by Karen Osman
‘Are we going to pitch for their new alcohol business venture?’
Clive Mooring paused in his stride and looked at her. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘A good contact of mine mentioned it in passing,’ replied Angela vaguely.
‘Hmm. Not just a pretty face, are you? Yes, that’s the plan. And being as you know so much about it, you can prepare the contracts. I was planning to ask Raymond but he’s still in recovery mode after last night’s client dinner. Stupid idiot can’t handle his drink.’
Angela silently thanked fate. Raymond Montgomery had started at the firm the same day she had. Privileged, entitled, and used to getting by on his family’s wealth and name, Raymond was one of the most arrogant people she had ever met. Like had attracted like with Clive, though, and the senior partner had immediately taken him under his wing, which meant Raymond got to work on some of the best cases the firm had.
‘Absolutely, Mr Mooring. I’ll start right away.’
‘Good girl, be sure that you do. And no more breaks, eh? We don’t want to encourage the other associates now,’ he winked.
Walking away, Angela silently congratulated herself for taking the Sedgwick account away from Raymond. It was about time Clive saw her as more than just a pretty face. Forgetting all about the adoption ad, Angela hurried to her office in anticipation of a long night.
*
‘Well, well, well, missy… Raymond might have some serious competition!’ guffawed Mooring.
The rest of the partners laughed, and Angela forced herself to give a polite smile. She had just finished her presentation to management about how they could win the Sedgwick business. Not only had she prepared the contracts for the client’s new business venture, she had also put a complete strategy together to secure the remaining legal work that the conglomerate might require. If the Sedgwick board agreed, it would be a huge coup for the firm, and indeed for Angela herself. It had been a long week. Doing the contracts was reasonably straightforward but the strategy planning had taken a lot more time and effort, and she’d had to do it in addition to her already heavy workload. She’d also had to persuade Mr Mooring to let her present to management herself. She didn’t just want to impress Clive, she wanted to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off his face. As a result, she had done sixteen hours a day that week with very little downtime. But as she stood in front of the partners on a late Friday afternoon, quickly and easily answering their questions and objections, the thrill of success ran through her. The presentation had gone well. If they won Sedgwick, it would be the perfect opportunity to finalise her senior associate promotion, which had been on the table for a while now but never confirmed. This deal could provide the final momentum to make it official. Of course, Clive would execute and claim the fame, but this meeting was proof that she was leading the charge.
‘Good work, Angela, we will take a vote on this tonight,’ said Steve, the managing director. ‘That’s all for now.’
Dismissed, she left the room. Adrenalin had been coursing through her for the last few days and now she felt the pleasure of mental exhaustion, knowing she had given it her all.
Sitting back down at her desk, Angela checked her watch. It was almost seven. Feeling the satisfaction of a successful week, she tidied up her papers and made a quick call home to check on her parents before leaving the office. Her dad’s voice came cheerfully down the phone and Angela felt relieved to hear him sound like his normal self.
As she left the office, she decided to stop at Archie’s, a pub just a few doors down, which had become the local for everyone at Kings. She would have a drink with her colleagues before heading home. It was the last thing she felt like doing but she knew how it important it was to be seen socialising with the team.
Threading her way through the crowd, Angela approached the bar to order a drink.
‘So,’ a plummy voice behind her said, ‘I heard you managed to impress the powers that be.’
Not needing to turn round to know who it was, Angela kept her eye on the barman. ‘Yep, they’re probably voting on it now.’
‘Well, congratulations then…’ Raymond’s slurred words suggested he’d been at the pub for a while.
‘Thanks, but it’s not confirmed yet,’ she replied, trying to put him off any further conversation with her. She was tired and the last thing she wanted was a difficult time from Raymond, especially when he’d been drinking. He was bad enough when he was sober.
‘Oh, I’m sure it will be. Goody-two-shoes Angela always achieves what she sets out to do – even if it means stealing business from other associates.’
‘That’s not what I heard,’ she retorted. ‘I heard someone was too hungover to do the job.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you did – whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, enjoy it because it will be the first and last time you get the opportunity to work with my clients.’
‘I’ll see you later, Raymond,’ said Angela, finally getting her drink from the barman. ‘Don’t get too drunk now,’ she added, unable to resist a smirk.
She weaved her way through the crowd, joining some of her other colleagues to talk shop. Many of them had already heard about her successful meeting with the partners and she enjoyed being the centre of attention so much that she lost track of time. It was several drinks later when she decided to head home. Stepping into the darkness, Angela started walking in the direction of the Tube station, thinking about nothing but her bed.
10
Tuesday 19 January 1971
Dear Diary,
Today I’m 10 years old! At school, the class sang Happy Birthday, and everyone gave me the birthday bumps. At lunchtime, Nelly gave me a red marble. It’s beautiful. I’ll keep it with the yellow one she gave me under my pillow at night. Even Maureen let me play with her doll this afternoon although we had to stay inside, as it was so cold. I hope it snows. That would make this the best birthday ever! Fat Franny says I’m in double digits now and it’s a special age. I wanted to ask her what was special about it but the younger kids started crying and she had to go and sort them bloody littlies out.
A.
Saturday 27 February 1971
Dear Diary,
Today, me and Nelly had to go to the market with Nasty Nora. She says it’s because she needs help with the shopping bags but we know the real reason! It’s because she can’t work out the new money. Nasty Nora has to keep asking the shopkeepers, what’s that in old money? Sometimes even the shopkeepers struggle and they complain about having to buy and use new tills. Me and Nelly are really quick at working it out because Mr Wright has been drilling us for ages so we have to convert the cost for her from shillings and pence. We know she wants to keep our help a secret because she gave us an apple each to eat on the way home. Nelly and I decided to keep her secret although it was cold and wet and very drizzly on our way back home.
A.
Saturday 27 March 1971
Dear Diary,
Today we went to the shops with Nasty Nora and again she gave us an apple each. She’s getting better at working the new money out as she started to get the correct amounts now. I told Nelly that I’m going to tell her it’s wrong even if she gets it right otherwise she might not need us to go shopping with her any more and we won’t get the apple. Nelly said I shouldn’t do that because it’s wrong and she said she will tell on me if I do it. I didn’t speak to her for the rest of the day. Best friends aren’t supposed to tattle-tale.
A.
Monday 29 March 1971
Dear Diary,
I am still not speaking to Nelly and she’s not speaking to me.
A.
Tuesday 30 March 1971
Dear Diary,
Nelly finally talked to me. She said she wouldn’t tell on me but that she wouldn’t go to the shops with me either. I don’t want to go to the shops with Nasty Nora by myself so I said we could be friends again. Anyway, the last two days weren’t as much fun without Nelly.
A.
Friday 16 April 1971
Dear Diary,
When we got home from school today, there was a man with a bald head and a clipboard poking his nose in my cupboard under the stairs. Fat Franny said he was the Homes Inspector. When I asked what he was doing here, she said he was checking on how everything is run and then he would write a report for the government. Nasty Nora and Fat Franny were very polite to him and I even saw Nasty Nora smile, which has never happened before.
A.
Wednesday 26 May 1971
Dear Diary,
Nasty Nora dragged me out of bed this morning because I overslept. I was up whispering with Nelly until late and I just couldn’t get up. Even Nelly tried to wake me but I was so tired. Nasty Nora said if I wasn’t ready in two minutes I wouldn’t get any breakfast. I didn’t get up so Nasty Nora dragged me and shoved me down the stairs two at a time and threw my shoes after me even though I didn’t have my socks or my tie on. Luckily, Nelly had saved me a piece of bread, but I had to go the whole day at school with no socks and everyone called me a scrubber.
A.
Friday 4 June 1971
Dear Diary,
After all the chores, I played outside. I was happy because I won at jacks, but Maureen beat me at skipping. She thinks she’s so good at everything. She says that Mr Wright told her that she might get moved up to big school a year early because she’s good at remembering things. I don’t believe her because she’s a liar like when she lied about her mother coming back for her, telling everyone she was only here for a few weeks but she’s still here. I’m worried Peter will discover my secret hiding place for my diary and tell on me. If Fat Franny finds out, I will be in big trouble. Peter is always trying to annoy me. Maureen thinks it’s because he likes me but she doesn’t know that I know that he and Mary like each other. They’re planning to run away together. Fat Franny told me I still have a few years to go until I’m grown up and then me and Nelly can leave and I won’t need to see Maureen’s face any more.
A.
Tuesday 27 July 1971
Dear Diary,
We have been begging Fat Franny and Nasty Nora to take us to the seaside all summer and today it finally happened. We all took the train to Brighton and went to the beach. It’s the first time I saw the sea and it was freezing cold. Me and Nelly were screaming every time our toes touched it. The littlies had to stay with Nasty Nora and Fat Franny but us older ones were allowed to wander along the Pier. The boys went to the fair while we bought some popcorn. Peter won his shooting game and gave his prize to Mary. Afterwards, we all had a picnic on the beach and threw pebbles into the water. When we got on the train back to London we all fell asleep. It was one of the best days of my life.
A.
Wednesday 18 August 1971
Dear Diary,
Nelly has received a letter from her old foster parents. She read it out to me under the covers last night in bed. It says that they miss her very much. She asked me if I thought they would come back for her. I said no because no one our age gets adopted. She said she thought they might and I said but what about our plan to leave together? Then Fat Franny did the rounds and told us to be quiet.
A.
Monday 6 September 1971
Dear Diary,
Today was the first day of term and we are the oldest in the whole school! Me and Nelly sit next to each other and we pass notes to each other all the time although sometimes she shushes me when she’s trying to listen to the lesson. She’s such a swot! Our teacher is still Mr Wright but he’s better than Snapper as long as you stay out of his way. He said this is a very important year for everyone, especially those looking to attend grammar school. We have to work very hard if we want to pass the 11+.
A.
Tuesday 14 September 1971
Dear Diary,
Nelly has received four letters from her old foster parents so far. It’s very annoying because she always writes back immediately even if we’re in the middle of skipping. I asked her to wait until we’ve finished but she says it’s too important.
A.
Wednesday 22 September 1971
Dear Diary,
Today I was off school, as I wasn’t feeling very well. Fat Franny says I have a fever and should stay in bed. It was boring, though, so after everyone left for school I went downstairs. The postman had been, and I saw a letter for Nelly. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I will give it to her later when she gets home from school.
A.
Thursday 23 September 1971
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, I forgot to give the letter to Nelly and it was still in my pocket this morning. I was off school again and when Nelly came home, I wanted her to play jacks with me so I didn’t give her the letter again as I knew that she would leave the game to write back.
A.
Friday 24 September 1971
Dear Diary,
Fat Franny says I have been off school long enough. I told her my throat still hurts but she made me get dressed and leave with the others. I gave Nelly her letter on the way to school. I told her I had forgotten to give it to her. I thought she would be cross but she just looked at the letter and put it in her satchel.
A.
Tuesday 12 October 1971
Dear Diary,
When we got home after school today, the bald man was in the kitchen with his clipboard again. He was having a cup of tea with Fat Franny and Nasty Nora and sat at the table like he lived here. We all came into the kitchen and started asking questions but Fat Franny shooed us away to play outside.
A.
Saturday 6 November 1971
Dear Diary,
It’s really cold, especially at night, so we pushed all the beds together again to keep warm. Fat Franny brought us some extra blankets but there was only a small bowl of porridge for breakfast this morning. Nasty Nora grumbled about tough times ahead as she ladled it out while Fat Franny gave her one of her warning looks. After breakfast, we had inspection and then Fat Franny told us all to line up in the common room. Nasty Nora then announced that St Matthew’s would be taken over by someone else in January. No one said anything but Fat Franny had her hanky out. We were all then dismissed to do our Saturday morning chores, but in the afternoon everyone was talking about the news. Mary said she heard that Nasty Nora and Fat Franny got sacked because they didn’t pass the inspection. Martin said that was stupid and that he heard the government was taking over the running of the homes. When I asked Nelly she just shrugged and said it didn’t make any difference to her as she most likely wouldn’t be here anyway. She still believes that she’s going to be adopted and when I told her she wasn’t, she stormed off and told me I was just jealous because no one was writing to me.
A.
Friday 31 December 1971
Dear Diary,
Today was Fat Franny and Nasty Nora’s last day at the home. Fat Franny was blowing into her handkerchief all day until Nasty Nora told her to pull herself together. They let the older kids stay up till midnight and we sang songs until the clock struck 12 and then we sang Auld Lang Syne. We had all written thank you notes and knitted scarves for them and when we gave them, they both started crying and then everyone was crying. Fat Franny hugged me and even Nasty Nora patted me on the arm and told me I would be fine as long as I stayed out of trouble. It will be strange without them – they are all I’ve ever known. I wonder what the new people will be like.
A.
11
Angela
Angela discreetly glanced at her watch: it had just gone 8 p.m. She had been here only ten minutes, but it felt like an hour already. What the hell was she doing here? Tempted to leave but mindful of her promise to her dad, she looked around her. The church hall was old, its decay emphasised by the naked glaring bulbs hanging from the ceiling. A circle of chairs was placed in the middle of the room, not unlike how she imagined they’d be at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. It unnerved her – like her adoption was a problem. Several peo
ple were milling around the coffee and tea station, chatting quietly, and she felt reluctant to join them.
It had been several weeks since she had seen the advert in the newspaper regarding the adoption support group. Visiting her mum and dad most weekends, and with so much to do at work, she hadn’t been in touch with them sooner, but finding herself with a free ten minutes due to a client running late, she had made the phone call and had been invited to join the next meeting the following Tuesday evening. Luckily, it was just a twenty-minute walk from her office, and she planned to go back to work afterwards.
‘You must be Angela?’ The brisk voice came from a confident-looking woman who appeared to be in her late fifties. Her tie-dyed scarf and black gypsy skirt were at odds with her competent, efficient approach. ‘I’m Susan.’
‘Yes,’ replied Angela. ‘I called a few days ago.’
‘Welcome to Family First,’ said Susan, holding out her hand and giving Angela’s hand a firm shake. ‘I hope you find tonight’s session useful. Why don’t you help yourself to a tea or coffee and then take a seat?’ indicating the circle of chairs.
While Susan had explained on the phone that the meeting focused on support and counselling as opposed to just tracing birth parents, it was still a shock for Angela to see so many others in the same situation as herself. She had expected only a handful of people to turn up, but by the end of the session there were twenty of them in the room.
Susan started the meeting with introductions, welcoming the new members and then inviting people to share their stories and updates. As Angela listened, she realised not everyone was as comfortable with being adopted as she was. A young girl called Katie, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen years old, sat with a sleeping baby in her arms.
‘I’ve been in regular contact with my birth mother over the last few years,’ began Katie quietly. ‘We’ve sent cards and gifts for birthdays and Christmas, and speak on the phone occasionally, but since having my own daughter, my feelings are all over the place. One minute I’m fine and the next I feel sick at the thought of seeing my birth mother – like I’d just want to bash her head in, you know?’
