Wish You Were Here

by Phillipa Ashley

  He stood well back as she stepped into the room. ‘I’m glad you decided to give us another try,’ he said, before gesturing to a chair opposite his desk.

  He waited for her to sit down before settling into a big black leather chair.

  ‘We got off on the wrong foot yesterday. Do you want to rewind?’ he asked as she tried to appear cool and in control.

  She hesitated. He seemed to be holding out an olive branch.

  ‘Maybe I was a bit hasty yesterday,’ she said after a short but painful silence.

  ‘Maybe I should have warned you.’

  ‘Yes. I think you should have.’

  He nodded. ‘In hindsight, yes. And I apologize.’

  ‘Me too. For walking out and hurling abuse at you.’

  He gave her a brief smile. ‘Don’t worry about the abuse too much. I’ve had worse. Now, let’s start again from the beginning, shall we?’

  The beginning, she could have told him, had happened eight years before, but she smiled back, just as briefly. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair, and she busied herself unpacking notes from her briefcase. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt and she found herself comparing him with the man she’d fallen in love with. When they’d first met, he’d had thick dark hair that was always flopping into his eyes, surfer-style. Now his hair was cropped almost military-short, which somehow made him seem harder. Beneath the tan, she also thought he looked tired.

  ‘Was your conference the Travel Trade Weekly event? Did it go well?’ she asked, when they’d both run out of things to occupy their hands with.

  He smiled. ‘In some ways. If I wanted to know how well our competitors are doing by taking our ideas and developing them, it was a great conference.’

  She took it as a cue to start her pitch. So far, he seemed to have taken her warning about keeping things professional to heart and she was grateful. ‘I’ve been doing some research,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, I think you’re missing an opportunity with some sectors of the market.’

  Jack folded his arms. ‘Possibly.’

  ‘You’re still number one in the student and gap year sector, but I think you should develop some of your traditional packages for the more mature market.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s interesting, because we’ve already started moving in that direction.’

  She wasn’t sure whether she felt disappointed or pleased that her plans had been anticipated. One thing she did know—Jack wasn’t going to make things easy for her. She knew he liked pushing people. When they’d first met, he’d persuaded people on the trek to do things they’d sworn they’d never do. But she didn’t know him anymore. She handed over some sheets, stapled together and slotted into a plastic wallet. ‘I have some proposals here, if you want to take a look.’

  ‘Thanks. We’ll discuss these in a minute, if that’s OK,’ he replied, picking up her résumé from the desk, lifting the top sheet and studying it for a moment.

  She knew they were circling around each other, both wanting to keep things strictly professional, both sensing the other’s mood. She felt a little twist in her stomach. Any good interviewer would have picked up on the nuances; it wasn’t because they’d once known each another.

  ‘I had another read through your résumé during a break at the conference. It’s quite impressive,’ said Jack.

  ‘Only “quite”?’

  ‘It’s a great résumé, but we’ll come to that in a minute. I need to make something clear first. You do know I only have a vacancy for a temporary position? It’s with our European sector as a Product Manager. If you join us, it will only be for six months. I’ve got someone coming back from maternity leave late in the year and we’ll be fully staffed again.’

  ‘Of course. That suits me perfectly.’

  ‘OK, then. First things first. Why did you choose to send your résumé to Big Outdoors?’

  ‘It would be a unique experience to work for a successful company,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Hmm. Working for us would be a unique experience, I agree, but if you don’t mind me saying, I’m not totally convinced by your reply.’

  Inwardly, she agreed with him. Her reply had been a bit hackneyed and if Jack had been any other potential employer, he might already have been striking her from his list as too unimaginative.

  ‘It’s an up-and-coming company…’ she went on.

  He raised an eyebrow and an ironic smile twisted his mouth. ‘Even with our competitors encroaching on our territory and a new chief exec?’

  ‘I’m convinced those issues won’t affect the company’s success. In fact, with an ambitious new managing director, the business should go from strength to strength. Not that I knew you were in charge when I applied.’

  ‘It hasn’t been announced—officially—yet. The press release goes out next week,’ he said smoothly.

  ‘I check the trade press regularly. I didn’t see you in it,’ said Beth.

  ‘You wouldn’t. I’ve been in the States, working as ops director for a travel firm out there. Big Outdoors has been courting me for some time but I’ve kept a very low profile. Anyway, let’s focus on you. Your résumé is very interesting. On the other hand, you haven’t taken on a role this big—with a company this major—before.’

  ‘No, but I can bring energy and a fresh approach to the role,’ she declared, noting the way he’d steered the conversation back to her. ‘I did handle a similar role with Trailburners for three years. Take another look at my résumé and see what I’ve been doing recently.’

  Flipping up the top sheet, he scanned the page. ‘I need someone who can devise and deliver some new packaged products that will produce revenue. Your ideas about focusing on a more mature and affluent market are great in principle but we’ll need to do our research on them thoroughly to convince travel industry clients to offer them.’

  ‘I know that there would be a lot of work to do at both the supplier and client end,’ she said, feeling the adrenaline stirring. ‘If I got the role, I’d envisage being very proactive. Really get out there and test run the tours, build links with overseas operators, negotiate hard on terms, let them know what we expect of them and that we’re prepared to work as real partners to help them develop the perfect package for guests.’

  She suddenly became aware of his eyes on her, intent, a slight smile on his lips. ‘I’m sorry if I’m gushing, but I just get a bit carried away. It’s the way I did things in my previous role and it brought results.’

  He smiled more broadly. ‘It’s OK. Enthusiasm is one thing we do need.’

  ‘You know I helped Trailburners increase their market share by fifteen percent,’ she added, sensing he was impressed.

  ‘That’s good. Now they have a two percent share to our thirty.’

  She was undaunted. ‘It’s a start. I know Trailburners is a small outfit compared to a major player like Big Outdoors, but I have ambition and energy…’ and, she wanted to add, there can’t be that many people with my experience interested in a temporary contract.

  ‘You’ve convinced me of your commitment, but what I want to know, Beth, is what are you doing right now? It says here you’re taking a sabbatical. That could mean anything from working your way round the world to twiddling your thumbs at home.’

  ‘I do not twiddle. I wouldn’t know how to.’

  Jack put down her résumé, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms. ‘What exactly have you been doing since you left Trailburners? Climbing? Guiding?’

  ‘Organizing walking tours for families, middle-aged couples—ramblers, birdwatchers, you know the sort of thing. I know it doesn’t sound that impressive, but actually it’s been highly relevant experience. Double income couples with no kids, families with teens, older people—they all want a taste of adventure and they have cash and time to do it. And I’ve been doing my homework; you’ll see there are some figures attached to my résumé.’

  �
�OK, I’m impressed.’

  She gritted her teeth. ‘Well, I haven’t just been twiddling.’

  ‘I can see that,’ he said rolling his pen between his fingers. ‘Beth, I’m not doubting your credentials and I like your ideas, but I do have other candidates in mind.’

  ‘Oh…’

  Here it comes, she thought, this is the part where he told her ‘thanks, but no thanks.’ Her stomach plummeted but she sat up straight, determined not to let him see how disappointed she was.

  Jack dropped his pen on the desk. ‘I won’t prolong your agony any longer. I do have other people in mind, but I’ll be frank. I haven’t invited them for interview. I’ve every confidence you’ll do a great job for us.’

  Her stomach zoomed to the top of the building. ‘Really?’

  ‘Rule number one. Don’t look so surprised when someone offers you what you think you don’t deserve.’

  ‘I do deserve it!’ she burst out.

  He laughed. ‘Beth, relax. The job’s yours.’

  Any other time, any other place, she would have felt like jumping for joy. The part of her that cared about Louisa and her family was jumping. But the other part felt apprehension at the prospect of spending six months as his employee. She couldn’t suppress the sense that he’d done her a favor, no matter how much she knew she could handle the role. That made her beholden and answerable to him.

  Jack moved to the front of the desk and held out a hand.

  ‘Before we shake hands I do have one condition, though,’ she said, her heart racing.

  Confusion flickered across his eyes, but she pressed on. ‘I am your employee now and I want to be treated as only that. I want us to behave as colleagues. And…’—she didn’t know if she dared say this but she had to, no matter what it cost her—‘I’m really grateful for the opportunity to work here, but I never ever want us to discuss the past. What went on between us is history and I’ll be straight out of the door if you even mention it.’

  ‘Beth—’

  ‘Jack, that’s it. I don’t want to speak about it. Ever. Those are my terms.’ She held out her hand and hoped it was steadier than it felt.

  His fingers closed around hers firmly. ‘I suppose I have no choice. It’s a deal.’

  The look that crossed his face could have been remorse or guilt, but Beth didn’t know and told herself she didn’t want to know. All that mattered from now on was the future: hers and her family’s.

  ‘We won’t speak of it, then, if that’s truly what you want.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Then you’ll be relieved to know I haven’t the slightest intention of treating you any differently to anyone else on my staff. If that means bawling you out in front of them,’ he added, grinning, ‘I’ll do it without a second thought. That’s a promise.’

  She felt shaky inside, but returned the joke—at least, she hoped it was a joke. ‘I’m glad to hear it. If you’re going to give someone a bollocking, I say at least do it properly.’

  ‘Agreed.’ He smiled. ‘And playing by your rules, if you want me to treat you like any other employee, you shouldn’t have any problem with coming for a celebratory drink with your new boss.’

  Chapter 7

  Ten minutes later, Beth experienced the bizarre situation of being ushered into a bar by a man who, twenty-four hours before, she’d never expected or wanted to see again in her life. Tucked away up a side street, the place Jack had chosen was buzzing even at this early hour. As they made their way inside, the buzz of voices rolled over her. Only on a weekend at the height of the tourist season were bars ever this busy back in the Lakes.

  She hunted down a seat while he fought his way through the power suits. Fortunately, a couple had just vacated a two-seater in a corner and she slipped onto it, squeezing her case between the wall and couch. She’d had misgivings about accepting his invitation and had then relented, reasoning if they couldn’t start to behave in something approaching a normal way, there was no hope for a future working relationship. A shiver ran up her spine as she thought about what that concept really meant. In a day, the past had not only caught up with her, but crashed down on her like a great big wave. After eight years apart, they were going to see each other virtually every day.

  ‘What time’s your train?’ he asked, returning from the bar with a glass of Pinot Grigio for her and a Cobra beer for himself.

  ‘In a couple of hours,’ she said, shuffling along the two-seater. He sat down beside her, barely a hand’s span between them. Close-up, she got a proper look at the new Jack. Was there the odd grey strand among his dark hair, she wondered, or was she imagining it? She certainly wasn’t imagining the tiny lines fanning out from the corner of his eyes. At least they were still the same, not quite blue, not quite black, like slate after rain.

  In reaching for her glass, her arm bumped against his, spilling a few drops of wine on his fingers.

  ‘Sorry. It’s a bit of a crush in here, but everywhere will be the same, I’m afraid,’ said Jack, sucking Pinot Grigio from his fingers.

  ‘Is it always this busy?’ she asked, putting the tremor in her hand down to ebbing adrenaline.

  ‘Pretty much. You’ll hardly be able to get through the door in half an hour. Everyone’s dropping in for drinks before they brave the commute.’

  ‘You too?’

  ‘No. I only live a couple of blocks away,’ he said, raising his beer bottle to her in a toast. She held her breath.

  ‘Slainte.’

  ‘Slainte,’ she murmured, taking refuge in a gulp of Pinot, knowing that the last time she’d heard that toast had been round a dying campfire in Corsica. Most nights they’d toasted the group they were trekking with before slipping away to talk, to kiss, and, finally, to make love. It had been during her first vacation from university, a trip she’d been forced to go through with after a friend had dropped out. She’d arrived at Figari airport, knowing no one. Jack, the trek leader, had sought her out, made her feel at ease. That part, at least, had been his job. A job he was still doing now, perhaps even more skillfully.

  ‘So why did you leave Trailburners last year?’ he asked, setting the bottle back on the table.

  She forced herself to separate the man sitting here in suit and tie from the one she’d once followed, naked, into the maquis. Otherwise, she was never going to get through the next few months.

  ‘I had no choice but to come home because Dad and Louisa needed me. Dad had an accident, you see.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Jesus, Beth. Why didn’t you say so at the start? What kind of accident? Is he badly hurt?’

  ‘He’s on the mend—slowly—and I didn’t want to get into this at the interview because I didn’t want to play the sympathy card. I don’t expect you to employ me out of pity, Jack. I just want to help out my family. They need me.’

  ‘You needn’t worry about the sympathy part. You got the job on your own merits, and as for your family, they’re lucky to have you, I’m sure. Now, tell me what happened.’

  ‘I—I’m sure you don’t really want to hear the whole saga. I mean, it’s irrelevant to the job.’

  ‘But not irrelevant to our working relationship. I’m not an ogre. I do care about what happens to the people I work with.’

  She hesitated, wondering just how much to tell him.

  ‘Come on, you’ve started now.’

  His eyes, fringed with thick dark lashes she’d once envied, were full of concern. He was still so good at drawing you out of yourself.

  ‘He was in a mountain bike crash on Hard Knott Pass last summer, coming down a one-in-three slope. We’re not sure exactly what happened—maybe his brakes were dodgy but that doesn’t seem very likely.’ She shook her head and allowed herself the small luxury of a smile. ‘It was ironic, really. Dad’s paranoid about safety so maybe he just got a bit overconfident on a bend. Whatever caused him to come off the bike, he messed himself up totally.’

  Jack winced. ‘It sounds like a nightmare scenario. I can only
imagine the damage he’s done to himself. A guy I used to work with came off a trail in Yosemite. He was off work for six months but I suppose he was lucky to get away with that… like your dad?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said he’s probably lucky to be alive, considering the speed and the gradient and what he connected with.’

  ‘How’s he coping now?’

  ‘Well, compared to the state of him when they airlifted him to hospital, OK. I suppose. OK-ish. He had various broken bones, a few ribs went, a smashed jaw, severe concussion, lacerations…’

  Jack looked in pain himself as she named some of his injuries, making them sound like a shopping list. No shopping list, she reminded herself, had ever caused so much pain. She’d never forgotten the shock, like a sledgehammer to the body, when she’d seen her father lying in intensive care, wired up to machines and drips, almost invisible beneath tubes and wires and dressings. Until that day she’d thought Steve Allen was a big man, but he’d been diminished somehow by the machines, the paraphernalia that was keeping him alive.

  ‘He spent months in hospital, then the community nurse was visiting every other day and he still has physio once a week. It’s been… an experience.’

  ‘Beth, I am sorry.’

  She shook her head, aware she’d been sitting, lips compressed together, tensed up. She’d told the tale to so many people over the months, but telling Jack was different. More difficult, somehow, especially as he was being so sympathetic—so damn nice.

  ‘Do you want another drink?’ he asked suddenly. She glanced down. Her glass was empty.

  ‘I shouldn’t but… are you having one?’

  ‘Yes. I’m not driving anywhere tonight. I’ll have another beer.’

  ‘A small glass of the same, please, then.’

  When he got back, he had two glasses.