Glass Ceilings

by Alicia Hope

  She scowled and said sharply, ‘What the—’ then bit her lip. She took a breath and then said more calmly, ‘You are both to return to work immediately, and report to my office first thing tomorrow morning. Is that understood?’ Her commanding tone drew silent nods. With a final reproachful glare at them both, Verity turned on her heel and marched back to her car.

  Great, she thought angrily, just what I need right now, an AWOL, adulterous PA and a randy engineer.

  She launched herself into the car, slammed the door and accelerated away from the scene with a spray of gravel. If only she could have left the memory behind as easily.

  Distracted by the incident, she drove right past the transfer station and continued all the way to the bauxite mine. Once there, she made her way to the manager’s office, somewhere she’d always felt secure and welcome. It occurred to her that this unplanned visit could be beneficial.

  Luckily Alan was in, and although her arrival was unexpected, he appeared pleased to see her.

  ‘Verity, what a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘Hello Alan. Yes, sorry about this impromptu visit. A spur of the moment thing. I hope I’m not interrupting you in the middle of something?’

  ‘Nothing that can’t wait. And to what do we owe this honour?’

  ‘I wondered if we could call a special meeting with all available staff. Just a quick one, so I can thank them in person for their contributions during the VIP’s visit. What are the chances...?’

  Alan was already buzzing his secretary. He threw Verity a proud smile as he spoke into the intercom, ‘Lucy, can you come in please? Need you to arrange a meeting, pronto.’

  The day ended well, after all, despite the incident with Kerry. As soon as Verity got home, she poured herself a drink and took it into the garden, where she could sit and enjoy the setting sun’s last rays. Three Bells Jack followed her enthusiastically, jumping onto her lap and waving his tail under her nose as she sat drinking her wine. And later, while she busied herself in the kitchen preparing dinner, he wound his lithe tabby body around her legs, purring loudly. She opened a can of his favourite cat food and filled a clean bowl sporting the initials ‘TBJ’, surrounded by love hearts. Claire had laughed when Verity bought it, declaring it a wussy bowl for a boy cat, but Jack didn’t care as long as it was regularly filled.

  She called him over for his dinner, and then put on a Nora Jones CD and hummed along to it while char-grilling slivers of Haloumi cheese. She drizzled olive oil and lemon juice over them and made a garden salad accompaniment, and then carried her meal over to the table. She glanced over at Jack as she sat down. He was sitting beside his bowl, cleaning behind his ears as though he’d finished eating. But he’d hardly touched his food. Verity frowned. It was very unlike him to have an unfinished, not-licked-clean bowl every evening. Was he unwell? He certainly didn’t look it, quite the opposite in fact.

  ‘Aren’t you hungry tonight, mate?’

  He graced her with a feline grin before carrying on with his grooming.

  She shrugged. That’s cats for you.

  Later, curled on the lounge with Jack’s warm, purring body beside her, Verity stroked his velvety grey head and tried to read, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. The past few days’ pressures–Royce’s betrayal and insulting condescension, the conflict with Reardon, Kerry’s behaviour, the impending EC meeting–kept going around and around in her head. The company’s livelihood and that of all its stakeholders was like an ever-present entity, resting heavily on her shoulders and breathing down her neck.

  If only I had someone here to talk things over with, someone whose intelligence and strength I could draw on....

  But she shut down that thought as soon as it emerged.

  No point thinking like that. When I did have someone, he was no help in that regard anyway ... and now I’m on my own, and happier for it. Dwelling on what could’ve been never helps anyone.

  Eventually realising she’d read the same paragraph three times and still hadn’t taken it in, Verity gave up trying and prepared for bed. A soak in a perfume‑oiled bath helped her relax. She stepped out and dried herself with a fluffy bath sheet, before pulling on her soft cotton pyjamas. She padded over to the bed and stretched out on it, looking through the sheer curtains at the moonlight on the ocean. The curtains twitched as a sea breeze wafted through the bedroom, caressing her with gentle fingers of air as it passed. The bedclothes surrounding her smelled comfortingly of baby powder, soap, and sleep. Outside, the only sound was the ebb and flow of waves against the sand.

  All very soothing, and she sighed, thinking once more how fortunate she was to be living in such a lovely place. But her mind stayed stubbornly active for ages. After tossing and turning, going over and over the same points, she finally fell into a disturbed sleep, with the unwelcome image of Royce James’ face before her eyes.

  * * *

  In her office early the next morning, Verity looked up at the sound of a knock, and saw Kerry and Roger standing in the doorway. Kerry wore a defiant expression bordering on insolence, in contrast to the shame and embarrassment on the face of her partner-in-crime. Verity felt apprehension prickling in her stomach and took a calming breath before speaking.

  ‘Come in.’

  As they entered the room, she rose to meet them, saying crisply, ‘No need to sit down, this will only take a moment.’ She stood in front of them, staring hard at each in turn. ‘Neither of you is an idiot, although you seem inclined to prove otherwise with your recent behaviour. I assume you’re both aware that what you did yesterday is cause for disciplinary action?’

  She was met with sullen silence, so she continued, ‘I also assume you were both consenting parties to this, liaison?’ The emphasis on the last word made the other two shift uncomfortably.

  ‘Of course!’ Kerry exclaimed.

  Verity turned her gaze directly on the young engineer. ‘Roger?’

  Kerry sucked air through her teeth, making a hissing sound. ‘I was answering for us both.’

  ‘I can speak for myself,’ Roger blurted, before addressing Verity, ‘and yes, I was a ... consenting party.’ He cast a narrow-eyed glance at Kerry before returning his gaze to the floor.

  ‘And you both understand that behaviour like that on company premises and during company time will not be tolerated.’

  ‘Look, you don’t have to read us our rights.’ Kerry had been biting her tongue, but could remain silent no longer. ‘We know the company policies better than you do. And,’ she snarled, ‘how dare you stand in judgement over our private affairs?’

  Kerry had been thinking desperate thoughts ever since being discovered in a compromising situation by her boss, of all people. What action would Verity take, and how should she, Kerry, handle it? Act remorseful, or take the offensive? Would Jim find out about it and maybe her other ‘activities’ as well? Would Royce hear of it? No doubt Verity would make sure he did. Anger and hatred welled inside her and she chose to come out on the offensive.

  But if Kerry thought she could bluster her way out, Verity’s next words, spoken calmly but firmly, waylaid that approach. ‘I have no interest whatsoever in your private affairs, Kerry. What you do in your own time and away from site is entirely your business. However, what you do in work time and on RCL property is very much my business.’

  A point I should have made to Royce before he went overseas, and over my head. Verity frowned. Hey, where did that come from? I shouldn’t be thinking about Royce now.

  She gave herself a mental shake before continuing, ‘As staff members, you are expected to conduct yourselves in a professional manner at all times at work, or when representing the company. You,’ and she looked directly at Kerry, ‘of all people, should realise that by your choice of time and place for this ... ahem ... episode, you have made it my concern.’

  Verity regarded them both. She could read remorse in Roger’s body language, but Kerry’s held only belligerence, so she said pointedly, ‘You need to compre
hend the gravity of your situation, so I’ll be perfectly clear. Your behaviour is grounds for dismissal.’

  Roger’s head jerked up, his eyes wide with apprehension, while Kerry grew very still and sucked in her lips. They waited on tenterhooks for Verity’s next words.

  ‘But in this case I’ve decided against that particular course of action, for a number of reasons. However, a report on this incident will be noted in your personnel files.’

  Relief flooded into the young man’s face, and Verity could see traces of triumph under Kerry’s resentful scowl.

  Accentuating every word, she continued, ‘But if I hear any reports, no matter how casual, of this sort of behaviour happening on site during work hours again, I will take the necessary action. Consider this your first and final warning. Do I make myself clear?’

  At their nods, Verity dismissed them with, ‘Do not embarrass yourselves, or me, like this again. Now get back to work and think this over carefully. And Kerry, in future I want to know whenever you’re going to be away from your desk, unless on a scheduled break. I’ll speak to you again later.’

  Verity turned away, not for the first time regretting her decision to keep Kerry as her PA, instead of following her instinct and replacing her with Claire. But that would have looked like favouritism, so for the time being she had to maintain the status quo.

  Kerry barely glanced at Roger as she flounced out of Verity’s office and over to her desk. Once out of Verity’s hearing, Roger drew close and said sarcastically, ‘Thanks a lot, Kerry. What happened to “No-one will every find out, Roger”?’ When she remained silent, he grabbed her arm, growling, ‘I really needed this right now. Not.’

  ‘Look....’ Kerry gave a violent shrug to dislodge his hand and thrust her face towards him. ‘What makes you think I care about that, or you? Just do us both a favour and go back to your little cubicle in the “sheltered workshop”, you big wuss.’ Her lips curled over her teeth as she snarled, ‘As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another good-for-nothing, gutless engineer. So get out and stop wasting my time.’

  Roger stopped in his tracks to stare incredulously at her, as though asking himself what he ever saw in her. Drawing himself to his full height, he cast a final thunderous look her way, before turning and striding out without a backward glance.

  Kerry threw herself into her chair, dismissing him from her mind, and turned her thoughts to the scene in Verity’s office.

  How dare she talk to me like that? And in front of that imbecile! I’m her professional associate, I deserve better than that.

  She raked red-tipped fingers through her hair.

  That cow. Thinks she’s so high and mighty, untouchable. Well, we’ll see about that. Treat me like a piece of dirt, will she? Must be time to throw some more mud her way....

  At another knock on her door, Verity looked up and inhaled sharply. John Reardon stood in the doorway, but this time he appeared awkward, almost uncertain, which was completely out of character.

  ‘Come in, John.’ She eyed him guardedly, wondering what was coming.

  ‘Just wanted to give you this.’

  She took his proffered envelope and stared at him. ‘What is it?’

  ‘No need for explanations, it’s all in there.’ He looked ill at ease, shifting his weight from foot to foot as though anxious to leave.

  Certainly not the same bellowing brute from the other day, Verity thought with a curious frown.

  ‘John?’

  He finally made eye contact with her, and projected raw, resentful hostility. She shrank inwardly, but he merely said, ‘Like I say, it’s all in there. Just read it,’ and he turned and marched out.

  Verity frowned as she watched him leave. What was he up to? Was this another legal paper about his proposed suit against the company?

  Give me a break....

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Please, not more trouble,’ she whispered.

  There was only one way to find out what Reardon was up to now. She hesitated, staring at the offending item in her hand.

  When she finally tore open the envelope and extracted a single sheet, she unfolded it carefully, as though expecting a cloud of anthrax, or some other deadly poison, to waft from it.

  Taking a deep breath, she made herself read the smattering of sparse words. Her eyes grew wide and she raised her head once to clear it, before gazing at the page again. This time she focused carefully on each word.

  She’d read them correctly the first time.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ she breathed, ‘I just don’t believe it.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Royce glanced up the aisle of the Dehavilland Dash Eight to where Verity sat in animated conversation with Guy Wallace. Guy had arrived in Australia the afternoon before, along with the other US-based board members. After their flying visit to the refinery early that morning, which Verity had hosted, they’d joined the other delegates on the commercial airline flight from Bunbury to Perth.

  Meeting up with them at the airport, Royce had noticed a distinct buzz among the members that was more than pre-meeting jitters, and he quickly identified its source. Most of the international delegates were meeting RCL’s new CEO for the first time, and they looked eager to get to know her. Verity’s fifteen minutes of fame had arrived. Royce’s lips compressed into a tight line.

  Nothing more than she deserves, whispered his inner voice, which, to his discomfort, sounded a lot like Ella’s.

  Guy in particular seemed taken with Verity, and called dibs on the seat beside her for the flight to the island.

  I can’t blame him, Royce told himself grumpily, she’s very capable of getting under a man’s skin.

  He glanced at her again with grudging admiration. She looked composed and elegant sitting there beside Guy. Her long line silver-grey jacket fell smoothly over a matching skirt, and her classic court shoes were the same shade of plum as her satin blouse. Royce’s eyes took in the neatness of her posture, her shapely knees and well-formed calves in silken stockings. Her hair was tied at the nape of her neck, but as usual, a few soft strands had worked their way free. They framed her face, which she abruptly turned in his direction as though aware of his scrutiny.

  He held her gaze for a moment and then, with what he hoped was a nonchalant air, he focussed his attention on the newspaper in his lap. But he couldn’t take in the words, his thoughts kept returning to that uncomfortable scene when he’d first boarded the plane. Without meaning to, he’d been about to claim the seat beside Verity, until she looked up at him with a raised, inquisitive eyebrow and said quietly, ‘I think Guy wants to sit here.’

  A deep frown creased his forehead.

  Why did I have to choose that seat, and then stand there like a gormless fool instead of simply moving on to the next row. What’s wrong with me?

  He scowled.

  I must be suffering from a guilty conscience. Well, I’ve already redeemed myself for that, so it’s time to move on.

  He gave a small, satisfied nod and settled back to read the day’s Financial Review.

  The flight to Perth went quickly for Verity, thanks to Guy’s amiable company. Although they’d only just met in person, she quickly felt at ease with him, as though she’d known him all her life. He was an interesting and entertaining conversationalist, asking questions that Verity found inquisitive rather than goading or intrusive. The lively conversation left Verity with little opportunity to ponder the question uppermost in her mind.

  What had influenced John Reardon to do what he did?

  Once again Guy’s voice broke into her thoughts, ‘So ma’am, you’ve organised a pre-meetin’ dive excursion for tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, we’re going out on the “Indian Princess” early in the morning. Of course you’re most welcome to come along, Guy. It should be great diving, especially on the reefs around the island.’

  Guy simply smiled indulgently so Verity went on, ‘Did you know that Western Australia has some of the best dive sites in the world?
The water might be a bit chilly this time of year, but the visibility should be excellent, maybe as much as twenty metres in places. And there should be plenty of marine life around. If we’re lucky, we might see a manta ray or a pod of dolphins.’

  Guy watched the enthusiasm light up her face. It made her look young, sweet, and somehow vulnerable. ‘Sounds great lil’ lady, but not for this ole’ landlubber. I’ll get all my jollies sippin’ somethin’ long and cold, and hearin’ all about it when ya get back.’ He smiled at her with what looked like paternal affection. ‘Now you be careful, ya hear? I hear tell there’re some nasty creatures around, and not all of ’em in the ocean.’

  Although his smile lingered, the caution in Guy’s eyes wasn’t lost on Verity. She pondered on it while he turned to order a black coffee from the steward’s trolley. This gave her a chance to study his good-natured face in profile. She could sense an undeniable strength behind the benevolent features, along with a comforting sincerity. Maybe he was one board member she could rely on, possibly even trust....

  When the plane touched down in Perth, she felt butterflies quivering in her stomach again. With each leg of the journey she drew nearer the executive committee meeting, her first as CEO, and her next big test. She pushed her nerves aside and disembarked with the other delegates. Not long afterwards, they boarded the chartered Beechcraft King Air for the transfer to Loquacious Island. Verity had never visited the island before, and she wondered if it would live up to its name. But while the venue might be marvellous, she doubted the occasion would be one where people could truly ‘speak easy’.

  During the thirty minute flight in the small plane, Verity took every opportunity she could, whenever Guy took a breather between subjects, to look out the window at the Indian Ocean below. She enjoyed flying over the water at lower altitudes, it afforded a closer look at the differing hues of blue and shadowy limestone reefs, and occasional glimpses of large ocean inhabitants. As an amateur open water diver, she knew whales and sharks frequented the area. She’d only ever come across small reef sharks when diving herself, and those had been rare and infrequent encounters. But she never forgot the Southern Ocean’s proximity, with its cold waters a favourite hunting ground for the ferocious great white shark.