Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
WILL
Day Eighteen
Oh God, I’m definitely in trouble. Clive calling.
With a groan, I pick up the phone, and then I channel a tone as bright as the sun.
‘Hello, Will speaking.’
If I’m going to be fired, then I want to get it over and done with. There’s no point pretending that everything will be okay. After all, I did stop turning up to work.
‘Oh, Will. You have to ignore what people are about to say about me,’ Clive says, sounding desperate.
‘A rather sticky something has cropped up, and now I have found myself … well, in the shitter. People are not on my side, and I know you have been unwell, and you will no doubt have valued my support of you taking the time off you needed. So I would appreciate, if you would simply tell them how good I have been to you.’
‘Sorry, Clive, I don’t understand?’
Clive clears his throat. ‘Listen, you must tell Rebecca the truth. People are saying I am cruel, and it simply isn’t true.’
‘Who is saying that?’ I ask, recalling all the nights Clive told me to work overtime with no pay.
‘Oh, just the entire office,’ Clive moans.
‘Nasty little things, they are. That new member of staff, well, she was a plant. Sent in by HR to spy on me. Didn’t like it when I shouted at her for being a stupid woman.
This woke generation thing has gone a teeny bit too far.
No, yes, all will be okay. Just the small matter of suspension—’
‘Suspension?’ I gasp. This is a lot of information to be taking in right now.
My phone vibrates again, another call coming through. Glancing at it, I recognise the office number.
My need for gossip is too strong.
‘Sorry, Clive, someone is ringing me.’
‘Is it the office?’
‘It is.’
‘Oh, don’t answer,’ Clive begins, but I’ve already put him on hold.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, is that Will?’
‘Will it is.’
Why did I say it like that?
‘Hi, Will, this is Rebecca. Head of human resources.’
Shit.
‘Hi, Rebecca.’ My voice tightens. I’m going to lose my job and it’s all my fault. ‘How can I help?’
‘Well, there are two things,’ Rebecca says. ‘I have Nigel here, head of animation. He wanted to talk.’
My head reels.
This isn’t good. Getting fired.
Maybe my Excel spreadsheets were important.
‘Okay.’
‘Who do you want to speak to first?’
‘Oh, I don’t mind.’
‘Well, I’ll go first,’ Rebecca says. ‘I have a feeling Nigel will want to have a bit more of your time.’
Great. But at least I have some time to grovel and get together an excuse for why I’m off sick from work and definitely not in Athens.
‘We have suspended Clive,’ Rebecca says. I imagine him holding on to my other call, his heart beating. ‘We have had allegations from various members of the team that he has been bullying them. We want to know your experience with him.’
Clive? A bully? Well, I would have never thought that. Nothing to lose.
‘Clive would make me stay late without extra pay,’ I say.
‘He put me in a tiny office that is a storage cupboard and is not fit to qualify as a working environment. He wouldn’t get me the right office equipment, so my back is killing me.
Oh, and he’s ignored my requests for career promotion over the years, and only asks me to work in the office when everyone else works from home.
He’s also told me that my job is at risk, and—’
‘At risk?’
‘Yes, of redundancy.’
‘There are no redundancies planned.’
‘Oh, good. He must have forgot to tell me.’
‘No, Will. We haven’t planned any redundancies in over a year.’
I grip my phone. No redundancies? ‘Why did he tell me my job was at risk, then?’
Rebecca makes a little noise. What I’ve said must surprise her. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Power play, maybe?’ I guess.
‘Perhaps,’ Rebecca says. I could hear typing in the background. ‘Anything else?’
‘He belittles me and makes me feel like a spare part,’ I say. ‘If there’s anything else, I’ll let you know. But Clive is sly.’
‘Okay,’ Rebecca says, in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Well, thank you for sharing that.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘You’ve also been off sick?’
Here it is. I close my eyes. ‘That’s right.’
‘Is that because of working with Clive?’
An out. A clause. I’m sorry Clive, but I have to. ‘Yes. That’s right. I just … needed time.’
‘Thank you for letting me know. Now, Nigel here has something to say.’
Here we go.
I sip my coffee, looking into the coffee shop, hoping to find Sam; I could use his moral support right now. But there are so many people at the counter, waiting to be served. It’s impossible to spot him in the crowd.
‘Will? Hi. Nigel, here.’
‘Hi, Nigel.’
‘You haven’t been around for a while.’
‘No, that’s right. I’ve been sick, and … um…’
‘Oh, I don’t need to know about that,’ Nigel says. ‘Hope you get better soon. No, I’m calling about Willow. I found it in your desk drawer.’
My heart skips a beat. Has Willow died?
‘Is she okay?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Sorry?’
There’s a silence. Oh God, what’s happening?
‘I’ve found illustrations of a spider called Willow,’ Nigel clarifies. ‘Is it yours?’
Oh, those. How embarrassing. I thought I’d hidden my Willow adventures well, under printed Excel sheets that would never be read, let alone found.
‘Yes, they’re mine,’ I say. ‘How come you’re asking? How did you find them?’
I know I’m being shady, but after all, they were in my desk.
‘Oh, Clive said we had fired you,’ Nigel says, delivering the blow I knew was coming. ‘And I needed the desk. But you hadn’t been back to get your stuff.’
Clive fired me after all? My hands shook.
I thought of Willow on her web, and how I would never see her again.
She’s been my only work mate.
How sad is that?
‘He didn’t tell me that.’
‘That’s interesting. Note that down, Rachel. Failure to dismiss staff effectively,’ Nigel says. ‘Anyway, you’re telling me you drew these?’
‘I did.’
‘And did you write the story?’
‘That’s right.’
‘How would you feel about it being turned into a children’s programme?’
I almost spill my iced latte onto the cobbled street.
‘Sorry?’
‘I’ve shown this to the commissioning editor.
She was looking for a new programme, and she loves Charlotte’s Web.
She thinks this is similar, but unique enough to be something more.
An adventurous spider, changing the perception of spiders across the country.
She loved it,’ Nigel says. ‘And the drawings are fantastic. What was your inspiration?’
‘Oh, um, Willow the spider is inspired by a true spider that I knew.’
‘Interesting.’ Nigel clears his throat, clearly not finding that part interesting.
‘We can tell them you have a love for spiders. Clive may have fired you, but there’s an opening on my team.
Animator, but I’d like you to be a writer for this show, too.
We want to commission a six-part series.
We’ll set you up with a team. Free rein. Your work.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not,’ Nigel says. ‘Check your emails.’
I do, and in my emails there’s a contract for a programme from Nigel himself.
I want to jump and faint all at the same time.
Me? A writer, an animator, and having my show commissioned?
What witchcraft was this?
‘Nigel, is this a joke?’
‘No,’ Nigel says, laughing through the phone. ‘You’ve got talent, Will, and we’d be stupid to let you go.’
‘I will do it, but on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I get to work in Greece.’
‘Oh,’ Nigel says. ‘Sure, if that’s what you want. Most people ask for a lot of money.’
‘Oh, that too,’ I add.
‘I’m sure that can be arranged,’ Nigel says. ‘Welcome to the team, Will. I’m looking forward to working with you on Willow’s Adventures.’
He hangs up, leaving me sitting at a table with an iced latte, wishing I had champagne to celebrate. Had that really happened? Willow’s Adventures. It has a name and everything.
I almost forgot about Clive, still on hold.
‘Clive.’
‘Oh, Will, how did it go?’
‘Clive, I told her the truth.’
‘Oh, wonderful,’ Clive begins.
‘About how horrible you were to me, how my working conditions were poor, and how I deserved better,’ I say. ‘And that the reason I’ve been off is because I can’t work with you anymore. Sorry, Clive. Hope you get it sorted.’
‘How dare you!’
I’m sure he had more to say, but I don’t have the time. I’m an animator with my own show, don’t you know? I cut the call and block his number. Sly Clive is a thing of the past.
I open the contract and read it over. Maybe I’ll need a lawyer, or something. How much is that going to cost me? But nothing can dampen my mood. By chance, someone has discovered me. Here, right in front of me, is everything I’ve ever wanted, could only dream of happening.
My work is being turned into a TV show.
I can’t believe it.
I drink my iced coffee, feeling the sun on my skin as the world goes by, and think: yep, this is it.
This is the life.