by Kris Webb
Sarah gurgled happily the whole way into town. In an inspired move the previous week I had hung one of her toys from the top of her capsule and it still hadn’t lost its fascination. Debbie was convinced that the ‘goldfish theory’, which maintains that goldfish have such short memories that every trip around the bowl is a completely new experience, applied equally to Sarah. While hoping that my daughter’s brain power was significantly larger than that of a small fish, I had to admit there seemed at least some truth to what she said.
There was always a fair degree of luck involved in just where I ended up when I drove into the centre of Sydney. Even after five years, the maze of one-way streets still confounded me. Today I not only ended up exactly where I wanted, but a free parking space (the existence of which in Sydney was significant enough to be a topic of conversation at dinner parties) appeared in front of me. As I reversed into the spot on my first attempt, I made a mental note to buy a lottery ticket and make the most of this purple patch.
Sarah and I set off down the street to do the shopping I was trying to convince myself was my main reason for coming to town. After drifting through a few shops and making a couple of totally unnecessary purchases, I headed for Handley Smith.
The receptionist looked at me without any sign of recognition.
‘Sophie Anderson here to see David Fletcher,’ I said in response to her raised eyebrows and questioning look. ‘I don’t have an appointment,’ I continued as she looked at the diary in front of her. ‘But if you could just tell him I’m here, I think he’ll see me.’
‘He has someone with him at the moment, Ms Anderson,’ she replied. ‘I’ll let him know you’re here just as soon as he’s free.’
With a sudden flash I remembered that people in the non-baby universe actually worked and for the first time I wondered whether it was a good idea to drop in unannounced. As I paused, considering whether I should manufacture an excuse and leave, the door to David’s office snapped open and a tall, thin girl with long fire-red curls marched out and down the corridor.
Framed in his office doorway, watching her go, was David. Obviously feeling eyes on him, he turned towards the receptionist and gave a visible start as he registered my presence.
‘Sophie . . . Hello,’ he said lamely, managing a watery smile. ‘How lovely to see you; come on in.’
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the girl must have been Angela, and as I pushed Sarah’s pram into David’s office, I cursed the whim that had propelled me into the city to thank him in person. Once inside I paused awkwardly, uncertain how I should greet him. Shaking hands was clearly inappropriate given the events of Hong Kong, but bridging the acres of beige carpet which separated us and attempting a kiss didn’t seem right either.
Taking the cowardly option, I bent over Sarah’s pram to totally unnecessarily rearrange her toys. When I looked up, David, who was no doubt as grateful for the reprieve as I, had settled himself behind his desk. Following his lead, I perched awkwardly on the edge of the chair opposite him.
We both started speaking at once, stopped, then started again.
‘You go,’ David smiled.
‘I was just in town doing some shopping,’ I said with crossed fingers, ‘and thought I’d drop in to say thank you for the flowers.’
‘I’m glad you liked them,’ he said, sounding anything but glad and looking at the desk in front of him rather than meet my eyes.
He’s changed his mind, I thought glumly, concluding that the reality of having a relationship with someone with a baby had sunk in and that he was trying to work out how to get out of the situation he now found himself in.
Right on cue Sarah started crying. Not now, I thought fiercely. Our telepathic thought channels obviously weren’t working, though, and she increased her volume sharply.
Picking Sarah up, I held her over my shoulder, rocking her from side to side. ‘Look, I should go. I just dropped in to say thanks but I don’t want to hold you up.’
‘No, it’s fine, Sophie. Actually I need,’ David paused to let a particularly loud cry of Sarah’s subside, ‘to talk to you.’
‘Okay,’ I said, jiggling Sarah vigorously. She seemed to be quietening so I sat down, which caused an immediate resumption of her full-throttle crying.
Bouncing up again I said with forced cheerfulness, ‘I don’t think this is going to get much better. Why don’t you just go ahead?’
‘Sorry?’ he asked with his hand behind his ear.
‘Go ahead,’ I repeated louder.
‘Well . . .’ he yelled. ‘There’s a problem with the order for your books.’
I froze midrock. ‘Pardon?’ I asked, hoping that I’d misheard.
‘We’ve got a problem with the order for your books,’ David repeated. ‘I’ve just had notice that Handley Smith is under huge pressure to drive the share price back up and so the top management have put a total freeze on all hiring.’ He paused and took a breath. ‘And all new purchases have been stopped too. That means I can’t add any new suppliers until the freeze comes off, Sophie, and I have no idea how long that could take.’
The enormity of what he had said hit me. ‘But we were so close to a deal,’ I stammered.
‘I know,’ David replied, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere but here. ‘But we hadn’t formalised it, and now this directive has come down, I can’t put the purchase through. I still think the books are a great product and they’ll sell, but there’s no way around it. I’m really sorry, Sophie.’
I slumped into the chair. Sarah was mercifully silent. My visions of a business empire slowly collapsed as I realised what had happened.
‘So that’s it?’ I asked David. ‘There’s nothing you can do to convince your management that they should make an exception?”
David shook his head. ‘There are no exceptions, Sophie. I’ve only seen this once before, about three years ago. It’s an across-the-board freeze that applies to everyone. We were about a day away from hiring another buyer, but the freeze has put an end to that too.’
Sarah had lost interest in the situation and started to cry again. I was about to speak but paused as I saw her take a deep breath in preparation for another yell. Both David and I watched her, wincing involuntarily as the silence stretched and was then abruptly shattered as she let her breath out in an ear-splitting wail.
‘Look, David, I can’t even think straight with this noise,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.’
David watched silently as I dumped Sarah unceremoniously in her pram and pushed her to the door. Head down, I muttered my goodbyes and went straight to the lifts. After what seemed to be an agonisingly long time, one arrived. Once we were safely inside and the doors had shut, I breathed easier and smoothed Sarah’s cheek, which was red from crying.
The crowds in the mall, which had parted smoothly for us earlier, now forced us to move at a snail’s pace. When I was about fifty metres from the car I realised that the reason there had been no one parked there was because it was a no-standing zone. With a sigh, I spotted a parking inspector standing beside my car. As I watched, he completed the ticket, tore it off and carefully lifted the windscreen wiper to slip it underneath.
Having been through this a number of times, I knew that rule one of the parking inspector guidebook forbade them cancelling a ticket once they’d started writing it out. Several humiliating experiences had taught me that there was no point in throwing myself on their mercy. I briefly considered using Sarah to assist my case, but quickly concluded that wouldn’t help, given my firm belief that parking inspectors are grown-up versions of boys who play golf with cane toads.
Hanging back until the inspector was gone, I pulled the ticket free of the wipers and glared at it before stuffing it into my handbag.
Hardly conscious of where I was driving, I found myself heading to Debbie’s flat. Pulling up outside, I took Sarah out of her capsule and puffed up the four flights of stairs to Debbie’s door (another reason a move be
fore Sarah’s arrival had been unavoidable).
Debbie had wanted me to keep my key when I moved out but I had insisted on giving it back – somehow, coming across Debbie with a male friend was one thing when we were flatmates but quite another when we weren’t (and I was likely to be bearing my innocent young daughter).
Hearing male laughter through the door I was doubly glad I had made that decision. But when Debbie opened up, It was Andrew and not one of her bevy of men I saw on the sofa behind her.
‘Hello, Andrew,’ I said in surprise. ‘What are you . . ?’ I began, before I noticed that Debbie was wearing running gear.
‘Unbelievable!’ I exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve managed to get Debbie to do some exercise?’
‘I’ve decided to get fit,’ Debbie announced.
‘You’re kidding,’ I said incredulously. ‘The only time I’ve even seen you walk fast is in the Boxing Day sales.’
‘Yes, well, things are different now,’ she said. ‘Now that I’m not devoting all of my energy to scouring the earth for self-cleaning soap dishes, it’s amazing what I’ve got time for.’
Upon reflection, I realised that it had been a while since Andrew had collected my weekly exercise summary sheets, which he had given me when Sarah was born. His finding another person to focus his energies on could only be a good thing for me.
Remembering why I was there, I suddenly stopped smiling. ‘Deb, we’ve got a big problem with the Handley Smith order.’
‘I’ll leave you both to it.’ Andrew leapt off the sofa. ‘I’ve got a client in half an hour.’
Debbie had heard the serious tone in my voice and didn’t take her eyes from my face as Andrew left. ‘What’s the problem, Sophie?’ she asked quietly.
‘There’s no order from Handley Smith,’ I stated flatly. ‘Apparently there’s a company-wide freeze on all expenditures, including new purchases. Something to do with pushing the share price up.’
‘Shit!’ Debbie exclaimed with great force. ‘And we were so close.
‘I’ve come across this before,’ she continued as she paced across the room. ‘Some big companies’ top management get bonuses based on share price increases and profits. If they can’t increase revenue, the only other way they can increase profits is to reduce expenses. It’s incredibly short-sighted, but it keeps happening.’
I sat down on the couch Andrew had just vacated. Debbie sat down beside me and reached over to take Sarah, who smiled up at her endearingly. Sarah had recently taken to dribbling in large quantities. A middle-aged lady, a harassed-looking woman trailing two kids and, bizarrely, a thirtyish man with dreadlocks and a ring through his lip, had each stopped me on the street to tell me that the dribbling meant Sarah was teething. As a breastfeeding mother, the thought sent shivers up my spine, but I had explained clearly to Sarah that one bite and she was on the bottle, and I hoped we had an understanding.
Another dribble was threatening to drip off Sarah’s chin and I watched as Debbie absently wiped it on her purple Nike running singlet. However, even the sight of the change Sarah had wrought on Debbie couldn’t take my mind off the depressing development in our business venture.
‘The good news is that we haven’t placed the order yet,’ I said in an effort to be positive. ‘At least we don’t have a container-load of baby books arriving tomorrow.’
‘Sophie . . .’ Debbie began awkwardly, staring at the top of Sarah’s head.
‘What?’ I asked, my voice rising with worry. ‘What don’t I know?’
‘Well . . .’ Debbie continued, lifting her head to look at me. ‘I spoke to Kim the day you arrived home. He said that they were backed up with orders and that if they didn’t put ours through straightaway then it would be five weeks before they could start, which would have been too late.’
She paused and took a deep breath before saying what I’d already guessed. ‘So I told them to go ahead.’
Closing my eyes, I leant forward and put my head on my knees.
‘Sophie, I’m so sorry,’ Debbie continued. ‘I know I should have told you but I was so sure it was a done deal and I knew you’d just worry about it.’
I only vaguely heard Debbie’s words through the roar of blood in my ears. My share of the amount we owed for the books was more than the savings I had left. We needed to pay for the books before they left Vietnam and there was no way a bank would lend money to a single mother with no assets who wasn’t currently working. So I’d decided the only option was to cover my share using my credit card. Although the concept of paying horrendous interest on a large amount of money terrified me, I’d decided that as it would only be for the couple of weeks until we delivered the books to Handley Smith and received payment, it would be all right.
But this changed everything.
‘What on earth are we going to do?’ I asked, my voice trembling.
‘Sophie, please look at me,’ Debbie implored. ‘I know how much that money means to you. It was my decision to place the order, I’ll pay for it all. Committing ourselves without having Handley Smith tied up was a bad business decision, but the other option was losing the order and I really thought we weren’t taking too much of a risk. I guess I was wrong,’ she finished glumly.
After a few more seconds I looked up. ‘No, that’s not fair. If I’m honest, I would have made the same decision you did and I understand why you didn’t tell me. You’ve worked as hard for your money as I have and this is going to wipe you out too. I’ll cover my share, I’ve just got to figure out how.
‘Maybe we can reduce the order if they haven’t started producing all of them yet,’ I said with sudden inspiration.
Debbie shook her head. ‘Kim explained that they’d be producing all the books at the same time. Each one has heaps of different layers of lacquer and it’s putting all those layers on that takes the time.’
‘So we’re stuck with four thousand baby books and no one to sell them to. God, what a mess,’ I said morosely.
‘Look, let’s not give up yet,’ Debbie said briskly. ‘You know, this all happened so quickly and easily that we haven’t looked at the business economics as closely as we should have. The shipment is due to leave Vietnam in ten days, so we’ve got until then to come up with the cash for the books themselves and then another two weeks before they arrive here. As I see it we have two options. We either try to offload the covers to someone in Australia and hope to cover our costs, or we spend the money to get the pages printed and the books packaged and try to sell them ourselves.’
The thought of spending more money I didn’t have on printing and packaging sounded like madness and my feelings must have shown on my face, as Debbie went on quickly, ‘But we don’t have to decide yet. Let’s at least investigate other buyers before we go making any drastic decisions.’
‘All right,’ I said slowly, figuring we had nothing more to lose.
‘I’m sure that one of the other big stores will jump at the chance to take the books,’ Debbie said positively, and it was only because I knew her so well that I could hear the unfamiliar ring of uncertainty in her voice.
I tried not to think about my savings being turned into a pile of useless books, and forced myself to concentrate as Debbie outlined what we should each do over the next couple of days.
TWENTY-TWO
That evening I was doing some sums to figure out just how long I could carry the interest cost on my credit card, when I heard a knock and opened the front door to see David standing there. I cursed whatever god it was who ensured that when I wore decent clothes at home absolutely no one dropped in, but turned my house into a veritable Melrose Place as soon as I donned leggings that had lost their elastic in all the critical places.
David had his suit jacket over his arm, had undone the top couple of buttons on his shirt and loosened the knot on his tie, which was pulled to one side. He’d obviously been running his hand through his hair and it stood up in little peaks on one side. Seeing him standing there made me realise that I�
�d hardly thought about my feelings for him since he had given me his news. Well, not fretting about my love life was one benefit of suddenly being up to my eyes in debt, I decided.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘That was really awful in my office today. Do you mind if I come in to talk?’
‘Of course not,’ I said, standing aside to let him through.
David stood in the middle of the room looking around. ‘This place is great,’ he said. ‘It looks like a real home.’
‘I’m guessing that baby rugs and toys don’t really feature in the décor at your place,’ I joked, trying to ease the tense atmosphere.
‘Sophie, this is really difficult,’ David began nervously. ‘I enjoyed your company when we were in Hong Kong, which is why I sent you the flowers. I’m so embarrassed about what’s happened. We were really close to tying things up and I feel incredibly bad about pulling the rug out from under your feet.’
‘Don’t worry about it, David,’ I said. ‘It’s not your fault.’
‘At least you haven’t placed your order yet,’ David said.
I wondered whether or not I should tell him the truth, but decided I didn’t have much choice. ‘Actually, our order is already being manufactured. We’re just going to have to find another buyer.’
David looked aghast and started to speak again.
‘David, stop,’ I interrupted, cutting him off. ‘Would you feel this bad if we hadn’t slept together?’
He considered that briefly, and then shook his head.
‘Exactly,’ I continued. ‘I’ve felt uncomfortable about this not being a totally businesslike relationship. The order being cancelled is a nightmare, but it isn’t your fault and Debbie and I will deal with it.’
I had gone this far, I figured I might as well keep going. ‘I enjoyed your company when we were away too – let’s just pretend that we met some other way and see what happens.’
