Chapter 2
The following week I do the thing even better, the living normally without raising red flags for anyone thing.
I brush my hair till it shines, stick in hoop earrings, and return to wearing too-short skirts, too-patterned tops and too-bright lipsticks.
All things that do not match my mood but are the uniform of who I was before.
I eat properly, stay hydrated, and respond to everyone’s texts.
At home I teach my brother how to use the temperamental washing machine and don’t burst into tears when he chucks out one of the house plants because it’s infested with fungus gnats.
At work I speak up in meetings, do bubble tea runs and make all the right noises while listening to Nicole’s stories, which encompass the entirety of the human experience from the mining of tantalum to her suspicions that her twelve-year-old has started having wet dreams.
On Thursday when I’m asked to join everyone for lunch, I agree.
‘So glad you’re here,’ Danni from PR says as we stand in the line for bao buns.
Danni has an Instagram account with over 19,000 followers yet she only ever posts about her flawless skin and Barbie hair. She shadows me through lunch, giving soft smiles and asking if I’m well. As we return to the office, she confesses, ‘It happened to me too. When I was twenty-four.’
I blink back at her.
‘I’m better now’ she stands too close and lowers her voice – ‘though I don’t take my mental well-being for granted. Gratitude helps. Taking a breath and focusing on three things I’m grateful for. You should try it.’
Afterwards, as I stand outside my boss’s office waiting for my overdue back-to-work interview, I try to think of three things I’m grateful for.
Hoisin duck bao buns. Double-fried chips. Those expensive Bonne Maman yogurts my brother buys.
Am I hungry?
‘Come in,’ Jimmy shouts. He flashes his expensive smile as I sit down. ‘Zoe Delgado, how are you?’
‘Good,’ I answer, slightly troubled by hearing my full name like this.
Jimmy’s office is huge. It has full-length windows, which are never opened, an aerial hoop, because Pelotons are too obvious, and its own toilet, which the sales team make a point of defecating in whenever Jimmy’s away on business.
Maybe that’s the reason for the plug-in air fresheners which pump out heavy doses of wistful wisteria.
I know that’s the name as I focused on the label the last time I was here, the day before I got signed off work.
He pops open a tub of edamame bean pods. ‘Would you like one? They’re sensational.’
Edamame beans taste like wet wax, yet I reach across the desk to pick one out. ‘Thanks.’
‘I didn’t literally mean take one,’ Jimmy says. ‘You can take four if you like.’
I count three more into my hand.
‘They’re full of vitamin K,’ he says, ‘which I’m sure you’re aware is good for healing.’
That I didn’t know but I will add it to the list along with talking, nature, bubble baths, stroking small furry animals and the hundred other unsolicited recommendations for healing I’ve recently received.
‘You’ve been doing good work,’ he says.
‘Thanks.’
‘Your Welcome to Spain content really had legs. Of course, everyone loves Spain. Sun, sea, tapas, Rafael Nadal.’ Jimmy mimes what I think is maracas and adds, ‘Flamenco, bullfighting.’
‘I hope I got across that there’s a little more to Spain than that.’
‘Course you did. I didn’t read it, but I’m sure it’s great.’ Jimmy tips his head at me. ‘Dear Zoe,’ he says as if on the verge of breaking into a ballad.
Please, not another pep talk, not another well done and aren’t you resilient sort of thing.
‘Jimmy, you always have the nicest suits,’ I say quickly. ‘I don’t know why more men don’t wear maroon. You need the complexion for it, I guess. Like you have.’
He flinches.
‘Sorry,’ I say, ‘I forget we’re not allowed to offer compliments on physical appearance. But—’
‘The “Safety for everybody and every body” policy is to keep us all protected. Please respect it. Moving on, now that you’re better,’ he says softly, ‘I’d like you to come up with a concept for a new podcast series.’
‘We already have a Chat Around the World podcast. It’s great. I love when they do these deep-dive episodes on morphology and—’
‘You listen to that?’ he asks in surprise.
‘You’re part of a very small audience. No, we need something else, something hooky and fun.
An original podcast we can post all over the internet.
Possibly food-related, à la Hot Ones, Chicken Shop Date or Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.
Social media is all about being cutting edge, so let’s slice it up. ’
‘Cutting edge? Jimmy, those have been around for years. Though I don’t think I’ve heard of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Is it a TikTok thing?’
‘Don’t make me feel like an old man,’ he chuckles. ‘It was a TV show. Guy Fieri. Fabulous fun. Anyway, yes, Chat’s a tad late to the podcast party, but you can do it. You’re a whizz at generating spunky ideas.’
While he’s using the word spunky in the right context, I can’t help but cringe.
‘Pitch me something next month.’
‘Next month? Sure. Though, you might not be aware, but I’m also still doing quite a bit of translation work. Could we possibly get in a freelancer to take over some of it?’
‘I don’t think we need to do that. The translators are so expensive. I can’t wait for AI to wipe them out.’ He flings an empty pod in the bin with a laugh.
‘I’m also creating all the content for the Chat mascots,’ I explain. ‘By the way, do you really think we need ten mascots? It seems excessive.’
‘It’ll be great,’ he says as he taps away on his keyboard. ‘You’ll be great. I’m so happy I could support you in your time of need. Please know I’m always here.’
I stare down at his desk plaque with the job title Chief of Ideas and, under it, his language. Everyone here is encouraged to use the Chat app, and in turn show off about what languages we know or are learning. It’s wild that Jimmy’s simply says, World English.
‘Thanks.’ As I stand to leave, he makes a noise to show me he’s not finished.
‘One more thing. Cian’s coming back to work on a staggered basis, beginning with working from home.
’ At this, Jimmy makes a disgusted scoffing noise because while we’re entitled to two days of it per week, he hates anyone working from home.
‘Cian’s at his folks’ place while he recovers, and when HR were doing your return-to-work form, they noticed it’s the next street over from you. How strange.’
‘Who’s Cian?’
‘The best cloud network infrastructure engineer in the biz.’
I’m none the wiser. ‘I must have missed this. What happened to him?’
‘Climbing accident.’
‘What was he climbing?’
Jimmy pushes out a suspiciously plump bottom lip.
‘A mountain. A cliff. A wall. I don’t know what you crazy kids do for kicks.
We couriered over his things yesterday, cost us a bomb.
And there’s more. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind dropping it off.
Here.’ Jimmy dumps a carrier bag on the desk with a Post-it note stuck to the front.
On it, is an address, and he’s right, it’s the next street over from my own.
‘Fantastic,’ Jimmy says. ‘Of course, leave early, I don’t want this to cut into your personal time. You know how much I respect work-life balance.’
‘No problem.’ I take the bag, which is filled with a keyboard, a box file, some cables and a Pink Panther bobble head, and go back to my desk where Nicole is mixing her second Berocca of the day.
‘What did he want?’ she asks. ‘Was he checking up on you?’
‘He wants me to pitch him a food podcast. Like an online version of some TV show called Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.’
Nicole sighs happily. ‘I used to love that show. I can’t believe Jimmy’s finally found out about podcasts. What’s next, the Chat mascots doing dance challenges on TikTok?’
I put my hands on my hips. ‘Are you serious? We’ve already done that. That’s how the Xiang costume got ruined.’
Nicole laughs into her drink. ‘That mascot is jinxed. Is Jimmy in a good mood? I need to ask if I can leave early next Wednesday for Teddy’s science fair.’
I shut down my computer, knowing I’ll get another two hours of work in once I’m home. ‘Didn’t Teddy’s science fair already happen?’
‘No. That was Tia’s class assembly on the Stone Age.’
My Crocs seem to have disappeared under my desk, so I crawl around to fetch them. ‘Why do your children have so many events?’ I ask as I come back up.
Nicole fusses with her new coral-pink fringe. ‘Because my children have no respect. Where are you going? You never leave work before five.’
‘Jimmy asked me to drop some stuff over to that guy who had the accident.’ I check the Post-it again. ‘Cian Walsh.’
‘Jimmy asked you to be his courier and you said yes? We spoke about the word no. You are allowed to use it.’
I ignore Nicole’s judging eyes to search my desk drawers for socks.
‘Try it,’ Nicole pushes, ‘say it with me. No,’ she articulates slowly. ‘Especially today, you must be drained.’
‘I wasn’t people-pleasing. The network engineer lives on the next street to me.’
‘You do know it’s a whole department? It’s not just Cian managing the entire network.’
‘Why can I never find two of the same socks? Ah, this’ll do.’
Nicole clutches at her heart. ‘You helpless, sweet child. Please let me purchase you some matching socks.’
‘How d’you know my socks don’t match? You can’t even see my feet.’
‘I can sense your chaos from across the desk.’
‘It’s too hot for socks anyway.’ Then I gasp. ‘Is Cian the one I . . . ?’
‘No.’ Nicole snorts the Berocca through her nose. ‘That was Reginald.’
‘You let me kiss someone called Reginald?’
‘I loved Reginald,’ she says, ‘though he got sacked for doing something very bad.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t gossip.’ She mimes zipping her mouth shut.
I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. The kind of yawn that takes its time coming out. Nicole stares and I pull a hand in front of my mouth.
‘Go home and sleep. I’ll see you next week.’
‘I didn’t think being back would tire me out this much,’ I admit.