Chapter 1
‘That’s right.’
‘What do you think he’s going to say to you?’
Ally was sitting on the sofa, cuddling her leopard Squishmallow and talking on the phone to Rosemarie, who seemed to be responding to the catastrophe with a round of Twenty Questions.
‘I’m not sure, Rosemarie, but at a wild guess I’d say “You’re fired.”’
‘Oh my God. That’s brutal. Have you heard from William?’
She sighed. ‘No. Surprise, surprise.’
This was the bit she couldn’t bear to think about.
‘You know what, I think you should call the union. Let them know what’s happened.’
‘I’d say they know. In fact, everyone in the company does, right down to the sandwich delivery van.’
‘Oh, right. Still, you could have a case of unfair dismissal.’
‘I don’t know, Rosie, it’s probably fair dismissal. I mean, what was I thinking?’
‘I don’t know, what were you thinking?’
‘I fucked up.’
And that was about the size of it.
‘I’m here for you anyhow, girl,’ said her friend loyally.
Only then did the seriousness of her actions hit home. Ally ended the call and burst into tears.
* * *
At 8 a.m. precisely Ally found herself ushered into Conal O’Callaghan’s office, which wasn’t as plush as you might have expected.
There was a coffee machine in the corner and a mug that said Warning: May Start to Talk about Rugby.
The wall was covered by a large year planner and a row of framed International Concrete Society awards.
Conal himself was sitting behind his desk, looking grim. He was a wide man with a charcoal grey suit and assertively striped tie.
‘I’m not going to give this any more time than necessary,’ he said.
‘I’m just letting you know that your employment with this company is terminated as of right now.
You’ll be paid for the next month. Take it up with HR – sorry, you are HR.
Take it up with whoever you like but you don’t get to do things like that stunt yesterday and get to keep your job in my company. ’
Oh God, thought Ally. Her mind was going blank from panic but in a last desperate pitch, something squeaked out.
‘How about if I sent a circular email back to all the same people, saying it had been a stupid prank that went wrong and it was all my fault and there was no harm intended and I’m terribly sorry and can we all just move on. Or something?’
She could hear her voice petering out in the face of his stony expression.
‘Alison, I could have simply fired you in an email. However, I was very . . . let’s just say, put out personally by your action.
Just to clarify: imagine somebody sets off a bomb in their office and then they see the damage they’ve done, would you think it’s enough for them to just apologise and take it all back? ’
Another silence. Oh dear, he was actually expecting an answer.
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s too late.’
‘And?’
‘The damage is already done.’
‘Exactly. Now please clear your desk and leave your lanyard there – your access to the building has been revoked. That’s all.’
With that, he dropped his gaze and immediately turned his attention to another task, making her feel more worthless than she had ever felt in her life.
Fighting back tears, she crept out of the CEO’s office, trying to take up as little space as possible, past his PA without meeting her gaze and straight to her desk, hoping to God she could get cleared and gone before running into too many people. It was 8.07 a.m.
There wasn’t much to pack into a plastic carrier bag: Mavis, her money plant, a pen holder in the shape of a porcupine and a photo of her parents at her graduation.
Not much to show for more than five years of her life.
And now she was leaving her beige cubicle to somebody else and soon nobody would even remember she’d worked there.
Except Rosemarie, and maybe Crystal, if she needed a favour.
A bit like life, she thought. A lot of fuss for not much in the end.