Stella took a breath.
– Thank you. It’s really nice of you to bother to call. But really you shouldn’t worry. I’ve had them tested, and they’re normal. But thanks so much for the call. And it would be really nice to get Oscar over to our place soon – it’s wonderful that they seem to get on so well.
She put the phone down.
– Stupid, annoying, interfering cow, she said.
Next door Nathalie looked up and gave a knowing smile.
James put his head round Stella’s door.
– Hi, you aren’t by any chance free for a quick lunch today, are you? I’ve had a cancellation.
Why did men always have to make such a show of a full diary, Stella wondered. Why couldn’t he allow her to think that maybe he had nothing booked? Her diary was blank for lunch, indeed she tried to keep it that way where possible, but it was uphill work. That day she had been considering going to the gym for the first time in three weeks. Though the thought of struggling in and out of her clothes and spending half an hour on the cross-trainer was so unappealing that she was not altogether disappointed when something else came up.
– OK, but can we do 1.15, as I’ve got to give one of my recalcitrant trainees a swift kick first?
Stella was curious about James. He was such a dark horse. She wondered what had really happened with Julia, and resolved to try to get it out of him over lunch.
At ten to one Rhys knocked on her office door. She beckoned him in, and purposefully glanced at her watch to make the point that he was five minutes late and to invite him to apologize. He didn’t; instead he sat down in his casual, sprawly way. Stella started without preamble.
– As I said in my email, I was grateful to you for unwittingly offering inspiration for the start of my presentation. However, I was – look, can I be honest with you? There are a lot of people who want to be trainees here. Of the twenty-five we take every year, ten won’t make it through to the end of the year. It’s really tough, and you need to play the game. Sending me snarky emails is not playing the game.
– Yeah, he said. I know. Sorry. I’ve been a prat.
He looked crumpled, like a small boy. Ten minutes ago she would have bet money that he was incapable of apologizing, but here he was saying sorry with all the outward signs of sincerity.
– So how did it go? he asked.
– How did what go?
– Your presentation.
– It went very well, she said. The board has approved the entire budget, and we have an additional $100m to put into the research project, making fuel from algae.
– And did they like the tits? he asked.
– I’m not sure if they liked them. But they did appreciate the point I was making.
– That’s good, he said. I was impressed you did that.
Was he trying to suck up to her, she wondered.
– Well, yes. There was a minute when I thought it was going to backfire. Dame Judith Babcock looked even more hatchet-faced than she usually does.
– Dame Judith? I didn’t know she was on the board. She’s a joke.
This wasn’t what Stella had planned at all. It was meant to be a bollocking, not an opportunity for the two of them to denigrate members of the board.
– Look, said Stella firmly. We are skirting around the issue here. The issue is this. I have room for one trainee on my team. I have two – and so far it seems to me that one does all the work and the other is sloppy and arrogant and his sole contribution is a Green page three girl. Let me ask you this. In my position, which would you choose?
– What if the lazy bastard promised to pull his finger out going forward?
Stella winced at the phrase ‘going forward’, and thought how peculiar his speech was. He had a strong Welsh accent and his vocabulary was part English graduate and part Jack the lad. On top was a thin layer of corporate jargon.
– OK, she said. I’m shelving the decision for now and am giving you one more chance.
– Thank you, he said, looking at his watch and standing up. I’ve got a lunch, so I’d better go.
Stella sighed. He still didn’t get it. It was for her to call an end to the meeting, not him.
Bella
– Where shall we go? You know the places around here better than I do, said Rhys.
Bella hesitated. Was he going to pay for her, she wondered. In her experience the fact that a man might earn three times as much as you didn’t mean that they would necessarily pay.
– Shall we just get a sandwich at Pret?
He ignored this.
– What about that place?
He pointed towards a glass and steel restaurant opposite Atlantic Tower called Roast. It looked expensive, but Bella decided it would be best not to make a fuss.
They pushed through the doors, and there at a table in front of them sat James and Stella. She was leaning across the table towards him, and he was smiling.
– Help, said Bella. It’s my boss and your boss. Shall we do a bunk?
– No, this place looks cool. And she’s practically my ex-boss now. I think.
The waiter led them right past James and Stella, making it necessary to say hello before settling at a table just out of earshot.
Fabulous, thought Bella. We’re somewhere that I can’t afford, and I’m right under my boss’s nose and this guy who I told my sister definitely fancies me isn’t sending out any interested vibes at all. She looked at the menu.
– I’m not very hungry, she said. I think I’ll just have the soup.
The soup was the cheapest dish on the menu and was £8.90.
He looked a bit surprised but didn’t protest, and ordered a large well done steak and chips.
– So are you enjoying working here? she asked.
– Are you enjoying working here?
He batted the question back in a way that was more clumsy than flirtatious.
– Well, she said, I’ve been at AE for four years, which is quite a bit compared to your four minutes. What can I say? It’s fine. It just about pays the mortgage.
He nodded, as if quite satisfied by the answer. He didn’t ask what she was doing working as a PA. In a way this suited her, as she didn’t want to mention Millie, or Xan. But still she didn’t like men who showed no curiosity about her life. It was not a good sign.
He looked over her shoulder at James and Stella.
– She’s a tough bitch, isn’t she, he said.
Bella recoiled at the harshness of the word.
– No, I don’t think she is. I don’t really know her personally, but other people seem to like her. She apparently lives in this incredible house in Primrose Hill. Julia – she was my old boss – told me about it. Her husband is quite a famous documentary maker, I think, and they give these glamorous parties. The prime minister and his wife went to the last one, I think.
– What’s he like?
– I haven’t really decided yet. I haven’t been working for him very long. He’s obviously super bright, but it’s weird putting someone in charge of External Relations who isn’t any good at communicating – but I suppose he can turn it on when he has to.
– I didn’t mean your boss. I meant her husband.
– Stella’s husband? I don’t know. I’ve never met him. Why would I have? I’m not exactly going to get asked to their parties, am I?
Bella sipped her soup, and moved the conversation on.
– You didn’t answer my question, she said. Do you like it here so far?
– It’s a bit of a let-down, he said. You get told that being a fast-track management trainee at AE is a massive big deal, and then you arrive and are given nothing interesting to do and everyone’s on your case. You’re expected to be grateful just to work here – basically to sign up to something that means you work twelve-hour days. And most of the other trainees are right plonkers.
Bella said she thought that on the whole people were surprisingly pleasant.
– Yeah, well, it’s different for you.
You’ve probably got a trust fund.
– A what?
She didn’t know whether to be flattered that he thought she was in that bracket, or furious that he had taken in so little about her.
– How many trust fund babes do you know who are executive assistants in oil companies?
He smiled, and she felt a bit less resentful.
– Yeah, well, I just thought, with your middle-class accent. You don’t really seem like a typical assistant.
And she almost said: And you don’t seem like a typical fast-track trainee with your thick Welsh accent and dodgy taste in shoes.
As if knowing what she was thinking, he said: I’m going to make it in this company. The other trainees are geeks, and they’ve always had what they wanted handed to them on a plate. I haven’t. I’ve had to fight for it.
I’ve done a bit of fighting too, thought Bella, but she didn’t say it. Not because she thought he would stop liking her if he found out that she was raising a daughter on her own, hindered by a junkie ex-boyfriend, but because it was quite clear that he didn’t really like her anyway. And she didn’t much like him.
The bill came and she moved to get her wallet.
– Don’t worry, he said to her relief. I’ll get this. Sorry I wasn’t better company. I had an odd morning. Let’s do it again.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. A bit brash and self-pitying. But still there was something about him.
– Yes, let’s, she said.
Stella
– So where do you want to go?
– I’m in a hurry, said James, so let’s go to Roast.
Stella didn’t much like Roast, but at least it was nearby. Her discussion with Rhys had left her in high spirits for reasons that she could not quite fathom.
The main problem with the restaurant, from Stella’s point of view, was that almost everything on the menu was an enormous piece of meat.
– I think I’ll just have soup, she said after scanning the menu.
– Is that all?
– Charles is away and I try to give myself a complete holiday from meat, in fact from food altogether.
This sounded stupid, but she couldn’t be bothered to explain that her husband’s obsessive carnivorous spirit wore her down. He had started doing all the cooking at home at weekends when the children were small. But since she had been working more and more and he had been working less and less, he cooked on weekdays too.
Sometimes she thought these meals were a punishment. Whenever she told him she had had a business lunch and wouldn’t be hungry, she would come home in the evening to find pork with prunes, dauphinoise potatoes and ratatouille, sometimes with crème brûlée for pudding.
– We need to eat as a family, he would insist.
James was pouring sparkling water, and he lifted his glass towards her.
– Congratulations. Your board presentation yesterday was … extraordinary.
His compliment struck Stella as slightly ironic.
– I also just wanted to clear up any misunderstanding over my phone call last night, he went on.
– Oh don’t worry, she said, it was nothing.
– It wasn’t nothing.
He held up his hand in a let-me-finish sort of way. Frankly I had no business lashing out at you. I’d had quite a difficult day. Obviously it’s no excuse but –
Today was turning out to be a peculiar day, Stella thought, with not one but two men apologizing to her in the space of an hour.
Over James’s shoulder she saw the door opening and Rhys came sauntering in with Julia’s old assistant behind him. What were they doing here, she wondered. And why were they having lunch together? Assistants and fast-track trainees didn’t usually socialize. Probably he fancied her, which would not be in the least surprising. Bella was looking lovely, Stella thought, with her dark hair scrunched up into a knot with curly tendrils escaping round her face.
The two walked past their table.
– Hello again, Stella said.
She was mainly addressing Rhys but he didn’t meet her eye. Bella smiled and said hello. James said nothing.
When they found a table, Stella said: That was the trainee I was telling you about. Very odd boy. I don’t think he’ll last here more than six months. And that’s Julia’s old PA.
She looked at James closely as she said Julia’s name. She thought she saw a flicker – but when he replied it wasn’t about Julia at all.
– She’s my PA now. I took her on with Julia’s job. She’s a bright girl – I have a feeling she’s going to go far.
– And gorgeous, said Stella.
James didn’t comment on this, and so Stella asked: So what’s it like now running the press office as well as the whole of ER?
– You know, said James. I really want to do media differently. I think for too long we’ve been focused on spin. We have tried to tailor our announcements to the media according to what we think will be well received. I am trying to persuade Stephen to adopt an approach that will build trust. At the moment trust is zero – they think we are evil – greedy, plundering the planet, filling our boots. If we let them see us as we really are, their opinion of us can’t be worse than it is now.
Stella looked at his hands with their clean fingernails and his wrists with dark hair sprouting out from under his cuffs. She looked at the gold band of his wedding ring. How did he manage to seduce Julia, she wondered. Perhaps, she thought, watching his hands stroke the side of the water glass, he was terribly good in bed. People said plain men had to try harder.
– That’s brave, said Stella. Though I think you may be right. Honesty is generally the best policy.
And then she said: One could never accuse Julia – for all her brilliance and flair – of wanting to play things straight.
Stella waited to see if he would take up this invitation to denigrate his former lover and was both impressed and disappointed when he turned it down.
– Julia did an excellent job, but it’s time for a change.
– Yes, said Stella, trying again. I really miss her even though she was maddening and terribly indiscreet. I would never trust her with a secret – she couldn’t even keep her own.
Stella looked at him pointedly.
– I don’t know what she has told you, he said, sighing. But whatever it is I’m not going to try to defend myself. I behaved very, very badly. It was a – brief chapter in my life about which I feel nothing but shame.
His face changed. The look of competence and control had gone and he looked vulnerable.
– I’m so sorry, said Stella, suddenly feeling guilty. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.
– No, James agreed. But could I ask one thing? Whatever it is that you know, to keep it to yourself. I’m not worried about sordid details damaging me – it’s Hillary I’m worried about – she hasn’t been well recently.
You might have thought about her earlier, Stella thought. But seeing his cowed expression she said: I’ve known for a few weeks and have told no one, and I’m not going to start telling them now.
– Thank you, he said.
James called for the bill, which he paid, folding the receipt carefully into his wallet.
Bella
Bella had had an aimless weekend. Gone nowhere, done nothing. The highlight had been doing times tables with Millie, something for which her daughter seemed to have great aptitude. While her classmates were still on two times two, Millie could tell you that seven times eight was fifty-six. To Bella, who was hopeless at maths, this was a miracle and a sign of Millie’s separateness from her.
On Saturday night Millie had slept over with a school friend and Bella had gone on a blind date with the cousin of a college friend to the Ice Bar in Camden. He said he was a successful painter and Bella had had visions of Damien Hirst, but he turned out to paint houses and didn’t even seem to be doing that at the moment. He announced that he was skint and made Bella buy the drinks. At the end of the evening he had tried to
snog her and she had been too tired and depressed to push him away.
Bella was pleased when Monday came around. She put on a red skirt and high-heeled boots, and blow-dried her hair carefully with the thought of Rhys in her mind. She got into the office ten minutes before nine to find Anthea already there and taking a couple of paracetamol rather more ostentatiously than was strictly necessary.
– I’m still feeling terrible. My better half said I was mad to come in, and maybe he’s right. But I’m not one to lie around at home. I’m someone who needs to be busy all the time and I was stressing about what was happening here. If I’m away for more than a couple of days things get out of control and it takes me ages to sort them out.
– It was all quite easy last week, said Bella. There was very little to do. I did a briefing paper for James on the hacks he’s taking on the oilfield trip.
Anthea pursed her lips.
– Well. Obviously I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but when you’ve been a PA as long as I have, you’ll know that it’s getting the basics right that they thank you for. The add-ons are the cherry on the cake. But if you aren’t doing the basics – they are the meat and veg …
All this talk of food seemed to be making Anthea feel hungry. She reached into the drawer of her desk and got out a biscuit.
– Why don’t you take one of these to himself? He’s rather partial.
Bella felt disinclined to disturb her boss with a caramel HobNob, but neither did she want to upset Anthea. So she got up and put her head around his door.
– Do you want a cup of tea and one of Anthea’s biscuits?
James looked up, frowned, but on seeing Bella standing there, smiled.
– Thanks. I’ve had three cups of coffee and God knows how many biscuits in the Heads of Department meeting.
He looked down at his stomach and gave it a pat. Bella glanced at it too, round like a dome through his expensive blue cotton shirt.
– While you’re here, Bella, he said, you were right about that Times journalist. Look what he wrote. I spent the entire lunch last Thursday explaining our strategy, and he’s written some crap about us using our windfall profits to reward ourselves and screw the motorist. It’s pathetic, lazy, inaccurate drivel! I’m just composing an email to his editor now … come and read what I’ve written.
In Office Hours Page 6
