by Latham, D
A Very Corporate Affair
Book One
D A Latham
Copyright © 2013 D A Latham All rights reserved.
ISBN-10: 1490309772
ISBN-13: 978-1490309774
DEDICATION
To my dearest, darling Allan
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With thanks to all my advisors
Thomas Darlington
Andrea Mills
Michael Harte
Rebecca Elliott
Johanna Ballard
Penny Harrison
Gail Hayward
And
Sam Yazdani
CONTENTS
Acknowledgments
ii
Chapter 1
Pg 2
Chapter 2
Pg 17
Chapter 3
Pg 29
Chapter 4
Pg 38
Chapter 5
Pg 41
Chapter 6
Pg 54
Chapter 7
Pg 65
Chapter 8
Pg 74
Chapter 9
Pg 84
Chapter 10
Pg 92
Chapter 11
Pg 103
Chapter 12
Pg 112
Chapter 13
Pg 120
Chapter 14
Pg 128
Chapter 15
Pg 137
Chapter 16
Pg 146
Chapter 17
Pg 156
CHAPTER 1
I stood on Welling station shivering in the cold, and trying to calm the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. Today was the day of judgement at work. The day I would find out if my training contract would turn into a fully fledged job at Pearson and Hardwick, one of the big four law firms in London. If today went well, I would become a qualified, and gainfully employed, corporate lawyer. If today went badly, then six years of studying would be down the drain.
It had been a real slog to get this far. I came from a working class family, who didn't believe in social mobility, and thought I was wasting my time. I had worked hard at Bexley Grammar to get top grades and secure a place at Cambridge to study law and business. I had kept my head down through university and had put in enough effort to gain a first. A year long legal practitioner course led to my traineeship, and another two years of intense concentration at Pearson and Hardwick had followed, as I threw myself into the opportunity they had given me.
I looked around the grey, featureless platform. At six thirty in the morning, only the early bird commuters were present. Pale, pasty looking men in badly fitting suits looked resigned to another miserable day in mundane jobs. There was not one exciting or interesting looking person there. Suburbia doesn't really breed the people who make you sit up and take notice, I thought to myself. All the more reason to escape as quickly as possible.
I'd enjoyed Cambridge as it had been a huge relief to be around intelligent, informed people who had been passionate about academia. My mum had never understood a thirst for knowledge, and had tried to get me to lower my aspirations and take a 'nice shop job' at sixteen. The thought of returning home tonight unemployed and a failure, confirming all her warnings about 'getting ideas above my station', made the butterflies ten times worse.
I arrived at the offices at quarter past seven, pausing in the stunning wood panelled lobby of the ancient law firm, and wondered if it would be the last time I would walk through on my way to work. I ducked into the cloakroom to change into my heels and shed my coat.
"Good morning Elle," said Roger, the security man who was based in the lobby, as I waited for the lift up to my floor.
"Morning Roger, today's the day."
"I wish you the best of luck. I'm sure you'll be fine, the time you get here everyday must have shown them how conscientious you are."
"Thanks. Hope so." I smoothed the front of my neat pencil skirt, and gripped my handbag a little tighter.
Once I had reached my floor, I made my way straight to my desk to switch on my computer, check my emails, and just wait. All the cases I had been assigned to work on had been completed, and as my traineeship had been near its end, they hadn't given me any new ones. For the last week or so, I had just been assisting the other trainees with their cases, doing their drudge work, and helping out in the filing room. I had felt that the lack of new cases being put my way was a bad omen, and if they were keeping me, they wouldn't have worried about giving me fresh work.
Checking my emails, I saw one from Mr Lambert, my line manager. I opened it.
From: Adam Lambert
To: Elle Reynolds
Subject: Interview
28th March 2013
Dear Ms Reynolds,
Your interview today will be held at 11am in room 7 on the 4th floor. In attendance will be Ms Pearson, Mr Jones, and myself.
Kind Regards
Adam Lambert
I stared at the email for a minute or two. It wasn't giving anything away. I decided I need a cup of tea. In the small kitchenette area, I realised that my hands were shaking as I filled the kettle. I needed to get a grip. The last thing I wanted to do was show nerves or weakness when the rest of my workmates arrived. Cool, calm and collected was the image I wanted to project at work, not needy, insecure or scared, no matter how I felt inside.
As the other trainees filed in, I could see how rattled they were. It was interview time for all of us who began in 2011, and usually only a quarter of the intake would be offered permanent jobs. Scanning the faces, I tried to figure out who had screwed up, who had excelled, and who would be a tough call.
"Why are you looking so pensive?" Lucy demanded, standing in front of my desk, "we all know you'll be ok, miss perfect," she teased.
"I don't know about that, they could easily decide I'm not posh enough to fit in," I said, fully aware of my lack of private schooling and accompanying posh accent.
"Don't be daft, the fact that you have a perfect record and are a bloody genius will easily outweigh the problem of a glottal stop." She smiled to let me know she was teasing.
"Wha times yuh mee-ing?" I said, in full south London accent, taking the piss.
"11.30. You?"
"11. Good luck."
"You too. If its good news, I'll treat us both to lunch in Bennies." Lucy came from a wealthy background and didn't have to watch the pennies as I did. She sauntered off, seemingly unconcerned about her fate being decided upstairs.
At ten to eleven, I rinsed my hands in cold water to avoid a sweaty handshake, and made my way up to the floor above. The secretary directed me to take a seat just outside the meeting room to await my turn. The door swung open, and a fellow trainee, John Peterson, came out looking as white as a sheet. I caught his eye, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He had been one of the 'sure things' I had judged earlier that morning. My stomach sank into my boots.
"Miss Reynolds, you may go in now," said the secretary. I plastered on my best fake smile and entered the room. The three interviewers sat behind a long table, with a single chair placed in front of them. Mr Lambert smiled at me, and asked me to take a seat. I shook their hands, and sat down.
"Good morning Miss Reynolds, I'm sure you must be nervous, so I won't waste time on pleasantries," began Ms Pearson. My heart sank. "You have the highest work output rate of your year group, the best attendance and punctuality rate, and the best report from your superiors." My heart hammered, and I tried to stop myself blushing at her compliment. Ms Pearson was a managing partner, so remaining in control in front of her was extremely import
ant.
"So I'm delighted to be able to offer you a permanent position at Pearson and Hardwick. Now your report states that you would like to specialise in corporate law, is that correct?"
I pulled myself together quickly enough to answer her, "yes, that's correct."
"Good. We have an opening in our corporate department at Canary Wharf. You can begin there on Monday. For the rest of this week you will be on paid leave, as Mr Lambert has indicated that you have taken no holiday at all this year. The salary will be eighty thousand per year, plus the grade 3 benefit package. Do you have any questions?" Ms Pearson looked at me intently.
"No questions, and thank you Ms Pearson, I won't let you down," I said, barely able to take it all in.
"I'm sure you won't. Now, please head over to HR, where they have your new contract ready for you to sign, and sort out your package, then I suggest you have some rest until Monday."
I smiled widely at the panel, "thank you for this opportunity," I said before heading out.
Over at HR I signed my new contract, collected the details of my new workplace, and perused the list of benefits I could choose as part of my package. As I didn't have a car to be subsidised, I chose gym membership, private health care and an enhanced pension. The HR lady assured me that the gym at the Canary Wharf building was superb, and useful for showering and changing facilities if I needed them. On my way back to my floor, I bumped into Lucy, who was sporting a wide grin
"Great news Elle, I got family law, just as I wanted. What about you?"
"Good news for me too, I got corporate, so Canary Wharf here I come," I replied with an equally big smile.
"Wow! They are the most prestigious offices in the firm, you must have done really well. I'll come and visit you there. Now, shall we meet by your old cubicle as I have to see HR before we go to lunch?"
"Great, see you in a bit."
I went back to my cubicle with my shoulders back, and a lightness I had never felt before. Success felt fantastic, and for the first time ever I could escape my background.
Bennies wasa bistro type bar tucked away down one of the tiny passages that characterised the city. Lucy ordered a bottle of Moët while we waited for our overpriced sandwiches. We clinked glasses and gossiped about who got kicked out and who was kept on. It turned out that out of a hundred who began the training contract with us, only fifteen had been offered full contracts.
"So, what's your next plan? Are you moving nearer work?" Lucy asked.
"Sure am, I have the rest of the week off, so it's a good opportunity to look for a flat share or a studio. Mum's boyfriend wants to move in, and it's too small a flat to have all three of us there, so it's time to move out." I hugged myself with glee. Escape from the moaning about my getting up early, use of hot water and aversion to junk food.
Lucy broke my reverie, "my brothers friend is looking for a flatmate, he lives near Canada square. Would you like me to call him?"
"Oh yes please, that would be great." She pulled her phone out of her bag and prodded the screen.
"Hi James, it's Lucy Elliott. Have you still got that room available? Only one of my friends is looking for a flat near Canary Wharf." She listened to the other person, injecting a 'mmm' every now and then. "Yes it's a she, and she is a nice, hardworking, quiet, corporate lawyer. Yes I work with her.....yes.....no......ok I'll send her along this afternoon. Text me the address yeah." Lucy ended the call.
"Rooms still available then?" I asked.
"Yep. He's a bit fussy about who he shares with. James is a nice guy, and likes a quiet life. He works from home, so needs a flat mate who goes out to work, and isn't too noisy." Lucy's phone chirped as a text arrived with the address, which she forwarded to me.
A couple of other trainees from our year arrived to celebrate with us, nicking our champagne, much to my relief. I didn't want to view a flat half cut.
After lunch, I headed over to the docklands, taking the DLR. I had to double check the address, as the building looked way too swanky to be a flat share type of place. Pressing the buzzer, a voice came through, "who is it?"
"Elle Reynolds, Lucy sent me."
"I'll buzz you in. Take the lift to the fourteenth floor. My door is right in front of you." The buzzer sounded, and I pushed my way into a marble and glass lobby. I took in the silence, the deep carpet, and sense of restrained opulence. The lift was large, mirrored and silently sped straight up to floor fourteen, which I noticed, was the highest floor.
The door in front of the lift was open, and what could only be described as a bear was standing in the doorway. It was hard to gauge his age with all the facial hair, but I took a guess at early thirties. He was tall and broad, dressed in jeans and an old tshirt which showed off muscular, hairy arms. Through all the long, curly hair and copious beard, a pair of twinkly blue eyes reflected a smile. "You must be James? I'm Elle," I said, extending my hand out to him. He shook it warmly and invited me in.
"Did you find it alright?" he enquired, "and would you like a coffee?"
"Yes it was easy to get here, and yes I'd love a coffee if you're having one." He showed me through to what could only be described as a state of the art kitchen. James pulled two cups out of a cupboard and pulled two pods out of a drawer.
"What sort of coffee? I can do americano, espresso, latte or cappuccino."
"A latte would be lovely," I said, awed that there was a choice. If my mum remembered to buy fresh milk it was an event, and yet this hairy, bearded, bear-person had fresh coffee and fresh milk. I was impressed.
I found out that James was an app developer, and had built a few hit apps, which had enabled him to buy the apartment. He was working on a new app, and worked from home, so needed some peace during the day. I told him all about my promotion, and we toasted my success with fresh coffee, which made me giggle. He explained that Canada Square was quite literally round the corner, and my walk to work would be around five minutes.
"So why do you want a flat mate?" I asked.
He squirmed slightly, "I work from home, and sometimes barely speak to a living soul from one day to the next. I guess I get a bit lonely here on my own." He looked a bit sad.
"No girlfriend?" I wanted to make sure there was nobody to get jealous that a woman was moving in. The last thing I wanted was to put anyone's nose out of joint.
"Nope. My last girlfriend went to live in Australia, so don't worry, nobody to get arsey about a girl living here. I have to ask, any boyfriend?"
"No. I've been working like a demon for the last few years. No time for a man." Much to my mothers disgust, I thought.
"Well, I have no issue with you bringing friends back, but I'd rather not have a man move in here, so if you get serious with anyone, please bear that in mind."
"Will do. Can I see the room?"
"Sure, this way." James led me down a short corridor and opened a door. The room was enormous, with floor to ceiling windows covering one wall. There was just a large bed and a cabinet with a TV in the room. It looked a bit sparse. I walked over to the windows and stared at the view of the Thames.
"There's a dressing room through here, and an ensuite through that door," said James, pointing at two doors. Looking in the first one, I found a beautifully fitted out walk in wardrobe, with acres of hanging space, shoe racks and a dressing table. My paltry clothing collection would take up about a tenth of the space.
The ensuite was lovely. It had a large, deep bath, a separate shower, and a heated towel rail. It all looked brand new and pristine.
"How much is the rent?" I asked, suddenly nervous that I wouldn't be able to afford to live in this luxury.
"A thousand a month, but that includes all bills. Does that suit?" I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Fantastic, it's a deal." We shook hands. I arranged to pay the deposit and first months rent into James bank account via my laptop, and he gave me a key.
We bonded over another cup of coffee. I really warmed to James. He was just the right mixture of intellige
nce, geekiness and humour. We had thrashed out some basic house rules which, thankfully, didn't include hot water usage or rationing the gas. He also mentioned that he was an early riser, and hoped that it wouldn't be an issue for me to be quiet late at night. We both laughed when I pointed out that ten pm was staying up late for me.
I headed back to Welling with a spring in my step, eager to begin my new, London life. As predicted, my mum could barely contain her excitement at my moving out. She dug out the News Shopper and found an ad for a 'man with a van' who would be able to move all my belongings at short notice. He was able to do Thursday, so that left Wednesday to pack up, and get everything ready. I would still have a few days to unpack, settle in, and explore before starting work.
Mum was eager to help pack my belongings, and I actually didn't have much. The whole lot took us a morning to box and bag up. I had invested carefully in good work clothes, but apart from that, I didn't really buy a lot. Plus I had used the money I earned during my training contract to pay off my student loans, and build some savings, rather than blow it on clothes and makeup.
That afternoon, I decided to hop on a bus to Bluewater and treat myself to a haircut and some new work outfits ready for Monday.
I went into the swankiest salon there, and booked in for a trim. I kept my hair long, but the stylist added layers, and the whole effect was classy and grown up. Delighted with my new hair, I wandered round the boutiques trying on clothes until I found a fabulous navy dress and jacket combo which fitted like a dream, and projected just the image I was aiming for. I stocked up on tights and toiletries and bought a pair of navy heels to match my new dress. In a mad moment of optimism, I even bought a box of condoms before heading home.
