, great. So the kids know? I don’t get you, Soph. When I started seeing Roz, it was ages before I introduced her to the kids—partly at your insistence. And it was several months after that before I moved in with her. You bump into an old flame and a few weeks later the two of you are shacked up.”

  “OK, first of all, Huck was never an old flame.”

  “Whatever.”

  “He was looking for somewhere to live and I had a spare room. At the time—as you well know—I was going out of my mind worrying about money. It seemed like the perfect solution. You said so yourself. I certainly don’t recall you raising any objections.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t. I don’t know why, because even then I had my suspicions about the two of you. You know, Soph, after all the kids have been through, I can’t believe you’re doing this to them.”

  “OK, let’s get a few things straight. Huck and I are not ‘shacked up.’ We never, ever sleep together when the kids are in the house. We never touch in front of them. We don’t even sit on the sofa together.”

  “And yet Amy still picked up that there was something going on between you.”

  “I guess that’s girls for you. Anyway, I’ve told her we’re friends and she seems perfectly cool with that. With hindsight, maybe the situation isn’t ideal. And OK—if I’m being totally, searingly honest, I think I was starting to have feelings for Huck before he moved in. I’m sorry if I’ve fucked up, but I swear that we’re being careful around the kids.”

  He seemed to calm down. “Maybe I’m being too hard on you. I think I’m just pissed off because you seem to be getting your life together and I’m struggling.”

  “I am still on strike, you know.”

  “OK, work aside, you seem to be getting things sorted.”

  “Hey, come on. You will, too. You just need to keep working at it. I’m not going to pretend I like Roz, but you’ve told me how much you love her, so I’m assuming she has qualities that I’ve never seen.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Soph, do you ever think we did the wrong thing by splitting up?”

  “In the beginning, sure, but I know that if you and I had stayed together we would have ended up killing each other. You’re only having doubts because you and Roz have hit a rough patch.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  • • •

  On Monday morning, I was driving home after dropping the kids off at school when my mobile rang. It was Des.

  “It’s over.”

  “What?”

  “It’s over. Management caved.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not. What did I tell you about keeping the faith? I just got a call from one of the senior board members. Apparently they spent the whole of Sunday discussing the audience figures. James Harding pleaded for more time to improve them, but instead they held a vote of no confidence and he ended up being sacked as chairman and resigning from the board.”

  “I’m stunned. I never thought they’d get rid of Harding. So what happens now?”

  “Well, STD’s been asked to clear her desk and a new chairman has already been appointed.”

  “Blimey. They didn’t waste much time.”

  “And I’ve just been informed that the new chairman would like to see you ASAP.”

  • • •

  It was over. I practically skipped to the station. Outside the GLB building, the picket was nowhere to be seen. The only evidence that there had ever been a strike was a rain-soaked banner poking out of one of the trash cans.

  By now I was starting to feel nervous. Please, God, don’t let the new chairman be some fire-breathing despot. I knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  I knew that voice. Sitting at the large mahogany desk, looking every inch the company chairwoman, was Liz. The same Liz who had retired as editor of Coffee Break to tend her garden.

  “Liz? No! You’re the new chairman?”

  “I am, but I’m not sure if I should be referred to as chairman, chairwoman, chairperson or chair. What do you think?”

  “It’s bloody fantastic—that’s what I think.” A moment later we were throwing our arms around each other. “So how … when … ?”

  “I got a call last night from one of the board members—right in the middle of Downton, if you please. I almost didn’t pick up. Anyway, he told me that James Harding had stepped down and that they wanted to appoint a new chair. He hinted heavily that if I were to put myself forward, the vote would go in my favor. I agreed on the spot and they voted late last night.”

  “But I thought you were busy tending your parsnips and cabbages.”

  “I was climbing the walls after a week. Nobody told me how boring retirement is. I was desperate to get back to work.” She went over to the drinks cupboard. “One of the perks of the job.” She smiled. “Come on, it’s after eleven. What do you fancy?”

  “Oh, go on, then. I’ll have a small G and T.”

  “Coming up.”

  We clinked glasses. “Congratulations, Liz. I can’t believe I’ve got my old boss back.”

  She led me over to the leather sofa. “OK,” she said as we sat down. “Here’s the deal. It goes without saying that we want you as permanent editor. And I’ve managed to negotiate you a pretty decent pay raise, which will come into effect immediately.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

  “Believe me, it’s my pleasure. Now, then, the plan is to take the program off the air for a couple of weeks to give you and the rest of the team some time to come up with a format that’s fun but without compromising the program’s more heavyweight content.”

  “Actually, we came up with some ideas and proposals ages ago. I showed them to Shirley Tucker Dill, but of course she trashed them.”

  “Why don’t you let me take a look?”

  I said I’d head off to my office and e-mail them to her right away.

  • • •

  The mood in the office was euphoric. Des had been out and bought several bottles of sparkling wine. People were hugging and kissing and punching the air. Wendy and several of the other PAs were even doing a conga through the office. By now everybody knew that Liz was the new chairman of GLB. Des had told them.

  “But you didn’t tell me, you mean sod!” I said as he handed me a plastic cup of sparkling.

  “I thought you’d enjoy the surprise.”

  I had to admit that seeing Liz sitting behind the chairman’s desk had been one of the best bombshells ever.

  I called everybody together and gave them a rundown of my meeting with Liz. “The moment she’s signed off on the program proposals, we get going on the new show. I’m sure she’ll get back to me by this evening, so I suggest everybody take the rest of the day off and we’ll reconvene tomorrow … And by the way—well done, everybody, for hanging in there. I think we owe Des a big thank-you for all his hard work and for keeping our spirits up.”

  A huge cheer went up.

  • • •

  By now it was getting on for midday. It occurred to me that Annie would be finishing her shift at the BBC, which was only a few minutes’ walk away. I thought she might fancy lunch. She whooped and cheered when I told her the news about the strike. “I’d love to do lunch, but you’ll have to come back to my place. Kathleen’s off to the dentist and the boys have got a half day off school, so I need to be around.”

  I said I’d meet her outside Broadcasting House in twenty minutes.

  Meanwhile, I went to my office and e-mailed all my ideas and proposals to Liz. Afterwards, as I headed back down the corridor, I noticed that the door to STD’s office was open. I stopped and popped my head around the door. Despite everything that had gone on, I couldn’t let her leave without saying good-bye. She was loading her stuff into a cardboard box.

  “Hi, Shirley.”

  STD looked up. I could tell she�
��d been crying because her mascara had run, giving her panda eyes.

  “Soph. G’day.” She wiped her eyes, making the panda effect worse.

  “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry things ended the way they did.”

  She raised her palm in front of her. “Nothing for you to be sorry about. I rarely eat humble pie, but I’m prepared to admit the best woman won. You were right and I was wrong. I misjudged the audience. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Thank you for that. I appreciate it.”

  “I admire you, Soph. You’ve got spunk. You know what you want and you go all out to get it. In many ways, you’re a bit like me. I’m glad they’ve made you permanent editor. You’ve got a great future ahead of you. In a few years you’re going to be awesome.”

  I felt my face redden. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Take it from me.”

  “So what will you do now?” I asked. It occurred to me that even a career as illustrious as STD’s might not survive such a high-profile failure and that she could be cast into the wilderness.

  “I’m heading back to Sydney for a few weeks of R and R and then I’ll consider my options. I’ve got a few irons in the fire.”

  I said I was glad and I meant it. She’d been a demon to work for, but in the end she was a gallant loser. I couldn’t help admiring that.

  “Right, well, I’d best be off,” I said. “Good luck.”

  “You, too, Soph. Knock ’em dead.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  We shook hands and STD went back to her packing.

  • • •

  “I’m so glad it’s all over,” Annie said, putting her arm through mine as we walked to the car park. “I’ve been so worried about you and how you were going to make ends meet if it went on much longer.”

  “Well, you can stop now. I’ve been made permanent editor and I’ve got a pay raise.”

  “Oh, hon, that’s amazing. I’m sorry we’re going to have to celebrate with a cuppa and beans on toast back at mine, rather than going out.”

  “No problem,” I said.

  “So how are you?” I asked as we climbed into her car. It was a daft question. She looked exhausted.

  “I’m so tired that I’ve stopped sleeping—if that makes any sense. The doctor says it’s stress. He’s given me some sleeping pills. But I don’t want to become reliant on them.”

  “But you can’t go on like this.” I made her promise to take them for a couple of nights, just so she could catch up on her sleep.

  “So what’s new with you and Huck?” she said.

  “Well, I ended up telling Greg about him and he’s pretty pissed off. He’s worried how it’s going to affect Amy and Ben. Amy’s already worked out there’s something going on. I did my best to convince her that we’re only friends, but I’m seriously worried that Greg’s right and that by letting Huck move in I may have fucked up big-time.”

  “Soph, you have to stop beating yourself up. You know how worried about money you were. Renting your spare room to Huck made perfect sense—and if I remember, Greg thought it was a great idea.”

  “I know. I keep having to remind myself.”

  “If you ask me, Greg isn’t worried about the kids. This is about Huck. He’s jealous.”

  “I had the same thought. He asked me if I thought we’d made a mistake splitting up.”

  “I rest my case. He’s unhappy with Roz and wants you back.”

  “Well, if he thinks he can come running back to me the moment he hits a few bumps in the road, he can think again.”

  “I agree. On the other hand, he does seem to have changed. He decorates, gardens, cleans his own shitty shoes.”

  “I don’t care. I can’t forgive him for treating me the way he did. I just can’t.”

  Annie let us into the house, hung up our coats and went to find Kathleen and the boys. “You know, they had such fun at Ben’s birthday party. I think they both enjoyed being with older kids. Made them feel really grown up.”

  I said I was glad they’d enjoyed it.

  Freddie and Tom were sitting on the living room floor building LEGOs. “Hi, guys,” Annie said. “Where’s Kathleen?”

  Freddie said she was in the kitchen. It was then that we both noticed the boys were wearing their backpacks. We could see they were heavy from the way they were leaning forward. “Boys, those things look like they’re really weighing you down,” Annie said. “You can’t be comfortable. I’m assuming it’s part of your game, but what on earth have you got in them?”

  “Supplies,” Freddie said. “We’re on an adventure.”

  “That’s a lie,” Tom shot back at his brother. “You know what Kathleen says about lying.”

  “OK,” Annie said, looking puzzled. “So what’s really in the backpacks?”

  “Reminders of our sins,” Tom declared.

  “What?”

  “Reminders of our sins,” Tom repeated. “Kathleen put them there.”

  “Sshh, you numpty. We weren’t supposed to say anything.”

  “Your sins?” Annie shot me a WTF look. “Kids, stand up. I need to see inside.”

  The backpacks were so heavy that the boys struggled to get up.

  Freddie turned around and let his mother unzip the top pouch. “Oh my God. Soph, take a look at this.”

  I looked. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The pouch was full of rocks. “The woman’s off her head,” I muttered.

  “Kathleen says,” Freddie continued, “that carrying rocks is good for our souls because it reminds us that we are sinners.”

  I watched Annie’s eyes fill with tears. “Soph, get these things off the kids, will you?” With that she disappeared into the kitchen. She made no attempt to keep her voice down. She was a lioness defending her young. “Kathleen, do you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing, forcing Freddie and Tom to go around weighed down by a ton of rocks?”

  “Annie, calm down or you’ll be having a stroke.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Answer my question.”

  “Children need to know that they are born sinners and they need to atone for their wickedness.”

  “What? Where do you get this tripe?”

  “The Good Book says—”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck about the Good Book. You’re insane. Do you know that? Totally, utterly insane. Pack your bags and get out of my house. Now.”

  Half an hour later, Kathleen was gone, I was making tea and Annie was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the boys doing her best to convince them that babies do not come into this world programmed for evil.

  • • •

  I got back to Putney around six and went straight to pick up Amy and Ben from Debbie-from-down-the-road’s. I told them that the strike was over and announced we were going out for pizza to celebrate. I thought they’d be pleased. Instead they looked miserable. “I’m going to miss you taking us to school,” Ben said. “And being around when we get home.” I assumed he was speaking for both of them.

  “Oh, guys, I’m sorry. I know you’ve enjoyed us being together more and so have I, but I have to get back to work.”

  “OK,” Amy said. “How about you increase our pocket money to make up for it?”

  “So you’re saying that cash will wipe away your tears?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “OK, so what sort of a raise are you looking for?”

  “Fifty percent.”

  “No way. Thirty.”

  “Forty.”

  “Thirty-five.”

  “Done.”

  Ben, who hadn’t done percentages in school yet, looked at his sister. “Is that a good deal?”

  “I think I’ve hammered out a reasonable settlement,” she said. Then she turned back to me: “Mum, why are you looking at me like that? You’re the one who’s been on strike. I’ve picked up my negotiating skills from you.”

  • • •

  When we got home, Huck was in the kitchen
with Araminta. They were sharing a bottle of wine.

  “You’re just in time to help us celebrate,” Huck said. “Guess what—the BBC and Channel Four both want me on their late-night news programs. Plus we just had a really productive meeting with Judy, who thinks that Minty’s Twitter idea definitely has legs.”

  “Oh, Huck, that’s brilliant. I’m really pleased things are going so well.”

  “Mum’s got news, too,” Amy said, clearly not wanting me to be outdone.

  “The strike’s over,” I said. “We won. James Harding got booted off the board and STD’s been sacked.”

  “And Mum’s got a pay raise,” Ben piped up.

  “Good for Mum,” Huck said. He turned to me. “Well done, Soph. I knew it would work out. So come on, how’s about a celebratory glass of wine?”

  I said I would join them in a few minutes. First, I needed to make sure that Ben got in the bath. Then I had to wash Amy’s hair. She still liked me to do it sometimes as a treat.

  By the time I rejoined Huck and Araminta, they had a load of papers spread out in front of them and were deeply engrossed in a discussion about fund-raising. I poured myself a glass of wine. “Maybe I’ll take myself off to the living room,” I said.

  “No, stay,” Huck said. “We’ll be done talking in a couple of minutes.”

  But I knew they wouldn’t be. “Actually, I’m really tired. I think I’d rather put my feet up and watch TV.”

  I headed into the living room and checked my e-mail to see if Liz had gotten back to me with her thoughts on the proposal. She had:

  All fab. Go for it. I just know we’re going to have a major success on our hands.

  Liz x

  I closed my laptop. “Please, please don’t let me fuck up.”

  Gail rang in the middle of the news. She said she’d spoken to Araminta on the phone and that she sounded lovely. “She’s agreed to tutor Spencer on a Sunday morning. Thanks again for finding her, Soph. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.” I could hear Murray in the background. “Tell her I’m grateful, too!”

  It was eleven before Araminta left—which didn’t surprise me. She popped her head around the door to say bye and to apologize for ousting me from my kitchen.

  After he’d shown her out, Huck joined me on the sofa. “Don’t you think Minty’s amazing? Not only is she great with the kids at work, but she’s so creative—so full of ideas to promote the cause. Judy was really impressed.”