CHAPTER 1 #2
‘Ah no, don’t worry – thanks so much, though!
’ I lied as I struggled in, determined to make it up to the seventh floor without help.
Almost defeated by the barriers, knowing my pass was buried in my handbag, the building’s night manager opened the one nearest to me.
She nodded, her expression knowing, as I mumbled more thanks, using my elbow to stab the lift button and finally stepping out at the almost silent open-plan office.
‘Lottie, we’re in the boardroom. Get a move on, would you?’ a voice called out across the expanse of empty desks.
‘Be right there,’ I called back, almost whimpering at the sharp stab of the blisters, promising myself the sad reward of plasters for my feet after delivering the coffee.
Hurrying over, I opened the door with my hip and set the coffee down on the side counter. The main table was covered in laptops, a presentation slide on the big screen at the back and Tom, the marketing director, and Cressida’s boss, giving instructions for amends.
‘Did you really go to . . . Starbucks ?’
Cressida’s face was aghast, as though I’d just presented a brace of severed heads.
‘Carrelli’s is closed today,’ I replied quietly. ‘There was a note on the door. I thought arriving with no coffee would be worse.’
Tom quirked an eyebrow.
‘Right,’ she said, pinching her brow. ‘And you didn’t go over to Notes on Victoria Road because . . .’
‘Oh Cress, give it a rest.’ Tom gestured me over with his hand, shaking his head. ‘She’s trying. It’s just coffee. We can go out after we’ve delivered this.’
I passed him his drink as some of the others came over to help themselves, not daring to catch his eye or hers, fear suppressing the internal seething.
Cressida huffed, flicking her perfect, poker-straight blonde hair over one shoulder.
It was the colour of champagne, contrasting with the sharp black skirt suit and blood-red lips.
‘Well, I can’t drink that slop,’ she snapped, grey eyes piercing mine. ‘Could you get me a bottle of water, if you can manage it? It’s in the small kitchen by the double doors.’
Her voice was slick ice, every other gaze and reaction from the team sliding off her to me. The passive-aggressive directions to the kitchen we used every day threatened to bloom across my cheeks, so I left before they could.
Feet still on fire, I marched to the kitchen and snatched a glass bottle from the fridge, delivering it to the boardroom as quickly and silently as possible.
No one so much as looked up, Cressida actively ignoring me and the rest engrossed in making the final tweaks to the slides I’d spent the last week creating.
Finally, tears rising, I took off the torturous shoes outside the meeting room and hobbled to the toilets.
In silence I peeled and stuck plasters on both feet, grimacing as I slid the shoes back on.
Then, sighing, I pulled myself together and scraped my now rampant curls back into a tight bun, reapplying my make-up to calm myself, as though painting on my composure.
Back at my desk, I tried to settle myself, methodically making a list of tasks and highlighting the ones that absolutely had to happen that day.
Working through my emails, I eventually came across the one from Heather, as Cressida had mentioned.
It was weird – very vague but also very definite in its tone.
The meeting was scheduled for an hour at nine, and even more strangely, my diary was clear for the rest of the day.
Frowning and checking Cressida’s calendar, rammed full after nine, I tried to think of a time when I hadn’t been in near constant meetings.
It must be the effect of the board coming in today, the whole reason for the presentation I’d been prepping and the latest excuse for making me work twelve-hour days.
I refocused on my list and, headphones in, I let Dolly soothe my frayed nerves.
The office gradually filled around me, more fixed expressions and shadowed eyes than I’d noticed before.
Giving the occasional nod and smile to people I knew, I wondered if it’d always been this way, or whether today was somehow different.
It felt different, but I had no fucking clue why.
Neither Cressida nor the rest of the team came back over to the marketing department, but I was more than grateful for the reprieve.
Just before nine, clutching my laptop and phone to my chest like a shield, I entered the meeting room.
Heather from HR looked up, a tentative smile forming. Sitting opposite her at the round table was Cressida, sporting a very different kind of smile.
‘Hello, Lottie,’ Heather said, gesturing to the empty chair nearest the door. ‘Have a seat.’
My own rictus expression froze in place as I sat down, laptop all but sliding out of my instantly sweating palms and onto the polished walnut wood.
Was this about the coffee? The first missed call this morning at five thirty? I hadn’t meant to turn my phone to silent last night, but Hestia’s drunk messages had been endless.
‘You’re probably wondering what this is all about, I imagine?’
Heather’s expression was guarded, her eyes still and measured. I nodded, swallowing as Cressida’s head tilted to one side, as though she was enjoying whatever was unfolding.
‘Well, I won’t draw it out, but you might’ve heard that market conditions are tough at the moment, what with all of the various global challenges we’re facing.
’ She paused, clearly expecting some kind of response.
When I offered nothing, my head blank and my heart beginning to pound in my ears, she continued.
‘So unfortunately, we’re having to make a difficult call across the business, in multiple departments, to let a small number of people go at a certain level. ’
The silence in the room between us was absolute, broken only by the sound of a phone ringing somewhere down the corridor.
A hollow feeling opened in my stomach, as though someone was busily vacuuming the contents out, leaving me reeling.
I knew I had to say something, even as the same prickling feeling behind my eyes threatened again.
Cressida lifted an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curved in challenge.
‘I see,’ I breathed, focusing on Heather, her careful neutrality easier to navigate.
‘Unfortunately, that does include your role. It’s not a reflection of your work – Cressida assures me that everything you’ve done has been largely satisfactory. I can walk you through the practicalities, of course, but this is your one week’s notice.’
Largely satisfactory? Almost a year of back-breaking, exhausting slog, delivering everything asked of me and more, on time – no, early – for ‘largely satisfactory’?
My stupor shattered as I looked over to Cressida’s face, the same vindictive expression I’d shed tears and lost sleep over present once again.
‘I can appreciate that it’s not easy to be made redundant, but you’ll receive good references and I’m sure will have no problem finding another role. Do you have any immediate questions?’
‘No,’ I said quietly, instead keeping a handle on the tears that threatened, resolving that I would be absolutely damned if I let Cressida see me upset again.
Heather nodded, rising to standing.
‘I’ll need you to prepare a handover for the team,’ Cressida drawled, stretching like a cat. ‘Then you’re free to go.’
I paused as I stood, keeping my face blank. My temper was rising, something I worked hard to keep a lid on, especially amongst the unflappable lawyers around me. As I opened my mouth to agree, another glance at her bored, lazily amused expression choked the words that had been forming.
‘Oh no, I’m sure that’s not necessary,’ I said instead, savage joy stirring at the surprise in her eyes. ‘You’ll figure it out. I know how anything less than excellence won’t fly in your team, Cressida. My notes would only be largely satisfactory , so it’s probably better if you do them yourself.’
I did my best to stalk out of the meeting room without hobbling, clamping my hands around my laptop to prevent myself from flipping her off.