Extract 4

We’re nearing the Panther building now...

As Katie and I push our way through the heavy revolving glass doors, we look at each other in bewilderment. The whole place is in turmoil. People are scurrying about, someone’s polishing the brass banister, someone else is polishing the fake plants, and Cyril, the senior office manager, is shooing people into lifts.

“What’s happening?” I say to Dave the security guard, who’s lounging against the wall with a cup of tea as usual. He takes a sip, swills it around his mouth and gives us a grin.

“Jack Harper’s visiting.”

“What?” We both gawp at him.

“Today?”

“Are you serious?”

In the world of the Panther Corporation, this is like saying the Pope’s visiting. Or Father Christmas. Jack Harper is the joint founder of the Panther Corporation. He invented Panther Cola. I know this because I’ve typed out blurbs about him approximately a million times. ‘It was 1987 when young, dynamic business partners Jack Harper and Pete Laidler bought up the ailing Zoot soft-drinks company, repackaged Zootacola as Panther Cola, invented the slogan “Don’t Pause”, and thus made marketing history.’

No wonder Cyril’s in a tizz.

***

The atmosphere in the marketing department is a bit like my bedroom used to be before we had parties in the sixth form. People are brushing their hair, spraying perfume, shuffling papers around and gossiping excitedly. As I walk past the office of Neil Gregg, who is in charge of media strategy, I see him carefully lining up his Marketing Effectiveness awards on his desk, while Fiona his assistant is polishing the framed photographs of him shaking hands with famous people.

I’m just hanging up my coat on the rack when the head of our department, Paul, pulls me aside.

“What happened at Glen Oil? I had a very strange email from Doug Hamilton this morning. You poured a drink over him?”

I stare at him in shock. Doug Hamilton told Paul? But he promised he wouldn’t!

“It wasn’t like that,” I say quickly. “I was just trying to demonstrate the many fine qualities of Panther Prime and I… I kind of spilled it.” Paul raises his eyebrows, not in a friendly way.

“All right. It was a lot to ask of you.”

“It wasn’t,” I say quickly. “I mean, it would have been fine, if… what I mean is, if you give me another chance, I’ll do better. I promise.”

“We’ll see.” He looks at his watch. “You’d better get on. Your desk is a mess.”

***

“OK, folks,” says Paul, striding into the department. “He’s on this floor. He’s going into Admin first…”

“On with your everyday tasks!” exclaims Cyril. “Now!”

What’s my everyday task?

I pick up my phone and press my voice-mail code. I can be listening to my messages.

I look around the department – and see that everyone else has done the same thing.

We can’t all be on the phone. This is so stupid!

I know what I’ll do. I’ll be the person getting a coffee. I mean, what could be more natural than that?

“I think I’ll get a coffee,” I say self-consciously, and get up from my seat.

As I’m waiting for the noxious liquid to fill my cup, I glance up, and see Graham Hillingdon walking out of the admin department, followed by a couple of others. He’s coming!

OK. Keep cool. Just wait for the second cup to fill, nice and natural…

And there he is! With his blond hair and his expensive-looking suit, and his dark glasses. But to my slight surprise, he steps back, out of the way.

In fact, no-one’s even looking at him. Everyone’s attention is focused on some other guy. A guy in jeans and a black turtleneck who’s walking out now.

As I stare in fascination, he turns. And as I see his face I feel an almighty thud, as though a bowling ball’s landed hard in my chest.

Oh my God.

It’s him.

The same dark eyes. The same lines etched around them. The stubble’s gone, but it’s definitely him.

It’s the man from the plane.

What’s he doing here?

And why is everyone’s attention on him? He’s speaking now, and they’re lapping up every word he says.

He turns again, and I instinctively duck back out of sight, trying to keep calm. What’s he doing here? He can’t–

That can’t be–

That can’t possibly be–

OK, keep calm. Maybe he won’t remember me. It was one short flight. He probably takes a lot of flights.

“Everyone.” Paul is leading him into the centre of the office. “I’m delighted to introduce our founding father, the man who has influenced and inspired a generation of marketeers – Jack Harper!”

***

Maybe he won’t recognize me. Maybe he won’t remember. Maybe he won’t–

He’s looking at me. I see the flash of surprise in his eyes, and he raises his eyebrows.

He recognizes me.

Please don’t come over, I silently pray. Please don’t come over.

“And who’s this?” he says to Paul.

“This is Emma Corrigan, one of our junior marketing assistants.”

He’s walking towards me. Artemis has stopped talking. Everyone’s staring. I’m hot with embarrassment.

“Hello,” he says pleasantly.

“Hello,” I manage. “Mr Harper.”

OK, so he recognizes me. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he remembers anything I said. A few random comments thrown out by a person in the next-door seat. Who’s going to remember that? Maybe he wasn’t even listening.

“And what do you do?”

“I, um, assist the marketing department and I help with setting up promotional initiatives,” I mumble.

“Emma was in Glasgow only last week on business,” puts in Paul, giving me a completely phoney smile. “We believe in giving our junior staff responsibility as early as possible.”

“Very wise,” says Jack Harper, nodding. His gaze runs over my desk and alights with sudden interest on my polystyrene cup. He looks up and meets my eye. “How’s the coffee?” he asks pleasantly. “Tasty?”

Like a tape recording in my head, I suddenly hear my own stupid voice, prattling on.

“The coffee at work is the most disgusting stuff you’ve ever drunk, absolute poison …”

“It’s great!” I say. “Really… delicious!”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” There’s a spark of amusement in his eyes, and I feel myself redden.

He remembers. He remembers.

“And this is Artemis Harrison,” says Paul. “One of our brightest young marketing executives.”

“Artemis,” says Jack Harper thoughtfully. He takes a few steps towards her work station.

“That’s a nice big desk you’ve got there, Artemis.” He smiles at her. “Is it new?”

“…this new desk arrived the other day, and she just took it…”

He remembers everything, doesn’t he? Everything.

Oh God. What else did I say?

I’m sitting perfectly still, while Artemis makes some showy-off reply, with my pleasant, good-employee expression. But my mind is frantically spooling back, trying to remember, trying to piece together what I said. I mean, God, I told this man everything about myself. Everything. I told him what sort of knickers I wear, and what flavour ice-cream I like, and how I lost my virginity, and–

My blood runs cold.

I’m remembering something I should not have told him.

Something I should not have told anyone.

“…I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I so wanted to get the job…”

I told him about faking the A grade on my CV.

Well, that’s it. I’m dead.

He’ll fire me. I’ll get a record for being dishonest and no-one will ever employ me again, and I’ll end up on a ‘Britain’s Worst Jobs’ documentary, clearing up cow poo, saying brightly “It’s not too bad, really.”

OK. Don’t panic. There must be something I can do. I’ll apologize. Yes. I’ll say it was an error of judgement which I now deeply regret, and I never meant to mislead the company, and–

***

I’m not going to let him fire me. I’m just not going to let it happen.

I stride across the office and down the corridor to the meeting room, knock on the door and push it open.

Jack Harper is sitting on a chair at the conference table, scribbling something in a notebook.

As I come in, he looks up, and the grave expression on his face makes my stomach turn over.

But I have to defend myself. I have to keep this job.

“Hi,” he says. “Can you close the door?” He waits until I’ve done so, then looks up. “Emma, we need to talk about something.”

“I’m aware that we do,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “But I’d like to say my part first, if I may.”

For a moment Jack Harper looks taken aback – then he raises his eyebrows.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

I walk into the room, take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye.

“Mr Harper, I know what you want to see me about. I know it was wrong. It was an error of judgement which I deeply regret. I’m extremely sorry, and it will never happen again. But in my defence…” I can hear my voice rising in emotion. “In my defence, I had no idea who you were on that plane ride. And I don’t believe I should be penalized for what was an honest genuine mistake.”

There’s a pause.

“You know, a lot of people would call that fraud,” says Jack Harper, leaning back in his chair.

“I know they would. I know it was wrong. I shouldn’t have… But it doesn’t affect the way I do my job. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You think?” He shakes his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Going from a C grade to an A grade… that’s quite a jump. What if we need you to do some math?”

“I can do maths,” I say desperately. “Ask me a maths question. Go on, ask me anything.”

“OK.” His mouth is twitching. “Eight nines.”

I stare at him, my heart racing, my mind blank. Eight nines. I’ve got no idea. OK, once nine is nine. Two nines are–

No. I’ve got it. Eight tens are 80. So eight nines must be–

“Seventy-two!” I cry, and flinch as he gives a tiny half-smile. “It’s seventy-two,” I add more calmly.

“Very good.” He gestures politely to a chair. “Now. Have you finished what you wanted to say or is there more?”

I rub my face confusedly. “You’re… not going to fire me?”

“No,” says Jack Harper patiently. “I’m not going to fire you. Now can we talk?”

As I sit down, a horrible suspicion starts growing in my mind.

“Was…” I clear my throat. “Was my CV what you wanted to see me about?”

“No,” he says mildly. “That wasn’t what I wanted to see you about.”

I want to die.

I want to die right here, right now.

“For various reasons,” says Jack Harper slowly, “I would prefer it that nobody knows I was in Scotland last week.” He meets my eyes. “So I would like it very much if we could keep our little meeting between ourselves.”

“Right!” I say after a pause. “Of course! Absolutely. I can do that.”