‘It’s a congratulations card,’ she said, sliding it over the kitchen table to him.
‘Do you want anything to eat?’
‘No… no, I’m fine. I might just get straight off and have a bath, if you don’t mind. You are pleased I got the job, aren’t you?’ she asked as he read the card.
‘Of course I am.’
‘Are you sure? I haven’t upset you, have I, by going to London?’
He finally met her eye and lifted his chin. ‘I’m proud of you, Beth. You and Louisa both, but I wish you hadn’t had to do it. It should be me supporting the family.’
Her heart sank a little. ‘Please don’t say that. You can’t help what’s happened and it makes me proud to be able to help. If I can’t look after my own family when the chips are down, who can?’
She wound her arms around his shoulders and hugged him ‘Dad, I love you. You and Lou-lou. And we’ll stick together just like we always have, no matter what happens.’
She felt the pressure of his hand against her back as they held each other, fighting back the tears. He tightened her grip before they both broke away.
‘Where has Lou gone this time?’ she asked.
‘To a party at the boat club. I warned her to be back by twelve. I don’t like the lot that go down there. Always smoking wacky tobacky and knocking back cheap cider like it’s going out of fashion. Honor says I’m worrying too much, but I can’t help it. And as for that Greg Wilson, he’s a total waster.’
‘Hmm. He’s trouble, but I shouldn’t worry about the booze,’ she added, thinking of her own performance the previous night last night and crossing her fingers. ‘Or about Greg. Louisa’s got her head screwed on.’
‘I’m still going to wait up,’ he said firmly.
‘It could be late, Dad.’
‘All the same…’
Knowing when to admit defeat with him, she changed the subject. ‘Louisa said Marcus had been round while I was away…’
‘He has. He was fishing for some info on the local council. Fancies getting into politics, I think. I don’t think I told him anything very useful…’ he paused, then added, ‘He asked after you.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I said you’d got another interview yesterday. I thought there was no point in going into it all before we knew you’d got the job.’
‘I’ve spoken to him once and I’m going to tell him everything tomorrow.’
‘How do you think he’ll take it?’
‘I don’t know. I can still see him, you know. He can come and visit me and I’ll be home as often as I can. It’s not the other side of the world…’
But it almost was, as far as Marcus was concerned. The next morning, she caught him during a lunch break at the Frayle dealership. They sat on a bench behind the showroom and ate Cumbrian sausage on rolls overlooking the lake.
‘I know it’s a shock but I have to do this,’ said Beth, throwing a piece of roll to the ducks crowding greedily round their bench.
‘Don’t do that. It only encourages them to come onto the premises,’ said Marcus, eyeing a mallard with distaste.
Beth reached for his hand and squeezed it. ‘Marcus, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the job but it all happened so fast. I didn’t even expect to get a reply, let alone an interview, and as for landing this job—’
‘How long will you be away?’
She hesitated, just long enough.
‘That bad?’
She sighed. ‘Six months.’
‘Doing what, may I ask?’
‘Product Manager, responsible for the development of the European program. It’s a temporary role, almost a consultancy job, so the money’s good and it will be great on my résumé. They’re called Big Outdoors—you might have heard of them…’
‘Actually, no, I haven’t,’ said Marcus, eyeing her critically from his cool blue eyes. He was very good-looking, especially today in his Armani suit and pale blue shirt. Lots of women for miles were after him. She was lucky to have a man like him who cared about her. If their relationship could survive six months and three hundred miles of on-off separation, then surely it must be the real thing.
‘You may as well know I’m not happy about you going off like this,’ he said cutting into her thoughts. ‘You might have told me first; instead I had to hear it off Louisa.’
‘That was very wrong of me but I didn’t want to mention it until I was sure it was all definite. It was a long shot, really, but in hindsight, I agree that it wasn’t fair on you.’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ he said, shaking his foot at a duck.
‘But six months isn’t that long and it’s only London. I’ll be back home as often as I can and you can come down and see me if you can get away from work. We can have lots of fun.’
He looked thoughtful and then his face brightened. ‘Well, I’m no fan of London, as you know. That bloody congestion charge is a crackpot notion for a start, but you do have a point. If I can get Robert Haynes to take over here for a weekend, I could give the Porsche a good blast down the outside lane of the M6. I’ve been meaning to see how the old girl performs on a long run—and see you, of course,’ he added.
‘Yes,’ she said, relieved to see him happier again. She slipped her arm through his. ‘You see, it really isn’t the end of the world, after all, and Camden Town is on the edge of the charging zone so you won’t have to fork out.’
‘It’s not the money, it’s the principle,’ said Marcus, pursing his lips.
They finished their lunch while she told him more about the job and listened to his plans to run for the local council. Then, hand-in-hand, they started to walk back up the grass towards the showroom.
‘Shit!’
Marcus lifted up his foot and wrinkled his nose.
‘What’s up?’ she asked.
‘Those bloody ducks will have to go. These shoes cost nearly two hundred quid!’
Chapter 11
Jack loosened his tie and undid his top button as the August sun beat down fiercely on the plate-glass windows. Even with the air-con up high, his office was stuffy as the temperature reached the eighties out on the London streets.
It seemed a long, long time since Beth had slunk out of his apartment the day following her interview. In the months that had passed since then, he’d done his utmost not to treat her as anything more than a colleague. And he’d succeeded. Most of the time.
In fact, there had been occasions over the past few months when he hadn’t seen her for days on end. She’d been abroad quite a bit, liaising with suppliers, assessing and setting up tours. He’d been away too, at a series of industry conferences.
It was when they were both in the office that the trouble started. Only the previous week, he’d been hearing her present at one of the fortnightly product managers meetings. It had taken every ounce of his concentration to focus on her report and not the sassy skirt and heels she was wearing. Or rather, what was in them.
He picked up the desk phone, determined to focus on his work. ‘Martha, are you still here?’
‘It seems that way, Jack. What can I do for you?’ Martha sounded as world-weary as ever.
‘Before you leave, could you just drop an email to Freya Scott? I need to reschedule our discussion of her promotion.’
‘No problem. But you know, you don’t really have to do that. One of the HR people could take care of it for you.’
‘I’d like to have a one-to-one with as many staff as possible as soon as possible. It will help me get to know the team better,’ he said firmly, aware that another one-to-one with him might be as welcome as colonic irrigation.
‘It’s done. I’ll arrange a time with Freya.’
‘Thanks. Now get off home.’
Drafting in Freya to help Beth develop the European portfolio had been a great idea and now she deserved an official promotion to Assistant Product Manager. Freya was enthusiastic and keen to learn and Beth seemed to be thriving on the responsibility. They g
et on well together out of the office too. He’d seen them together in the Fat Face store in Covent Garden a couple of weeks before. Not that he went clothes shopping that often, but he’d ‘needed’ some new jeans for dress-down Fridays. He hoped they hadn’t noticed him coming out of the changing rooms laden with a surfer sweatshirt and three T-shirts as well as the jeans. The phone rang, startling him. It was Martha again.
‘Oh, I almost forgot—that travel journalist woman called back,’ she said.
‘Camilla Reed?’
‘Yes. That’s the one. I said you were in a meeting and that I’d pass on the message. She’s insisting you call her.’
He could almost hear his PA’s knowing smile down the line. Camilla calling him regularly, now that would give Martha something to think about.
‘OK. I’ll see if I can get hold of her now. Have a nice evening, Martha.’
He opened his BlackBerry and found Camilla’s number. From what he could remember of her from the States, she was willowy, blonde, and every inch as uptown as her perfectly formed vowels. He suspected an in-depth profile wasn’t the only thing she was interested in but had decided that might not be such a bad thing. Mightn’t a little bad behavior with Camilla be just what he needed right now? Beth was happily coupled up, why shouldn’t he have a bit of fun? He wasn’t a monk, after all…
The ringtone had barely had time to squeak before she picked it up.
‘Why hello, Jack. I thought you’d left the country or been kidnapped by aliens,’ she said coolly.
He shook his head, a smile on his face. ‘Nope. Just mega busy with work. Sorry I haven’t got back to you sooner.’
‘Poor you. Working your bottom off keeping the peasants in line.’
‘The guys have been working very hard. They keep me in line, as a matter of fact. We’re in the middle of a major expansion, as you may know from the trade press.’
He heard her tutting on the end of the line. ‘Jack, darling, relax. I get the corporate message loud and clear. Now, I presume because you’ve finally deigned to call, that you’re going to concede defeat and grant me my interview.’
‘I suppose I’ll have to surrender, won’t I?’
‘I’m afraid you will. Now, let me see when I can fit you in. Hmm, I’m in Switzerland for a few days but I’m free after that. You can pick me up on Friday at seven. Number 223, West Court, Knightsbridge.’
‘I’ll have to check my calendar first…’
‘I don’t think so,’ she snapped. ‘You see, I’ve been checking up on you and I doubt you’ve any other offers. You’re a workaholic. Everyone in the business says so. I absolutely won’t take no for an answer so there’s no escape. Be there at seven or I might have to get very cross indeed,’ she added sharply.
***
The following Friday, Beth found herself on her hands and knees in the dark. She was rummaging frantically in the stationery cupboard in the office she shared with Freya. Knowing she had precisely five minutes to find the paper, print off her latest progress report, and collate it ready for the product managers’ meeting.
‘Freya! Do you know where the printer paper is? It’s run out again!’
She lifted up a pile of Christmas decorations in the recesses of the cupboard, hoping a miracle would unearth a forgotten ream of paper underneath the tinsel. She’d spent until the last minute polishing the report to perfection. She’d had to. Jack had been pushing all the managers really hard over the past few months. He expected them to come up with new revenue-producing tours and was constantly setting new targets. He also expected everyone at her level to meet up with him every two weeks and brief him of new and existing work. Today, she was presenting with Tom Jeffries, the South American product manager and Shreeya Patel, who developed the African sector.
‘Freya, hon!’ she called, as the stationery cupboard drew a blank. ‘Do you know where the paper is? I’d hate to be late for this, not after all the work we’ve both put in on these new tour ideas.’
‘Here we are. Chill.’
‘You are a complete star,’ said Beth, straightening up to find Freya bearing a ream of paper. ‘Where d’you get it?’
‘That skinny surfer dude in the accounts department.’
‘Ohh. What did you have to do for it?’
‘Sell my body,’ said Freya, hiding the rest of the paper in her drawer.
‘That goes beyond the call of duty,’ said Beth as the printer decided to play ball for once.
‘We-ell… I did have to promise to go tubing at the Snodome.’
‘Freya, you are a star and I just don’t know what—’
‘You’d do without me?’
‘Not spend so much money on clothes? Drink within the recommended limits? Not be trying out Goji berries and pomegranate juice and any other craze that’s going to be the key to eternal life and a state of earthly bliss?’
Freya pushed out her tongue. ‘Don’t mock. Goji berries are good. Dave brought some back from the Himalayas. They have five hundred times the Vitamin C of oranges and the locals say people who eat them have a life expectancy of one hundred and fifty.’
‘I’ll have a life expectancy of five minutes if I don’t get this printed off for the meeting. And by the way, I couldn’t have got through the past few months without you.’
‘Shall I collate the report for you?’
‘Yes, please. And do you have stats and demographics on the Lapland trekking package?’
Freya tapped a folder on her desk. ‘Right here.’
‘You’re a geek. You know that?’
Freya pulled a face. ‘No one’s ever called me a geek before, but I suppose I could get used to it. Now get a move on or you’ll be late for He Who Must Be Obeyed.’
Beth smiled in what she hoped was an enigmatic way, then, clutching the folder, she dashed out of the office towards the management suite.
As she walked inside, Tom and Shreeya were already sitting around the mini-boardroom table. Their boss, however, was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where’s Jack?’
‘Bathroom?’ offered Tom Jeffries.
‘Batcave?’ said Shreeya Patel.
‘Boardroom,’ said Jack, from behind them. ‘I’ve just been on the phone to the chairman and I’ve told him you’re all about to make my day with your stunning sales figures and inspired new product ideas.’
Laughter, soft and expected, filled the room. Beth’s stomach fluttered gently. It was dress-down Friday. Jack’s suit hung on a hanger from the coat stand in the corner. Just in case he had to meet anyone important, she thought, but for now, he was wearing a Fat Face T-shirt. Spread across his broad chest was a slogan that read: ‘Better a bad day on the water than a good one in the office.’ She stifled a laugh as he ordered coffees and Danish from Martha. She was sure these were the clothes she and Freya had spotted him buying a few weeks ago.
‘OK, joking apart,’ he said, pulling out a chair, ‘I know you’re all working flat out, but I think these meetings are really valuable. We’ve made significant progress already and some of your new tours are now on the website and selling, but we can’t let up, not even for a moment. Tom, do you want to kick off?’
Beth tried to concentrate on her colleagues’ reports as Jack occasionally nodded in approval then followed it up with a barrage of questions. As Shreeya was finishing her presentation, the door opened and Martha came in with the coffee and pastries.
‘Let’s have five minutes,’ said Jack.
She nibbled at a pain au chocolat, but inside her stomach swirled. She didn’t know why these meetings had such an effect on her. She’d done her homework and she had some great ideas to present. If only she didn’t keep getting fixated on Jack’s arms. He had an Animal watch on today and the Velcro was strapped a little too tightly round his wrist.
‘Beth? Are you ready?’
‘Um?’
‘The European report?’
She desperately hoped she wasn’t blushing. ‘Oh, sorry. Yes. Europe.’
/>
Quickly, she gathered herself and launched into her presentation, running through the new tour ideas she and Freya had come up with and costed out.
‘Interesting,’ said Jack, when she’d finished. ‘Some promising ideas there.’
Promising, she thought, promising sounded good. Possibly.
‘I really buy into the mountain bike package and as for the idea of Turkish white-water rafting on the Coru—inspired.’
She tried to stop herself breaking into a grin. ‘I tried the rafting myself a few years ago. It was awesome. But what do you think about the dog sledding break?’
Jack paused, flicking through the report. ‘An interesting idea—sleeping in genuine Sami tents, looking after your own husky team, then visiting ICEHOTEL in Jukkasjarvi…’
‘Profitable too,’ she added.
‘The figures look like they have potential…’
‘But?’
‘Not a but. Not really. On the other hand, you know, I think we could get even more of a margin out of these figures. And I’m not sure you’ve got a broad enough demographic. Not quite. Can you have a rethink and report back later today?’
‘Today?’
‘Yes, please. I have a meeting with the board on Monday. I’d like to go and present this as something on the website, knowing the figures are cut-and-dried.’
‘Well, I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure whether there’s much room for maneuver from the supplier and we don’t want to compromise the quality of the experience.’
Jack smiled. ‘Convince them of the attractiveness of gaining a foothold in our business. Don’t be afraid of a bit of brinkmanship. Let me know what you come up with. I’ll be around until eight-ish.’
‘So,’ said Tom, as the managers walked out of the meeting later. ‘No Friday sushi this lunchtime?’
‘And I presume you won’t make the film after work?’ said Shreeya, pulling a face.
Beth sighed. ‘It does look like I’ll have to pass on the sushi but I’ll do my best to get to the film, if I can have these revamped stats ready. I’ll see you there or meet you in the Bird in Hand afterwards.’
Wish You Were Here Page 7
