Talk to Me

by Jules Wake

  The satisfied grin on his face belied his words. ‘I’ve had a few complaints about you.’

  ‘Really. I’m surprised,’ I said coolly. He’d dumped me with the job from hell. If there was any complaining to be done it should be coming from me.

  ‘Miss Emily Mortimer is not very happy with your management skills.’

  I frowned at him, that wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. Bloody cheek. I wasn’t too chuffed with her either.

  ‘Isn’t she?’ I said grimly, thinking of the missing coverage, the single ticket and her general ineptitude. ‘Eleanor Braeburn looked pretty pleased – and she’s the client. I’d have thought her opinion counted most. She’s the piper after all.’

  ‘Smart girl. That’s why I made Fiona give you the job. Eleanor is crapping herself with delight. But don’t think you’re getting a pay rise out of this.’

  ‘What about a car? After all you pinched mine.’ The words just popped out of my mouth. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me at thinking so quickly on my feet for once, or David at my outright gall. He’s not used to that. Most people are either so busy tugging their forelocks that they miss the wicked glint in his eye (he does have a very warped sense of humour) or so darn scared of him, he treats them with contempt.

  He put his head on one side, studying me. ‘Think you deserve one, do you?’ he asked, his blue eyes dancing with arrogant mischief as he reclined in his chair, his ankle hooked over his knee.

  ‘Yes I do,’ I said, tilting my chin to emphasise that I was taller than him. He pushed himself up. ‘Go on then. Speak to HR. I suppose I’m going to have to promote you permanently – which means I do have to give you a bloody pay rise.’

  He picked up a small plastic box from the windowsill and tossed it at me.

  ‘You’ll need these.’

  Typical David. Through the clear plastic lid I could see my name, Olivia Middleton, Account Director. In my head I did a goal scorer’s wiggle. One to me.

  ‘By the way, what did you do to upset Emily? You’ve achieved in two weeks what Fiona’s been trying to do for three months.’

  I frowned at him, puzzled. There was a letter on his desk, which he picked up and with a flourish he began to read.

  ‘It is with regret that I formally tender my resignation. Since the advent of Olivia Middleton in the role of temporary Account Director, I have found my position totally untenable.’

  He tutted, looking sternly at me.

  What? Cheeky cow. How many times had I saved her bacon?

  David continued. ‘Since assuming responsibility for the team, Olivia has made my working life intolerable with her constant, unfounded criticism and the unremitting undermining of my position in front of other team members.’

  I stared at David, my face frozen while my mind raced. Two-faced witch. Five minutes ago in the office she’d given no clue that this was how she felt.

  Giving an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head with mock disapproval at me. ‘Sadly I have no choice in the circumstances but to terminate my employment with Organic PR.’

  He laid the letter on his desk and looked at me. ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’

  ‘You don’t believe all that,’ I started indignantly.

  ‘Noo! Think I’m dense!’ He slapped his hand on his desk and cackled with laughter. ‘God, she’s a pain in the arse. You deserve the car for putting up with the silly cow and not coming moaning to me every five minutes. Bloody Fiona’s in here every week. She’s—’

  ‘Did you give me this job to piss her off?’ I interrupted, clenching one hand behind my back as the pennies and pounds began to drop. My stomach was churning and I felt sick and shaky.

  He grinned devilishly. ‘It did the trick, well done.’ Completely ignoring my outraged glare, his expression changed to one of shrewdness. ‘You’re a smart girl, Olivia. Luscious Lips pay us a quarter of a million every year – I don’t piss about when fees are involved. She’s off to another agency. Says she’s taking her expertise and ideas where they’ll be appreciated. Silly bitch.’

  Her ideas. That was rich. Ever since I’d known her she’d been desperate for promotion. Now I knew why it had never happened and why it was unlikely to. I bet she’d taken all the credit for the Luscious Lips campaign to impress the new agency.

  ‘She’s on a month’s notice. I’ll leave it up to you whether she pisses off straight away, or stays for the month. Still have to pay the little madam. Make it bloody clear she won’t get a reference if she plays silly buggers.’

  With that I was dismissed. He was a wily devil, he knew damn well after reading that little litany that my blood was up but he had just given me carte blanche to do as I pleased.

  As I left his office, he growled, ‘Just don’t tell everyone what a pussycat I am.’

  As if.

  David might have thought I was a sharp cookie, but he was wrong. The contents of Emily’s letter had been a complete surprise. Leaving the top floor, I’d taken the back stairs, very slowly, disbelief running through my head. My hand was shaking so much I could barely grasp the handrail. Any delight at the unexpected promotion was well and truly overshadowed by the tone of Emily’s letter. Had I really upset her that much?

  By the time I got back to my desk, she’d gone. I had a vague recollection of an arrangement to go to Bar 29 next door for post-work drinks. As the office was virtually empty, I guessed most people had decamped there. No doubt Emily was among them. No one hung around long on Friday evenings. Unfolding the A4 paper, I stared at it, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. The words jumbled up on the page as my eyes ran over the offensive words again and again.

  We’d had our ups and downs but they’d always been normal flatmate irritants. Like pinching the last teabag and not buying more, generally her, or using all the hot water, usually me. Although it had been difficult recently, I thought that with the stress of the premiere over we were back on an even keel.

  I don’t bear grudges. With every fallout we’d ever had, I was always the first to apologise or smooth things over. I couldn’t believe that this was what she really thought of me.

  Shaking, I pulled out my phone. Sod the cost, I needed to speak to Kate.

  Snatching up my holdall with one hand, my mobile in the other, I headed for the stairs. Pressing buttons as I stumbled down, I never gave a thought to what the time might be on the other side of the world.

  She answered as I hit the pavement and the Friday night throng on the street. To get out the way, I ducked into a doorway on the opposite side of the road. From my vantage, I had a complete view of the office, stretching up three floors above the busy street. Waiting for Kate to answer, I eyed the top floor bitterly.

  ‘Kate, it’s me,’ I said, when she finally answered; I’d had to dial twice.

  ‘Olivia, it’s the middle of the night. I’ve still got jet lag,’ she muttered in response, her words blurred by sleep.

  I bit my lip, looked anxiously at my watch, and realised it must be about four in the morning there.

  ‘No one’s died,’ I said, inhaling a sob.

  ‘It had better be good, now that I’m awake. Honestly, Olivia, you are hopeless. You’re not still trying to get me to talk to Bill are you?’

  ‘No, it’s Emily.’

  Stumbling over the words, I told her what had happened. I’m surprised she could understand what I was saying.

  ‘Olivia.’ She gave a long sigh. ‘It’s about time you woke up and smelt the sewage, sweetie.’

  That wasn’t what I wanted her to say. She was supposed to be on my side. Where was the sympathy?

  ‘I’ve been telling you for ages. Emily is bad news. You wouldn’t have it. Why do you have to always see the best of people, even those that don’t deserve it?’

  Taken aback, I ventured softly. ‘But
isn’t that better than always seeing the bad?’

  ‘No, it’s not. You’re too nice. You think everyone is like you – they value honesty and want to do the right thing. Not everyone does.’ Her voice was getting louder, as she warmed to the theme. ‘People like Emily coast on other people’s coat-tails. And yours was a very comfortable ride. Nice flat, great friends, and she even pinched Daniel from under your nose. Easy pickings, thanks very much, Olivia.’

  ‘No …’ I tried to stop her. This was not what I wanted to hear.

  ‘I’m sorry, hon, it’s about time you realised she’s been using you. Not that I think it was personal. She’s a parasite. Latches onto the nearest free meal. It wasn’t as if she was that attached to Daniel. He was just handy at the time.’

  ‘It doesn’t explain why she had to be so horrible in her letter to David.’ That really hurt. Especially all the lies.

  ‘She’s just saving face. Anyone that hopeless is never going to get on if they stay put but she couldn’t admit it, could she? So you got the blame. Bet she genuinely believes all that guff. Ask yourself, what’s Emily ever done for you?’

  ‘She cleaned the flat from top to bottom when I hurt my arm. That was really nice of—’

  ‘I’m not saying she’s all bad, but overall she’s just not that great. And what about Daniel?’

  God she was determined to keep bringing him up, just when I was trying very hard not to think about him any more.

  ‘Don’t tell me she didn’t know that you liked him.’ There was a pause as if she was considering her next words carefully. ‘I think she stuck the knife in that night at Ben’s birthday party. You told me that one minute Daniel and you were getting on like a house on fire, the next she’s waltzed off with him.’

  Thanks for sisterly sympathy. Now I felt even worse. Especially when I realised I’d hung up and not asked how she was feeling.

  Friday night was hell on the tube. So much for my quick exit from work to beat the rush. David’s little meeting and the call with Kate had played havoc with my plans. It was now after six. I felt more like going into the pub and downing a pint of vodka than braving the packed underground.

  Feeling bloody miserable, I swung the holdall over my shoulder and I headed reluctantly towards Tottenham Court Road tube and as I did managed to catch the shoulder of a man standing just to the left of the doorway, his eyes focused on the doorway of Bar 29. Turning my head, I offered a fleeting, ‘Sorry,’ and caught his eye. He looked familiar. Where had I seen him before? Not that I really cared. I was far too pissed off with life, the world, Emily and myself to give it another thought.

  Every inch of the concourse at Paddington was packed as I squeezed my way through trying to get to the platform. I only just caught the 6.35, which meant standing nearly all the way to Maidenhead. I was too lost in thought to care and too wedged in to worry.

  Kate’s words were like merry-go-round ponies spinning, going round and round in my head. I’d always dismissed her views as being typically Kate, overly harsh and disparaging. Grudgingly I could see now that she’d been right. Not in everything but she’d certainly seen more than me.

  Looking back, a sense of shame filled me as I thought of all the times I’d let Emily get away with things. So she was inept at work; it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t as organised as I was. When Fiona gave her a hard time, I’d always sympathised. What I should have done was point out why Fiona gave her a hard time. Now I knew why. Emily was always ready to blame everyone else for her failings. Look how she’d pitched my ideas as her own and got away with it. In a lot of ways, I was as much to blame as she was. I’d never made her face her faults. To keep the peace I’d encouraged her instead of trying to tell her diplomatically that she was the cause of many of her own problems.

  I was disappointed as much in myself as in Emily. How could I have failed so badly to see her for what she really was?

  I was still brooding when we pulled into West Drayton. Achingly close to Daniel’s offices. If she could say all those things in her letter to David, what on earth had she been saying to Daniel?

  Getting off the train, I was slightly annoyed there was no welcoming party at the barrier. Where was Dad? He was supposed to chauffeur me home in style in his Jag. It was probably just as well. No doubt he would have asked me what was wrong, given me tons of sympathy and made me feel even more self-pitying.

  Wandering past the ticket office and out on to the road, I was hailed by a sudden honking from the beaten-up old Mini parked nearby.

  ‘Ollie, over here!’

  ‘Ben,’ I said with surprise. My brother didn’t normally get out of bed for anything less than a willowy blonde. ‘How much did Dad have to bribe you?’

  ‘Hi, Sis.’ He grinned before giving me a big bear hug. I wrestled my bag into the back seat.

  ‘Mum was dropping heavy hints about cleaning the barbecue. You were less hassle, except she wants me to stop off and pick up another barbie on the way back.’

  I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. ‘Erm, Ben. Just how do you propose getting a barbecue in here?’ I indicated the back seat.

  He looked blankly at me. ‘Bollocks. Knew I’d forgotten something. I was meant to bring Dad’s car.’

  Honestly I do wonder about him sometimes. He’s about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. The epitome of a dumb blonde. Very cute and sometimes very dopey.

  During the summer when his eyebrows and hair turn white blond, he looks just like a Thunderbird puppet. This combined with the surf-boy look he’s adopted means that wherever he goes, young impressionable teenagers turn their heads and drool. Not that he would know what to do with a surfboard – I dread to think how much damage he could do with one.

  At junior school he was always picked to play Gabriel in every nativity play, until an incident with a black marker pen, a moustache and baby Jesus got him drummed out of the celestial troops.

  ‘Are you sure it won’t go in?’ he asked, looking puzzled.

  ‘It’s a Mini not a bloody Tardis,’ I pointed out, my mood beginning to lighten. You could never take anything too seriously with Ben around. He’s very easy to be with and at that moment, just what I needed.

  ‘With the best intention in the world – unless it’s one of those little portable jobbies …’

  Ben’s faced screwed up comically. ‘No! It’s huge. It’s Daniel’s folks one, you know the one we borrowed last year.’

  My heart sank. Five minutes and already his name had to crop up. ‘Can’t you get him to bring it over tomorrow?’

  ‘Good idea, Sis. He can bring it in the Land Rover. Give him a call.’ With that he turned the ignition and slammed into first and tossed his mobile into my lap before wheeling off into the road.

  Shit. How did I get out of this one? I tutted and picked up the phone, my pulse racing. If I refused Ben would only make a big deal of it. I needed to pretend everything was normal and that for some reason Daniel didn’t hate me and that he was nothing more than an old mate.

  I scrolled through the address book. ‘Digger, Five O, Fossil, Foxy, Gasper, Gert … Don’t any of your friends have proper names?’ I queried. ‘And what’s this one, Me?’

  ‘So that I can give people my number. Can’t remember it.’

  I rolled my eyes and carried on scrolling. I still couldn’t find Daniel’s name anywhere. ‘Ben, it’s not here.’

  ‘Five O.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Book em, Danno. You know that ancient programme. Hawaii Five-O.’

  I shook my head. Boy logic, I’d never get it.

  Finding the right number, I reluctantly pressed call.

  ‘Ben.’

  ‘I—’

  Before I could get a word in, Daniel was saying, ‘Make sure you stay off the beer tonight we’re relying on your bowling.’

&n
bsp; ‘It’s me, Olivia,’ I said. For a second I thought the line had gone dead. ‘Hello. Are you there?’

  There was an empty pause. ‘Olivia. Hi. Thought you were Ben.’ His tone was clipped.

  ‘No,’ I said forcing a cheery note into my voice. Once again he sounded pissed off with me. ‘Although I could bowl if you want me to.’

  I could almost hear the resigned sigh, as if he felt he had no choice but to talk to me. ‘Are you any good? We’re desperate.’

  ‘Not that desperate.’

  ‘So where’s Ben, why are you using his phone?’ His voice held an accusing note.

  Ben shot me a questioning look. The last thing I wanted was him picking up on any negative vibes. I had to keep things light. ‘He’s driving. Allegedly. We’ve already had several near misses and I’ve only been in the car five minutes.’

  Daniel laughed softly and I felt a hollow ache in my stomach at the sound. Shit I missed him.

  ‘So how many times have you thrown up then?’

  ‘Very funny.’

  ‘Sorry, couldn’t resist it. Just arrived?’ His voice gentled as he asked, ‘How’s the arm?’

  ‘It’s fine.’ My voice went husky at the concern in his. Then I glanced at Ben, who watched me with sharp beady eyes. The little sod didn’t miss a trick.

  I stuck my tongue out at him. ‘Ben met me at the station. Except the half-wit came in the Mini. We’re supposed to be picking up your barbie. Is there any chance that you can bring it over on the way to the ground tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Tell him he’s bloody useless. I’ll ask Dad if I can pinch the Land Rover – we’ll probably need the trailer as well as Miriam has done her usual. She thinks she’s performing the feeding of the five thousand tomorrow.’ I could hear the pride in his voice. His stepmum, Miriam, was an amazing cook.

  ‘I’m in her kitchen now. Every time you open a fridge door you’re in danger of being buried alive in chicken drumsticks marinating in stuff.’

  I giggled. ‘Stuff! Daniel. It’s ambrosia.’