Chapter 16
The doorman was preoccupied, his attention diverted to the street, where he was deep in conversation with an old lady walking a small dog. Jake walked straight past him and opened the glass door.
‘Sir! Excuse me. Sir!’ The doorman had spotted him.
Jake kept walking.
‘Excuse me, sir. You can’t go in there.’ The doorman followed him inside.
The concierge jumped up from behind his desk in the foyer as Jake strode past, his voice joining in the protest. ‘Sir! Can I help you?’
At the lift door, Jake pressed the button. The concierge, who was standing right behind him, was rather unhelpfully telling him where he could find the nearest hotel. If Jake had wanted a hotel, he would have gone to one.
Jake turned around to face his detractors .
There was a moment’s stunned silence as the doorman and concierge recognised him.
Harry the doorman spoke first. ‘Mr Campbell-Ross! Good to see you.’
Jake knew what he was thinking: Mr Campbell-Ross – I’m surprised to see you. It was written all over his face.
‘Sorry,’ the concierge said, ‘I thought …’
Jake knew what he’d thought; a guy dressed in casual clothes carrying a travel bag had walked into the building, mistaking it for a hotel. It happened all the time.
‘If there’s anything you need – anything at all,’ the concierge said unnecessarily before resuming his post behind the desk.
Harry lingered; he obviously had something on his mind. ‘I was so sorry to hear—’
‘How’s the family, Harry?’ Jake cut him off mid-condolence.
‘Fine, fine.’ He nodded his head. ‘Linda’s having our fifth – any day now.’ A smile lit up his face.
Jake stared at him for a long moment. Anyone casually listening in on that piece of news might have wondered, quite rightly, how a doorman could afford to bring up five children in the capital. But all Ross employees, even if they stood and opened a door all day, were remunerated more than generously, most notably in the form of shares. Anyone fortunate enough to hold stock in the Ross Corporation could afford five kids.
‘Congratulations,’ Jake managed. He wished he hadn’t asked. He envied the lucky few whose lives appeared to flow with uninterrupted ease.
‘Our eldest has just started university. She’ll be the first person on either side of the family to get a degree,’ he said proudly. ‘We bought her a car as a going-away present.’
Jake was guessing those shares had come in handy.
‘I know what you’re thinking – there’s quite a gap between the first and the fifth.’
Really, Jake had been thinking no such thing. He was trying his best not to think about Harry’s lovely family.
‘Let’s just say the wife didn’t think she could have any more, so our little one is quite the surprise.’ Harry beamed.
The lift arrived, and not before time; Jake really didn’t want to hear any more details of Harry the doorman’s enviable family life.
The lift door opened, revealing a fresh-faced porter who looked him up and down in bewilderment. Jake would be the first to admit he did not look like the typical Ross employee. It wasn’t just his casual clothes, but the unkempt look that went with them; the shirt hanging out of his jeans, the two days’ worth of stubble. He imagined the bandaged hands weren’t exactly helping.
It was no wonder Harry had hung around outside the lift to make the introductions. Who would have believed they were looking at one of the board of directors of the Ross Corporation, even though said director had taken a permanent sabbatical. William Ross had not, and never would, accept Jake’s resignation – a fact that Jake had not shared when he’d applied for the Initial Teacher Training position, or at his interview. He did not want anyone thinking he was not committed to his new career and was keeping his options open to return to the Ross Corporation. He might be spending one night in the apartment, but that in no way meant he might come back. He wanted to keep his stay there quiet.
‘Derrick, you take Mr Campbell-Ross straight up to the forty-ninth floor,’ said Harry by way of introduction.
Derrick turned his attention on Harry with a look on his face that suggested he thought it was a practical joke. In the short time Derrick had been working for the company, he’d never been beyond the forty-eighth floor, and he had never set eyes on any one of the three heads of the corporation – until today.
‘Derrick, have you forgotten your training? Offer Mr Campbell-Ross some help with his bag,’ Harry prompted.
Derrick tentatively reached for the bag.
Jake did not object. He’d carried the bag three blocks, opting to park the car in a side-street close by and walk, in order to arrive as discreetly as possible and increase his chances of going unnoticed as he passed in and out of the building. If he had been wearing a suit, this might have worked, but that was beside the point, because he had reckoned without the new porter, who most certainly would not have taken him up to his floor without some kind of authority from the front desk.
Jake sighed as he followed the young man into the lift; he’d really thought this was going to be a lot less hassle than booking into a hotel. It was not. Derrick placed his bag on the floor just as five Ross employees returning from work joined them in the lift. None of them recognised Jake; they all took a very long look at him and his bag before facing the front. Jake imagined they were asking themselves the same silent question: what is this guy doing in this building, in this lift? And worse still, when each one got out at their floor, each one glanced back with the same silent question: why is this guy going up to a floor above us? Jake knew that it would baffle the hell out of them and provide an interesting topic of conversation, especially when they found out exactly who he was. Jake glanced at Derrick and realised he was going to be questioned in the morning.
On the way up, Jake became conscious of an overpowering feeling of rising panic caused by being stuck in the confined space. As the lift emptied, his panic subsided, but only a little; he knew he had to get out. He didn’t remember the lift taking this long to reach his floor.
‘Derrick,’ said Jake, deciding to attempt some conversation in the hope of relieving some of the anxiety as the lift tirelessly stopped at each empty floor. ‘Tell me about yourself.’
Now Derrick was the one looking panic-stricken. His eyes darted about the lift as though he were suddenly looking for an escape route; an escape from unexpectedly being put on the spot. Finally, resigned to answering the question, he looked Jake in the eye and in a self-assured tone said, ‘I’m seventeen years old and I’m very ambitious. I’m going to night school and intend …’
‘No,’ Jake said sternly. ‘I don’t want to hear about that.’
He registered the shock on Derrick’s face, but he didn’t want to listen to his resumé or some rehearsed spiel about his intended career path of rising through the ranks of the company. He didn’t want Derrick to try to impress him. He already knew, anyway. The very fact that Derrick was there said it all; he had beaten the competition at the tender age of seventeen years old to get a coveted job at the Ross Corporation. William always met prospective job applicants, no matter the position they were applying for, so Jake knew William had seen potential in Derrick.
Jake had no doubt that graduates, even postgraduates, would have applied for this position, because everyone knew that once you had your foot in the door – or in Derrick’s case, the lift – as long as you had the drive, the ambition, then the job could lead to the top. Everyone was in for a chance to progress. The sky really was the limit.
William often said, It doesn’t matter where you come from; all that matters is where you’re going. Jake wholeheartedly believed in that. He himself was a case in point. It didn’t matter that he’d been a corporate lawyer on the board of a multinational company; what mattered was that he’d found his calling teaching kids, some from quite deprived backgrounds, in an inner-city school. Like William, Jake wanted to nurture their potential, so that hopefully one day they might be in Derrick’s shoes, or wherever their dreams took them. Jake had found his dream job. He just wished that re-evaluating his life hadn’t come about because of what had happened to Eleanor.
Jake really didn’t want to dwell on that. He eyed Derrick and thought of William. He might have an old-fashioned approach to running a modern corporation, but William understood his employees. He knew that they wanted security, a job for life, because deep down, all anybody really wanted was to belong. William took great pride in looking after those who belonged to the Ross Corporation family. Furthermore, William believed a university degree alone was a poor relation to a work ethic and dedication to the company, regardless of the role.
It was obvious that Derrick had the determination to succeed, but behind that determination was a reason. Jake wanted to know the reason.
‘Derrick, tell me about your family.’
Derrick’s was an all-too-common story. His father had bailed when he was twelve years old, leaving his mother to raise three children alone. Childcare costs had made a return to work prohibitive, but she’d had little alternative – they had needed the money. Besides, Derrick’s mother had told him she wasn’t going to set a bad example to her sons and live on state handouts. So, she had returned to nursing and had left Derrick – the eldest – to look after his two younger siblings – to feed, bathe and put them to bed every night after school, at weekends and on school holidays. For Derrick, adult responsibilities had come early. But this had turned out to have an unforeseen positive side-effect that told a less familiar story – it had kept him off the streets. It had kept him away from the gangs, and it may well have saved his life.
His best friend and just recently his cousin had not been so fortunate. Whether it was a knife or a gun, Derrick wouldn’t elaborate; the hurt was still new, still raw. And as always, the gangs had their eyes on new recruits – even those as young as his twelve-year-old brother, Joseph. And therein Jake found the reason behind Derrick’s motivation to succeed. He wanted to get his family out of the estate; he wanted to get his brothers away from the gangs. He knew that time was not on Joseph’s side, but Matthew, the youngest, was just seven years old. There was still time. But he had to work hard, and he had to work fast.
The lift stopped on the forty-ninth floor. Both passengers stood in a moment’s subdued silence.
Jake picked up his bag as the lift door opened.
‘Mr Campbell-Ross,’ Derrick turned to face him with a look of innocent sincerity. ‘I want to thank you for giving me this opportunity.’
Jake stared at this kid, who came from one of the most deprived estates in East London and was starting out with the sort of disadvantages Jake could only imagine – a kid who might one day not make it into work because of a stray bullet, or a random, unprovoked knife attack, or just because he looked at someone the wrong way, or someone held a grudge because he wouldn’t join a gang and worked for a living instead. Despite all that, somebody in the company had recognised his potential, and had given him the break he deserved.
‘You know what,’ said Jake. ‘I want to shake your hand.’ He felt like the boy deserved a medal.
Derrick looked positively stunned. He tentatively reached for Jake’s bandaged hand.
Jake gave him a strong handshake, ignoring his protesting hand. ‘What are you studying at night school?’
Derrick didn’t hesitate. ‘Law,’ he said. ‘I want to be a corporate lawyer.’
‘That’s a good choice, Derrick. The board likes its members to come from a legal background.’
He could tell this was news to Derrick – very good news. The boy was obviously aiming for the top. And Jake wished him every success; he deserved it. If he’d known how many graduates had applied for the position he held, he would not be thanking Jake but congratulating himself, as he should be.
‘Derrick, there’s something I want you to do for me,’ said Jake before vacating the lift. Jake wanted to see Derrick first thing in the morning. He expected Derrick on the forty-ninth floor at nine o’clock prompt. ‘I’ve got something I want to give you before I leave.’
The lift door closed on a bemused seventeen-year-old who would have to wait a full twelve hours to find out what Mr Campbell-Ross, who sat on the board of directors, had to give to a porter.