Chapter Three
Ella
The following morning, I was heading towards the office with a hefty hangover dulling its cloudy weight over me, but I had taken some paracetamol and drunk my usual milk thistle, praying for a quick fix.
I left my flat in Hillhead and travelled on the subway from the West End towards the city centre, still unsure if I was safe to drive after last night’s alcohol consumption.
As I entered the small open-plan office space, I spotted Zola and Katy slumped over their desks, hardly speaking. I laughed as I approached them.
‘Morning!’ I called out.
Both of them screwed up their faces and covered their ears immediately.
‘Sssshhhh , keep it down,’ Katy moaned.
I pulled my leather jacket off and placed it over my seat before gladly taking a seat.
‘Why do you look like that?’ Katy pointed at my sheer white blouse and pencil skirt.
‘Yeah, it’s very annoying. Just come in looking like shit for one day, hun. We’d respect you more,’ Zola said, resting her head on her hands.
‘No, I am rough. This is just a disguise. But I drank lots of water when I got home. I texted you both and reminded you to do the same!’ I laughed, examining my friends in their creased clothes, both looking like they had spent the night sleeping in a hedge.
At that moment, Andrea’s precision bob bolted through the office. ‘OK, so listen up, people! Could we all gather round?’
I stood up and turned to my friends, who were dragging themselves to their feet. We joined our colleagues in a familiar circle-time meeting.
‘Let’s make this one short and snappy. I want everyone to tell me what they’re working on this week and where you expect to be by the end of the week.’ Andrea’s sharp eyes narrowed as they scanned the group, and I watched them pause on me.
I stood up poker straight, readjusting myself.
‘Let’s start with you, Ella Banks,’ she said, one brow raised to the sky.
‘OK, yes, sure. Morning, everyone .?.?.’
‘Short and sharp.’ Andrea clapped her hands.
In my peripheral vision, I could see Zola shake her head disapprovingly at Andrea’s lack of manners.
The London office was a lot more zen than Glasgow.
That lot would take their shoes off at meetings and stretch back on bean bags to brainstorm.
They could work from home if they pleased and were always encouraged to bounce ideas off their boss without fear of being struck down by a lightning bolt of criticism.
Fuck, they could even bring their pets to work on a Friday.
The Glasgow approach was much more formal, businesslike – and utterly shambolic for Zola, but she’d moved here for a promotion.
And although she detested Andrea and her culture-of-fear methods, there was no denying it – we always achieved the best results.
‘So, this week, I’m continuing to prioritise Alexander Cambi’s art exhibition. I’m sussing out venues and emailing art world clients RSVPs to get an idea of how big the venue will need to be to host it.’
‘Weren’t you,’ Andrea cleared her throat, then mimicked my voice at an obscenely higher pitch than her own, ‘prioritising that last week?’
I gulped. I had been prioritising this project for a fucking month with no idea how I’d pull it off.
‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘It has been quite tricky. The art world in Glasgow isn’t as .?.?. keen for his style of traditional portraits as elsewhere, it seems.’
‘You have one more week to prioritise it. Book a venue, establish a guest list, sell the paintings. Cambri wants to launch this collection in three weeks, Ella.’
I nodded, feeling clammy and out-of-sorts, unsure whether it was from last night’s binge or the uncomfortable sudden pressure.
But Andrea was already done with me, shifting her gaze sharply to my right. ‘Zola?’
‘I’m creating the website and revamping the social media for Luxe Lengths hair extensions. The owner, Lisa, is renowned in her field and has a lot of celebrity clients, so I’ve created a website showcasing her talent. It should be done by the end of the day.’
Andrea’s head tilted, which was as close to appreciation as any of us were going to get today. She shifted her gaze along once more.
‘And Katy, Katy, Katy .?.?. Will I tell you what you will be doing?’ Andrea asked, folding her arms with a smirk.
Katy’s eyes darted between Zola and me and then back to Andrea, not knowing how this would turn out.
‘The Tunnock’s campaign?’
‘No. Tina, that’s now your pitch.’
Tina straightened in an instant, immediately scribbling into her notebook.
My stomach twisted. Was Katy about to get fired?
Or a warning? I could hear my heart pound in my eardrums. Andrea had fired two senior PR girls last month alone for having low engagements on a post for one of their client’s social media accounts.
She sent them to HR stating they were unable to carry out their job description and we never saw them again.
Why do I even try to do this job under this wannabe fucking mini-Putin? !
‘You will be working on your new client, Blaze Boost. Congratulations!’
A wave of relief washed through my body. Thank fuck!
I turned to Katy, whose mouth was gaping wide. ‘Wait. I .?.?. I .?.?. got it?’
Andrea attempted to smile, but her face always looked like it was in pain when she showed her teeth. ‘You did. And this week you’ll be hitting the gyms, selling their products. See which ones work, then we can pitch an idea to them at the end of the month.’
Katy nodded, gulping down hard. ‘OK, thanks, Andrea, thanks so—’
‘Short and sharp now, Katy.’ She pointed towards her, giving her a brief warning.
Thankfully, Andrea then moved on to the rest of the group. After she advised and dictated her views on their workloads, we returned to our desks to get started.
I put one arm around Katy and smiled. ‘I knew you had this. Well done!’
She breathed out a long sigh, seemingly relieved. ‘Thanks, although I wouldn’t have gone in there without you guys.’
‘True. Very true!’ Zola said, laughing as we all sat down.
‘How am I going to smash this campaign?’ I asked softly, glancing over the hundreds of RSVP emails I’d sent out without even a glimpse of success.
I felt like an absolute failure. I wasn’t used to struggling with anything, let alone work.
I wondered what Andrea would do to me if I couldn’t pull this off.
Would I get a warning? Or just sent out the door with my P60 in hand?
‘ Oh my God! Guys! Guys! Look! He’s .?.?. he’s back with his ex.’ Katy stood up, her face furious. She brandished her phone at us, displaying Mark’s Instagram, where he’d posted the perfect stack of pancakes at Bramble and tagged his ex.
I watched my friend’s face glow scarlet with rage.
‘Katy, sit down. Babe?’ Zola tugged on her arm, and she flopped to her chair.
‘Is he serious? He had sex with me two days ago. Two fucking days ago, Zo!’ Her eyes filled up with tears.
I shuffled my chair over towards her and rubbed her shoulder. ‘Hey, he doesn’t deserve you, Katy. You know that.’
‘He never tagged me . He never took me for brunch. Why am I never the girl they want to show off on Instagram or buy fucking pancakes for?’ Her bottom lip was quivering.
‘Do you honestly think he will treat her well?’ I insisted. ‘Babe, you just said he was shagging you two days ago. Do you think he’ll be able to keep this going with her? He’s incapable of a long-term relationship, Katy. Just like most of his generation out there.’
Katy covered her face with her hands.
‘Look, I know it’s hurtful, and it’s not what you want to see, but you are free now.
No more questioning his intent, overthinking his short-ass messages, constantly wondering if he’s being dry, if you said something wrong, or if he’s just too busy.
You know now. Let’s move on,’ Zola said gently but firmly, and I agreed.
‘Plus, stop following him on Instagram, yeah?’
‘Move on?’ Katy laughed. ‘Move on again . I’m thirty-three, Zola; my ovaries have fucking dust mites on them.
Honest to God!’ She sighed heavily. ‘I’m not even mad at Mark.
I’m mad at myself for allowing myself to get hurt over and over again by these fucking men.
No, these boys ! I’ve had enough of it.’
There was a silence between us as the truth of Katy’s words struck home for us all. Then, suddenly, I remembered our conversation from last night.
I turned to them and laughed a little, suddenly nervous about speaking about the website in a more sober circumstance. ‘You’re not thinking what I’m thinking, are you?’ I asked the others.
Katy wiped down her face quickly and looked up with a resigned expression. I could tell she was considering the ultimate revenge she could take. ‘Do it. Make the page, Zo.’
Zola glanced towards me. ‘You’re one hundred per cent in, Ella?’
I looked at Katy, and I saw how much she wanted this. She needed this distraction.
‘Yeah, yeah. Do it, I’m in.’
‘OK. Payback commencing, bitches!’ Zola laughed wickedly, turned to her computer and began typing furiously.
She was like that the whole day. Occasionally, Katy and I would try to sneak a peek, but she batted us away.
I wasn’t sure if she wasn’t wanting to draw attention to the fact she was creating it on the clock, or if she just wanted to show us the end result only when she was finished.
I continued researching the best places for Alexander’s art exhibition, but I needed more motivation.
I knew very little about the art world, never mind how to promote it.
I made some Coming Soon posters for Instagram detailing the artist’s visit to Glasgow and sent them to my contacts in the press.
I wasn’t convincing even myself that it would be enough to make a difference.
Around six, Zola turned to us.
‘It’s almost done!’ she whispered. ‘I mean, I have to add the special features and the security and things but I have the home page and tabs ready.’