Captured (3 page)

Kirsty knew then that she had made a mistake. It was obvious that Angela knew more about the situation than she had just told her. Jones had clearly had his plans cleared by HR before putting Daniel on the Callan account. She remembered Grace’s advice from earlier that morning.
If you get a negative reaction, keep it neutral and get out.

“I’ve got another meeting in a moment, but thanks for your help.” Kirsty stood up, brushing the creases from her skirt.

“No problem, I’m here to help.” Angela smiled her lightless smile again, and held the door open.

Back at her desk, Kirsty seethed. Grace wasn’t answering her phone. She had called Simon late the night before – ostensibly to chat about her meeting with HR – but he had curtly told her that he believed they should stay away from each other for a while. She mulled over their conversation now, trying to decide whether to IM him or not. She typed a message quickly. The cursor blinked back at her.

“Kirsty, do you have a sec?” she hadn’t noticed Daniel walk over, but he now loomed over her screen from the other side of the partition.

She looked up coldly, but stayed silent.

“I need to talk to you about Thursday. Can we go to one of the meeting rooms?”

“I’m pretty busy.”

“It’s important.”

She glanced at the screen. Simon hadn’t responded.
I could use a chat
, she thought.

“Fine,” she replied, standing up. She had no desire to be in the same room as the man right now, but the strange atmosphere between him and Simon the week before had piqued her curiosity. She led him to the empty office beside Jones’s.

Closing the door, he got straight to the point before he had even sat down. “Look, I never got a chance to talk to you after the meeting with the Callans on Thursday. I didn’t know Jones was going to do that, he just forwarded me the meeting invite. I’m not going to apologise for doing my job, but I just wanted you to know that it’s not like I asked Jones to take you off the account.”

He stopped and looked at her.

“Okay, thanks, I appreciate you telling me that,” she nodded.
He seems...nervous
, she thought.

He was silent, watching her. She looked back at him.

“It’s office politics Kirsty, I’m sorry but it’s not my fault. Jones obviously thinks I’ll make a good Girl Friday on his ride to the top, nothing else.”

The image was so ridiculous that she couldn’t help laughing.

“I don’t like this any more than you do. The last thing I wanted is to come in and start making enemies...” he trailed off, leaning back to look out the window.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” she asked, smiling.

“Yeah,” he smiled back. “So how do you know Williams?” Daniel swivelled in his chair.

“We used to go out. We were in the same grad programme,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m in the bad books at the moment though.”

“You’re in the what?”

“Oh we just broke up recently, that’s all.”

“So it’s finished between you two.”

She nodded.

“Good. He told you.”

“Told me what?”

He rubbed his chin and stopped moving.

“What?” she leaned forward and drummed her fingers on the desk.

“Nothing.”

She continued staring at him.

“This is awkward. Look, forget I said anything.” He looked sheepish. “I just assumed he’d told you, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Oh just spill it, would you?”

He exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. Believe me, it’s not the type of thing you should be hearing from a virtual stranger, and I never would have said anything if I hadn’t thought you’d known.” He rubbed his face again.

Kirsty used her foot to pull her chair closer to the table that separated them. She nodded at him, eyes wide, wishing he’d hurry up and tell her whatever it was he had to say.

“We were friends at school,” he said at last. “We played rugby together, snuck out drinking. We even shared a dorm. The usual lad stuff.

“One night when we were sixteen, I woke up and noticed he was missing. I snuck out to find him. Long story short, he had lost his temper and punched up a local girl pretty badly.”

“What?” Kirsty breathed, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, he knocked her around pretty bad.  The police found out and he was hauled off, but he was a minor so he got off pretty easily I suppose. “

Kirsty shook her head. “I’ve known him for years. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, never mind a person.”

“I’m sorry.” Daniel shook his head and looked at her sympathetically.

She leaned back in the chair and ran her hands through her hair, trying to picture what Daniel had just described. “But how can he do something like that and then get a job in a bank? They have such tight checks on everything.”

Daniel wore an awkward expression. “No idea. I hadn’t seen him since that night. I’m sorry you had to hear it from me, I really am.”

“It’s okay,” she looked back at him, hardly seeing him. “I’m glad you told me, it’s just...”

He stood up. “I’ll leave you alone. Rich is out, maybe you should just go home. It’s a lot to take in.”

She smiled at him shakily as he walked past her to the door.

When Jones walked past to his office, it felt like several months had gone by since Kirsty last saw him. Her heart sank: throughout his absence it had been business as usual. She anxiously waited for ten minutes to tick past before going to his office.

“Can I have a word?” she asked, not waiting for a response before she walked in and sat down.

He sighed. “Well if it can’t wait. I’ve just returned from mandatory leave. I have a
lot
of emails to get through. As I’m sure you know.”

“It won’t take long. I’m concerned about the restructure... reallocation...
whatever
... and I hoped we could address any performance issues...” she began, before he cut off with a tremendous sigh.

“We’ve had this discussion. And I hear you’ve had the same one with HR too.” He looked at her. “Angela was concerned that I might have a mutiny on my hands, so she called me,” he added, defensively. “There is no performance issue. I’m acting in the interest of the client. That’s my
job
.”

“If there’s no performance issue, then why is it in the interest of the client? And why the fuck did the client think that I was leaving the company?” Kirsty hissed, angry at herself for losing control. His exaggerated calm always had an incendiary effect on her.

He tutted. “This is ridiculous. We’re not getting anywhere with this conversation. Do I need to call HR and turn it into a disciplinary matter?”

She stared at him, shocked, before standing up and leaving the room. She left the door ajar knowing that she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to slam it.

As she sat back down at her desk and unlocked her computer, a message appeared in the corner of her screen.

Coffee?

She smiled.

“Look, you’ll probably accuse me of trying to usurp your
other
client, but I’m going to go ahead and say it anyway.” Daniel took a gulp of water. “Have you thought about moving? You’re not going to get far locking horns with Richard Jones.”

“That’s your answer, run away?” she snorted humourlessly.

“Well, yeah. What else are you going to do? Stage a coup like the one HR thinks you’re planning?”

She laughed, slapping him on the arm. “You’re probably right. With Richard, and all that stuff about Simon, it’d be nice just to get away.”

He smiled back at her, silently.

“What?” she asked at last.

He laughed nervously. “Would you like to go for a drink some time?”

She looked at him. He was watching her expectantly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Daniel. We work together. And then there’s Simon.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“No. He’s been away for some sales roadshow since last week.”

He looked at his watch. “I have to get back or Rich’ll be terribly upset.  He hasn’t seen me in two weeks.”

She laughed, finishing her coffee. “So you think I should quit too, eh?” she asked, standing up and brushing muffin crumbs from her grey wool trousers.

“I’m not the only one?”

“My friend Grace is adamant that I should just leave. Volunteer in Timbuktu I think she said.”

“It’s your call,” he shrugged, pressing the lift button. “But you have to do something, otherwise you’ll still be here complaining about Rich in twenty years time.”

“You’ll be fed up of listening to me by then; you’ll end up punching me after five,” she laughed.

“I’ll be CEO by then, I can just have you fired.”

For the rest of the day she could think of little else: she knew she needed to make a decision and stick to it. She had gone back to her desk resolute, but self-reflection was much easier than action, and at two o’clock she was still sitting staring into space. Her black screen betrayed her inactivity.

“On strike, are we?” Richard called as he blustered past on his way to the lifts.

“Prick,” she muttered quietly. 

Returning her attention to her screen, she opened Simon’s calendar, surprised that he hadn’t revoked her access. Seeing that he had meetings booked for that afternoon in London, she picked up the phone and dialled his extension.

“Kirsty?”

“Hi, yeah. I need to talk to you.”

He sighed. “I just got back from Dubai. Didn’t you hear me when I said we should take some time away from each other?”

“I know. And I’m fine with that. But I spoke to Daniel, he told me some things,” she raised her head and looked around the quiet office, stopping mid-sentence.

Simon was silent on the other end of the line. “What things?”

“You know,” she whispered. “Is it true? What he said?”

He sighed again.

“Simon?”

“Yes,” he replied, and hung up.

She replaced the receiver and tried his number again. It went to voicemail. She opened Microsoft Word. In a few minutes, she had composed a brief resignation letter, which she printed, folded, and placed on top of a teetering pile of documents on her desk. 

Opening a new browser window, she selected
travelpedia.com
from her favourites. She tapped her chin, thinking, as the screen loaded. She could go anywhere. But where would she go first? She had been passively thinking about how she could afford to leave over the past two weeks, but the idea had now taken on a momentum of its own. She’d worry about the finances later; the immediate problem was deciding where to go. Impatient, her fingers flew across the keyboard as she keyed in different destinations and noted the flight times and costs. Kathmandu, Bangkok, Buenos Aires: they just seemed like abstract, colourful phantasms to her, not real places. Impulsively, she booked a one-way ticket to Singapore, typing her credit card details from memory.

Now I have no choice but to do something
, she thought, picking up the phone.

“Grace”, she whispered, not wanting to attract the attention of her cubicle neighbours, “I’m going to do it!”

“That’s great,” Grace exclaimed, before lowering her voice, “but I’m sorry, I really have to go. I’ll call you later.”

She hung up the phone and twisted restlessly around in her chair, hoping that Jones would return soon. Now that she had finally made a decision, she wanted to get the last step over with.

To kill time, she searched online for ‘Singapore’. All she knew about the place was that it was one of Asia’s main transport hubs, and it was relatively developed compared to the other Asian capitals.
The perfect starting point
, she thought. She had booked the flight for exactly five weeks later, and purposely selected the non-refundable option. It helped that it had also been the cheapest. She scrolled distractedly through the search results.

“Are you shopping again? God help the man who marries you!” Richard Jones’s braying voice cut through her reverie.

Picking up the letter with a flourish, she trailed him the short distance to his office, where he was still standing, hanging up his coat.

“Have you got a minute?” she asked.

He looked at her for a moment before nodding mutely.

The actual decision had been such a sudden one that she now found herself speechless. Sitting down in one of the chairs facing his desk, she played with the corners of her letter, sensing his growing impatience.

Might as well just get to the point so I can get out and celebrate
. “I’ve decided to leave. I’ve been here for three years now, and I’ve decided to do some travelling.” She looked up at him, waiting for his response.

The tension had lifted from his face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Really? You look happier than I’ve seen you in months... “
And I’m sorry to leave. I’ve learned so much during my time here.” She would need a reference no matter what she ended up doing.

He looked at her impassively. “Have you decided what date you’re going to leave? I’ll need to let HR know.”

A few minutes later, having discussed the practicalities, she left Jones’s office, the reality sinking in. She couldn’t conceal her relief and excitement, practically skipping back to her desk. She clicked open IM, and typed quickly.

About that drink...

Grace watched Kirsty carefully as she returned to their red leather booth cradling a condensation-covered wine bucket .The bar was an old traditional pub in Moorgate, close to the offices where Grace had been holed up all day in client meetings. It had all the characteristics of an old London boozer, but the location meant that it boasted an excellent wine list, in spite of its rugged charm. The after-work crowd had begun to filter out, leaving behind only a handful of diehards reluctant to set food in the grey London drizzle.

“So it’s true,” she said, as Kirsty poured two glasses of pinot grigio.

“Yup.” Kirsty replaced the bottle in the bucket and held her glass to Grace’s. “Cheers. To new beginnings.”

Grace smiled, and watched her friend take an almighty gulp that half emptied her glass. “What did he say?”

“Who? Richard or Simon?”

“Well...both I suppose.”

“Richard reacted much as I expected.”

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Barely concealed joy?”

“Yup, you got it.”

“Dickhead. I’m so proud of you for finally quitting.”

“Thanks. It all seems a little crazy now that I’ve done it. What do I know about Asia?”

“You’ll be fine. I think you’re doing the right thing.”

Kirsty smiled. “Me too. I was humming and hawing all week, and then I spoke to Simon and that was just the catalyst. I need to get out of this place.”

Grace nodded, watching her silently.

“I didn’t think it was true. I mean, I’ve known the guy for years, pretty well I thought,” Kirsty continued.

“What exactly did he say?”

“Not much. I asked him if it was true and he said it was. Then later, he sent me an email telling me I could leave his stuff from my flat at reception and he’d pick it up from there. It was very formal. It all seems so unlike him: the way he’s acting now, and the idea that he’d do something like that in the first place.”

Grace patted her arm. “It’s amazing what people are capable of doing. But it is a long time ago now.”

“That’s true. Did you have any luck finding details about the case?”

“Nothing. Although there’s nothing strange about that when the information you need predates computerised records.” She finished her drink and reached across the table to top up their glasses. “You are happy you resigned though, aren’t you?”

Kirsty looked away from her friend’s scrutinising gaze, playing with a chipped corner of the old wooden table. “Yeah.”

“Well then cheer up,” smiled Grace. “You’ve done the right thing, getting out. I spoke to a friend whose husband works in employment law; she said that although it sounds clear-cut, discrimination cases can take months of negotiations and mediation in situations like yours, and I don’t think that’s something you want.”

Kirsty shook her head.

“I’m tempted to join you, you know.”

“Really?” Kirsty couldn’t hide her disbelief.

“Well no, probably not. I don’t think I could ever just quit – I’m not as brave as you are. But I might take some time off and meet you for a holiday.”

Kirsty slapped both hands against the table in rapid succession. “I’ll hold you to that!”

“Please do,” Grace laughed. “Now tell me more about this Daniel guy. One minute you fancy the pants off him, then he’s stealing your job and you hate him, and not you’re going out with him? I can’t keep up!”

After leaving the pub, Kirsty walked up Moorgate. It was dark, but the evening was mild. She felt her head clearing after only a few steps, and was soon lost in thought. Passing Grace’s offices, she was in a world of her own when she collided with something. She started, heart racing.

“Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly. She had walked straight into a tall man who was standing outside the building.

He turned to face her. “No harm done. Kirsty!  Good to see you,” Neil Lennox looked down at her. “It’s been a while.”

“Sorry, I was miles away. How’ve you been?”

“Oh good, this place keeps me busy. How about you? How’s work?”

“I just resigned today actually, so it’s pretty good,” she smiled.

“Good for you!”

“Yeah, Grace and I have just been celebrating.”

His face darkened. “Oh good. How is she?”

Kirsty cursed herself for mentioning her friend’s name. “She’s great. Busy.”

“That’s Grace,” he smiled bitterly. “Nothing matters but the job.”

“Neil, that’s not true.”

“In fairness Kirsty, it is, but I’m sorry, I know she’s your friend. Good seeing you though,” he rubbed her arm and smiled, before walking in the opposite direction towards the river.