It's Not Me, It's You

by Mhairi McFarlane

  ‘I wouldn’t carry on working for him anyway,’ Delia said. ‘Not after this.’ She’d have gladly stayed out until closing time, but Steph needed to get back to Chelmsford. Delia bid her fond farewell and shared promises to meet for proper drinks soon.

  Left alone with the last inch of her beer, Delia took stock. She was working for a principle-free sexual harasser who’d spy on and threaten young members of staff he’d sacked, invent cancers, suicides and sex tapes for the press and plotted to throw clients overboard if his machinations were exposed. Not quite what she’d hoped and dreamed for her new life in the capital.

  Delia was ashamed it had taken her so long to realise what she had to do. In an exhilarating rush, the answers came to her, loud and clear.

  She hit Adam’s number on her phone. No reply, and she didn’t want to leave a message. She texted ‘Please answer my call’, but no reply came.

  Delia was going to have to take the fight right to his door.

  It was easy enough to find Adam’s house again, being as it was only two minutes’ walk from Clapham High Street, the windows veiled by all that unpruned ivy. It was a pleasant redbrick ex-council 1960s terrace, on a street full of a schizophrenic mixture of low-rise tower blocks and Georgian semis with sweet-wrapper-shiny sports cars outside.

  Delia knocked the door and waited. Dougie answered.

  ‘Hello, is Adam in?’ she said, and felt as if she was fifteen years old.

  ‘He’s at the shops,’ Dougie said. He was less wan than when Delia last saw him, and seemed vaguely disquieted.

  ‘Can I wait for him? I’m Delia. We’ve met.’

  Dougie’s frown deepened.

  ‘Adam said if this girl came round I shouldn’t let her in. Ginger hair, pretty face and—’ Dougie made rolling and cupping hand gestures to indicate generous bosoms.

  Delia reddened.

  ‘I’m fairly sure that is you,’ Dougie said, solemnly.

  ‘It certainly sounds a bit like me,’ Delia agreed, pointing to her fringe, glad of an overcast day and thus the coat shrouding her chest.

  ‘Sorry,’ Dougie said.

  ‘Not to worry, I’ll wait out here,’ Delia said.

  Dougie’s brow furrowed as he wondered if this was allowed. His eventual shrug said his housemate hadn’t added a Sitting On The Low Wall In The Front Garden clause, and Minecraft and a Coors Light were calling.

  Delia dropped her bag, sat down and thought: Adam thinks I’m pretty? Though the boobs mime was a bit much.

  Adam came wandering down the street with two lumpily misshapen orange Sainsbury’s bags only minutes later, and Delia leapt to her feet. He was in a combination of fashionably washed-out grey things and fashionably beat-up brown shoes.

  Adam looked startled to see her.

  ‘Off my property, thanks very much.’

  ‘I want to talk to you.

  ‘The feeling isn’t mutual.’

  ‘To apologise, and to offer you the chance to give Kurt what he deserves. Do a proper exposé about Twist & Shout and stop the old people’s home scam, with me helping.’

  ‘An opportunity to work with Kurt Spicer’s girlfriend. Mmm, let me think about that.’

  ‘I’m not his girlfriend.’

  ‘Lovers’ tiff? Or do you not put a label on your crazy connection? Slam piece, then.’

  ‘I’m not doing anything like that with Kurt and I never was.’

  Adam stepped past her, onto the front path.

  ‘Which Delia am I meeting today? The one with the big sad eyes who might be about to see the error of her ways, or the one who’ll make false statements about me committing a sexual offence to police? The one who’s helped a stool sample of a man like Lionel Blunt?’

  ‘Kurt’s sacked Steph. He’s getting the latest client to fake having cancer. We think he’s been secretly filming us. I want to work with you to stop him.’

  ‘Now he’s done something bad to you and someone you like, you’re bothered? Shame for me I didn’t fall into the latter category.’

  Delia tried to answer but he cut her off.

  ‘You know what I find the least forgivable, Delia? The time I saw you at the cinema, those things you said to me about me being a good guy. You need a toxic soul to play-act something like that. At least with other lies they have a point, they’re intended to achieve something. That was optional, lay-it-on-thick lying for the pleasure of ridiculing me.’

  This made Delia think of Paul, and the hurt of the grandstanding fibs he told her that were pure embroidery.

  ‘I’ve been lied to like that and I know how you feel. That isn’t what happened. I did mean it when I said you were kind. I hadn’t remembered the conversation with Freya, then.’

  ‘Uh?’

  ‘I can explain. Let me come in for five minutes.’

  ‘No thanks, I have a risotto to make,’ Adam held up one of his bags, ‘and the rest of my life you promised to leave me alone to enjoy.’

  Delia darted forward and took Adam’s shopping bags from him. He was so surprised he surrendered them. She placed them in the porch and turned to him.

  ‘Here’s what happened. The night you saved me from Kurt, my memory was patchy. For example, I did remember Freya telling me you’d slept with everyone, and that was quite late in the evening.’

  Adam glowered and clenched his jaw.

  ‘… But I don’t remember anything I said about Paul. The conversation between you and Freya, it had been lost to the booze fog too. Then after we met at the cinema, on my walk home – bang, suddenly it came back to me. I know you say you didn’t mean those things and I believe you, but put yourself in my position. If you’d overheard me telling someone I was going to destroy you, wouldn’t you take it seriously? The morning on Westminster Bridge, I saw you and I panicked. I thought it was a ‘shoot first’ situation. I told Kurt about the folder, that you were there and it was my fault. He grabbed the police and said the awful stuff about you flashing me. I admit I went along with it; not my finest hour, but I didn’t know what else to do.’

  Adam raised and dropped his shoulders in a simultaneous expression of ‘OK’ and ‘so what?’

  ‘Alright, you didn’t mean to behave quite as badly as you came off. It doesn’t make me any more keen on a collaboration with you. Sorry.’

  ‘Even if I’m not sleeping with Kurt, and I’m genuinely offering the inside story you wanted to do about Twist & Shout?’

  ‘Even then,’ he said, flatly.

  Delia had a sudden, dispiriting sense that she’d lost his trust permanently. He now thought of her as Kurt’s viperous Lady Macbeth and Delia had been naïve to think there was a talking cure.

  ‘I mean, how do I know this isn’t a Kurt plan to fuck me up further? Last time I saw you, you were short on apologies. Now you turn up on my doorstep out of the blue offering to rat on your employer who you’re definitely not dating, despite admitting you were last time.’

  ‘I didn’t admit any such thing! You accused me and there was no space in that fight to correct you.’

  ‘I don’t trust you, and that’s not going to change. Farewell, Delia Moss. I hardly knew you.’

  Adam fished his house keys out of his pocket, opened the door, carried his bags through and shut it firmly in Delia’s face.

  She had sloped halfway down the street when she thought: no. I’m not taking that for an answer. I’m going to fight harder.

  Delia walked back to the house and rapped hard on the door. Adam opened it in his shirt sleeves, holding a packet of Lurpak.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘This is a bad decision. You’re right to be sceptical of me; I would be if I was you. It’s taken me a while to get my bearings. I did realise Kurt was bad, but it was like I’d climbed onto a moving vehicle and had to hang on for dear life. I thought you were going to throw me under the wheels. You have to admit, you haven’t been an obvious ally from the start, with all the piss-taking and blackmailing. I got my enemies mixed up. It’s taken me a wh
ile to sort out what I should do, but I’ve got there. I want to do the right thing. I’m going to take this care homes story to a journalist, even if it isn’t you.’

  Adam raised an eyebrow.

  ‘It’s my story.’

  ‘Exactly. It should be you.’

  ‘You’re blackmailing me now?’

  ‘I’m doing what’s right! If we’re going to stop the care homes deal, someone has to do the story.’

  Adam’s expression was impassive.

  ‘Think up any test you like to prove I am not in cahoots with Kurt, and I’ll take it.’

  Delia drew breath.

  ‘Also, if you’re making risotto, add some of that butter at the end as well as the beginning. It makes the texture better.’

  She gave a slight nod, to indicate ‘That’s me done’, and left Adam with these thoughts.

  After a difficult day in which she’d travelled all the way to South London to be called a third-rate human being, Delia could at least spend her evening cooking for Emma and chatting to Joe via email, laptop balanced on lap, wine to hand. And there was the small matter of uploading the next stage of Fantastic Miss Fox’s adventures. She had an audience. It was a revelation.

  The Fox is getting such brilliant feedback! People love it. I told you they would. Jx

  Joe had put a ‘Follow Me On Twitter!’ button on the ‘Fantastic Miss Fox’ website linked to Delia’s personal profile and her usually quiet account was beginning to get a steady stream of positivity and praise. Delia thought of what Emma had said at university. She should’ve listened to her.

  I know! It’s made me so happy! People aren’t taking the piss, are they? Dx

  Oh my God, OF COURSE NOT. I’m thinking if the traffic carries on heading upwards, you should think about taking it to a publisher? Hey, it’s occurred to me – if you ever fancy it, we could talk about this on Skype? Jx

  That’d be great. It’s OK, with your anxiety? Dx

  Yeah, very oddly, it’s fine. Put a computer in front of me and I can cope with anything, basically. Jx

  Then that sounds brilliant Dx

  Her mobile started to trill. Adam? Cautiously, Delia thought this was A Good Sign.

  ‘Delia,’ he said, briskly. ‘I’ve thought of a test to prove you’re not working with Kurt.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Send me a naked picture.’

  ‘How would I get that? I told you, I’m not sleeping with him.’

  ‘Of YOU, not him.’

  Delia’s mouth fell open.

  ‘How will that prove anything?’

  ‘You don’t need to understand my methods. Send it and we’ll go from there.’

  There was a brief silence as the penny dropped. Delia burst out laughing.

  ‘You utter bugger …’

  She felt she could hear Adam grinning.

  ‘Worth a punt. You’re seriously offering me a story on Twist & Shout?’

  Delia got her laughter under control.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘OK, let’s meet to talk about it. If I get the merest whiff of triple cross, I’m off. What’s the plan?’

  Delia had a plan in outline, she only had to clear it with the woman of the house. Fortunately, the woman of the house looked absolutely delighted at the prospect of hosting the event.

  ‘Adam West’s coming here? To my flat? As in here? To the flat?’

  ‘If that’s alright. Me, him and Steph need a safe place for discussing this business and we can’t be sure Kurt won’t see us anywhere else.’

  ‘It’s very alright. Can I wear a flimsy kimono and accidentally let it fall open?’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

  The following evening, Delia answered the door to a fresh-faced Steph, in her cycling gear, shaking her curls out of a yellow plastic helmet. Shortly after, a rather wary-looking and uncharacteristically polite Adam arrived.

  It was odd to see him on home territory. Delia got them both cups of tea, seated them on the sofa, took charge and kicked off the agenda. There was a very different dynamic between her and Adam, and Delia was glad of it.

  ‘The idea is that, between us, we find hard evidence on what Kurt’s doing in shuttling bungs to Lionel Blunt, and give it to Adam so he can write a piece about Twist & Shout and the care homes. Kurt gets his comeuppance, and we protect geriatrics from him at the same time.’

  ‘How did the Lucky Cat inspection go?’

  Delia winced. ‘I had to be quick, and like you said, I didn’t want it to record anything that’d be a giveaway. There’s a solid base with a solar panel in it, which could easily have a microphone in it. I have a feeling it has a camera, too. I looked up other Lucky Cats online and the eyes are usually painted. These have black glass pupils.’

  Delia and Steph looked at each other and shuddered.

  ‘I asked Emma about the legalities. You’re allowed to secretly film employees if you suspect them of a crime like thieving. So Kurt would carry on lying in court and try to destroy our reputations, I suppose.’

  ‘Almost certainly,’ Adam said.

  ‘Thank Christ the loo’s got nothing in it except a loo and a very manky bog brush,’ Steph said.

  ‘I could say I’m surprised but I’m not,’ Adam said, sipping his tea. ‘I take it the whistleblower option is out, I mean with regards to either of you giving me an interview?’

  ‘Steph and I signed contracts with non-disclosure clauses,’ Delia explained. ‘My friend Emma is a lawyer. I asked her to take a look and she said it’s not advisable to cross it.’

  There was a noise in the hall and Emma appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Did someone mention me?’

  Delia almost burst out laughing at what Emma was wearing: a full face of make-up, a black jumpsuit and wedge heels, half a handspan high. She wasn’t, to the best of Delia’s knowledge, going out anywhere.

  Delia composed herself to do introductions: ‘Emma – Steph, Adam.’

  Adam got to his feet and shook her hand, a possible sign of a private education in Delia’s opinion. Paul would be content with a cheery wave.

  ‘Thanks for letting us meet here. Great place.’

  ‘Oh! Thank you!’

  Emma suddenly looked like a sheepish toddler who had been told it had done something very clever by grown-ups, the suave ‘cocktail hour’ air of before somewhat diminished.

  ‘I see you’ve got drinks. Would you like stronger ones?’

  ‘I think we’re fine for now, thanks, Em,’ Delia said. ‘I was saying, the non-disclosure agreement in our contracts. It doesn’t leave much room?’

  Emma put her hand on her hip.

  ‘Not if you don’t want to be sued and lose. The cases I know of fighting NDAs are usually about ex-employees going to work for competitors. There, the judge is considering your right to work. There’s not likely to be as much sympathy for your right to blab, even if you’re saying your boss made bad things up or had a cat with secret video recorder eyes.’

  ‘Thanks. A lawyer in the house is useful when you’re crime-fighting.’

  ‘A necessary evil,’ Emma beamed, and Adam smiled back. Oh no, Delia thought, they’re not going to pull each other, are they? She hadn’t decided how she felt about that.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ Emma said, staring solely at Adam as she backed out of the room, wearing a gracious hostess smile.

  ‘Adam, what can we give you instead?’ Delia asked.

  A lascivious snort came from the hallway that Delia hoped he hadn’t heard.

  ‘I need concrete proof that Kurt’s acting as go between for Blunt and Lively Later Life. Failing that, catching him in the act of telling a whopping porker about anything, and we’ll go from there. One thing I find with investigations is if you pull at a small thread, other things start to unravel.’

  Delia and Steph threw around various items that had crossed their desks, but there was no single incident, or piece of evidence they could raise, that was any significant u
se. Delia had put pens and pads on the coffee table, and she increasingly felt the idea there’d be enough discussion to necessitate making notes was Girl Guide-optimistic.

  Kurt was more devious than they’d given him credit for.

  ‘He’s been clever about concealing things from us. Every time he made things up it stayed verbal, nothing on the computer system. He doesn’t need loyalty. It’s the mushroom treatment of keeping us in the dark and throwing crap at us,’ Delia said.

  ‘Kurt’s got to have incriminating Twist & Shout information stored somewhere,’ Adam said. ‘He’s not doing it all on scraps of paper he shreds.’

  ‘He said hard copies were safer than electronic,’ Steph said.

  ‘He said a lot of things to us for effect,’ Delia said. ‘He also told us those folders were highly confidential. When they were booby-trapped with fictitious clients and he didn’t much care what we did with them.’

  ‘We could turn the tables and record him?’ Steph said. ‘Get him to talk about clients and tape him?’

  Delia looked to Adam.

  ‘You said he usually doesn’t outline his most dastardly plans beforehand though?’ he said. ‘I can imagine it taking a while to get anything, and then his lawyers claiming it was your maverick leader’s Put The Mad Ideas Hat On And Sit In A Circle Humming Day or something.’

  ‘Better than nothing if we can’t get anything else, I suppose,’ Delia said, deflated. She strained to find something that didn’t make this meeting a busted flush.

  ‘Hang on, it’s not much, but … Kurt made an odd remark, when I told him about my leaving the folder in Balthazar. Something like how his secrets are stored in his “little friend”.’

  ‘Did he know any shifty dwarves?’ Adam said.

  ‘Wait!’ Steph said, holding both palms up. ‘One time I forgot my trainers and went back to the office, he was in there with his laptop. It had a USB stick in it. I remember because it was in the shape of a character, I think it was Superman. Kurt pulled it out fast and put it in his pocket, like he didn’t want me to see it.’