Lucky Number

Chapter 1

Chapter One

I hold my breath as I wait for Robert to speak. Everything is riding on this. My whole career, my entire future. I drink in the vast modern office space with its tastefully decorated walls, plush carpet and luscious green plants that add a distinct feeling of health and vibrancy to the environment. My brain conjures up an image of me perched on one of the high stools in the ‘creativity hub’ brainstorming innovative growth strategies with like-minded colleagues. Yes, this is where I belong. I cross my fingers.

‘OK, Emma...’ Robert leans forward in his seat. ‘Thanks for taking the time to meet with me again. I know it was an intense selection process.’

‘It’s been a pleasure, Robert.’ I ensure I sound as confident and professional as possible. ‘A really... insightful experience.’

‘Glad to hear it. Now, as you know, it’s company policy to deliver all candidate outcomes face to face. We are true believers in giving everyone – even those who are unsuccessful in securing a position – useful feedback they can take away and work with. ’

Jeez, that doesn’t give much away . He’s really making me wait for this.

‘So, I’ve come to a decision. It took a lot of consideration and the competition was stiff. In fact, this might be one of the toughest hiring decisions I’ve made in some time…’

Just spit it out .

‘Emma...’ He’s looking at me intently, tapping his index fingers together as if he’s still not fully through that decision, and I almost can’t bear it. I want to jump over the desk, grab him by his impeccably stylish silk tie and beg him to put me out of my misery. ‘It is my absolute pleasure to say... welcome on board.’ Robert stands up and extends his hand.

In my shock, it takes me a moment to catch up. He’s not offering me the door. I’ve got the job . I shake his hand vigorously, trying to think of something clever to say, but all words have escaped me.

‘Are you pleased?’ He eyes me with a curious expression.

My arm is going numb from the repetitive motion, so I quickly let go. ‘I’m... delighted. Really delighted. And so grateful for this opportunity.’

‘Well, that’s a relief. Although, there is one thing I must mention.’

‘Of course. I’m always open to constructive feedback.’

He seems hesitant. ‘Well, this is a tad awkward, but before you start, you’ll need to do something about that smell. It will really put people off their work.’

‘I’m sorry… what smell?’ My smile freezes as a rich putrid stench engulfs my nasal passages…

I wake with a start, my head jolting up like a gazelle braced for danger. Oh my god, I fell asleep . I only meant to rest my head for a moment, but I actually properly nodded off at my desk and now I’m even more behind schedule than I was.

Clutching my face anxiously, I’m perplexed to discover that the right side feels bumpy, which can only mean one thing: I have a visible keyboard impression on my cheek. Shit. Clear evidence of my indiscretion, which must also look ridiculous.

While trying to get myself together and back to being productive, I suddenly remember the smell from my dream and take a tentative sniff at my underarms, but they’re fine. At least that wasn’t real. Though neither was the amazing job offer, sadly. The only thing I can smell is my boss, Karla. Or rather, her perfume. Overpowering, musky, suffocating – just like Karla herself, and a tell-tale sign that she’s nearby.

I grab my makeup compact to check my face but there’s no time. A rustling to my far right is followed by the click-clacking of Karla’s skyscraper stiletto heels, and she appears at her pristine, photograph-laden desk – most of them of her and her friends, pets, Z-list celebrities she’s met – just feet away from mine. With a tense jaw, I keep my eyes on my computer screen, hoping she doesn’t look across and clock my new temporary facial feature. Thankfully, she stalks off in the other direction.

After a quick rub at my cheek to encourage the blood flow, I start typing furiously, aware that I’m seriously running out of time. A few minutes later, Karla materialises at my left shoulder.

‘Have you not finished that yet? You’re leaving this ridiculously tight, Emma.’

‘Sorry...’ I type even faster. ‘Nearly...’

‘I’ll be back in half an hour,’ she barks. ‘Get it done pronto, or we’ll be having a conversation about your performance. Fifteen copies of the report plus appendices, and make sure they’re in colour. Nobody gets a medal for saving a few measly pence.’

I do a mock salute, quickly changed to a scratch of my head, as she turns and stares at me briefly, before flicking her sleek dark hair over her shoulders and stalking off again.

‘You know, Emma…’ she calls over her shoulder. ‘You’re going to have to be much more proactive if you want to get anywhere in this business.’

As Karla disappears from sight, my phone lights up on my desk, signalling a new message, but I don’t dare look in case she comes back. I know who it’s from anyway.

Sighing resignedly, I look round the dull, dingy office, surveying the yellowing walls and the ancient grey carpet tiling, taking its colour from the years of dirt and dust ground into it. My despondent gaze sweeps across the sea of untidy desks, crammed into the less than generous office space. There’s nothing here that resembles an inspiring work environment. Such a stark contrast to my dream.

I reluctantly drag my focus back to the Board paper and resume work on the final changes, then thirty minutes later, having done the printing and binding at lightning speed, I hand over the finished reports.

‘Down to the last second, once again ,’ Karla spits.

I say nothing.

‘Don’t forget you have another deadline for close of business on Tuesday.’ She can’t resist one last parting shot before she leaves for the meeting. ‘You might want to consider dragging yourself away from your precious social life this weekend if you’re as behind schedule with this next paper.’

This time she really hits a nerve. My fatigued eyes prick with tears as the injustice of the situation wrenches through my body. I can’t let her see me cry. I can’t let her know that the excessive workload she’s piling upon me, as well as the complete lack of any kind of mutually respectful working relationship, has me nearly at breaking point .

She takes off in the direction of the boardroom, leaving me dabbing at my eyes with my sleeve, and as I’m packing away my things, my phone lights up again, this time with an incoming call.

‘ Finally! ’ the voice at the other end hollers as soon as I answer, and so loudly that I have to hold the phone away to preserve my ear drum.

‘Hello to you too,’ I reply.

‘ Where the hell are you? ’

‘I’m on my way, don’t worry.’ I laugh, feeling my misery start to lift. This kind of greeting is not alien to me by any means.

‘Well, move your arse, will you?’

‘I’ll be there in five.’

Instead of confirming this is as an acceptable arrangement, the caller simply hangs up.

Relieved to be finally out of the office, I wander across Festival Square, where I pause briefly to call my newest FaceTime contact.

‘ Aunt Lottie! ’ I break into a delighted smile when an elderly face appears on the screen. ‘You managed to get set up. See, I told you it was easy.’

‘It was easy to follow your highly detailed instructions, Emma, yes.’ She returns my warmth.

I try not to wince on noticing that the background lighting, coupled with the close-up perspective of the video call makes Auntie Lottie’s increasing age and frailness ever more evident. Though she looks happy enough, her face is wan, etched with the strain of several decades of a life that wasn’t kind to her, her grey hair limp and lacking vitality.

‘Great. That’s us sorted then. We can see each other anytime, not just when I visit. ’

‘Indeed, we can. Thank you for this, dear girl. You really are an angel. Is that you finished for the week?’

‘Yup. And I’m about to meet the others.’

‘Well, you run along then,’ she chastises me. ‘You’ve got better things to be doing than talking to an old woman.’

‘ Aww, no way .’ I vigorously shake my head. ‘You’re top of my list. But you’re probably right that I should go. Amber’s been digitally harassing me for the last two hours. I’ll speak to you sometime in the next few days, and… I’m really sorry again that I can’t visit this weekend.’

‘My love, please stop fussing.’ Aunt Lottie purses her thin lips and frowns at me. ‘I’m just fine. I have George for company. And plenty of films and programmes to watch on the not TV thingymajig—’

‘You mean Now TV.’ I giggle.

‘That’s what I said, isn’t it?’ She’s oblivious to her error. ‘Go and enjoy yourself, and don’t give me a second thought.’

‘You’re the boss.’ I grin. ‘Over and out.’

Aunt Lottie’s chuckling face freezes on the screen as I end the call.

Putting my phone away, I tune into my surroundings: the excitable buzz of the Edinburgh after-work crowd and the growl of the traffic on Lothian Road. It’s a beautiful evening too. The spring air is fresh and warm, with the longer days making it feel earlier than it is. I take a deep breath and stand for a moment, allowing the stress of the last few hours to drain away. After what feels like an unbearably long week, I’m finally free. And I’m actually feeling slightly refreshed from my impromptu nap. Ah yes , this is going to be a brilliant weekend – and it starts now.