Clapham Lights (33 page)

‘Hello, Mark Hunter,’ he says, monotone.

‘Yes that’s me.’ He clears his throat, scurries down a narrow
passageway
away from the noise of the road and stands in the doorway of a newsagent.

‘Yes that’s right.

‘Which headhunting firm did you say you were from?

‘OK. Can you give me a few more details about the job?

‘No, I’m massively interested. I’ve got the experience and I was
looking
at moving into that kind of area anyway. Where’s it based?

‘And would I have to travel to Dubai?

‘How often would that be?

‘No, not a problem at all. I’ve travelled a lot with work so-

‘And how much money are we talking?

‘Good. And what’s their bonus structure like?

Mark starts smiling. ‘No, but obviously if they’re really interested in me I’d negotiate with them.

‘Of course, of course.

‘Could you send me all the details on an email? Cheers. Yes, use the one on my contact details.

‘Sorry you cut out, could you say that again?’

Mark swallows. ‘Yes they did close. But I was leaving anyway because I had an offer from-

‘Oh yes of course I know, I’ll send you an updated one. I’ve not had the chance to update my details because I’ve been so busy on-

‘Where am I working at the moment?

‘I’m working for… I’m consulting for… I have my own private consultancy, I’ve been doing consultancy for…’ he looks through the newsagent’s window. ‘Tango.’ He clenches his teeth and silently admonishes himself. ‘I mean… on their investment account and, um, at the moment I’m working for…’

‘No, not strictly. I’m a consultant.

‘Self-employed then I suppose you’d say.

‘Am I registered? Um, yes of course.

‘No, just me.

‘
Why?
Um, I’ve been using my contacts to build a portfolio for-’

‘No, that was deliberate. I didn’t want to commit myself to one
company
but I am looking to-

‘No, I’d stop that, or I could do it on the side as I’m… I’m always looking for opportunities.

‘Technically no, but-

‘I’ve explained that-

‘No, no, no. Hang on, but I’d be perfect, I’ve been waiting for-

‘But headhunters are meant to find people jobs-

‘No, I’m not wasting your time, you called me. I’ve got all the-

‘No I am not unemployed! I can prove-’

‘I’ve turned down five jobs already this week.

‘No, turned down, not been turned down.

‘You can’t put the phone down! No, wait! I’m the-’

Mark mutters ‘prick’ and stands staring at his feet until the shopkeeper calls out for him to stop blocking the doorway. He then gets a text from Craig saying that he’s coming back on Friday for an interview.

For the next hour, Mark wanders the streets of the City as the light fades, gazing glumly through the windows of busy offices. He then sits by the ruins of London Wall and calls all twelve restaurants in his
phonebook
to reserve tables under the name Justin Fortesque, telling each one that he’ll be coming in at eight and would like the most expensive bottle of red on the wine list to be opened and allowed to breathe for half an hour before he arrives.

After more aimless wandering, he finds himself outside St Paul’s Cathedral. He tries to go in but is put off by the £13 entry fee which he attempts to avoid by claiming he just wants to pray.

S
ymonds’ Furniture Leasing is based on the second floor of a red brick building with mirrored windows near Wimbledon station. Phil Symonds, a genial, slightly overweight man in his late forties with
greying
hair, greets Craig in reception and takes him up in the lift. Unlike Craig, who’s in a suit and tie, Phil is casually dressed in sand-coloured chinos and a red open-neck shirt.

Initially Craig looks pensive but starts to relax as Phil gives him a brief history of the company - which he set up in 2002 having worked for another leasing firm - and shows him into the roomy office which overlooks a shopping centre.

There are only three other employees - each with their own desk and leather chair - and the business appears very well organised, with no piles of stray folders or loose sheets of paper anywhere. The
computers
, photocopier, and coffee machine are all brand new and a 2008 day planner and a note-covered whiteboard take up most of the back wall. A young man a similar age to Craig gives Phil a friendly nod as he walks in and there are two young women having a conversation in the kitchen area.

Craig waits in the glass-walled meeting room as Phil gets him a
coffee
. He takes a copy of his CV from his bag and places it on the table, then makes sure his mobile is on silent.

‘I was on the phone to your dad again earlier,’ Phil says handing Craig his drink. ‘We’re kitting out an entire office block in Manchester next month and he’s doing all of the transportation for us. I like dealing with your dad, he’s very straightforward. Never promises anything he can’t deliver.’

‘He’s always been like that. He says that if you mess people around they stop trusting you, and if they stop trusting you, you lose their business, so it’s better to just be honest from the start.’

‘Very true,’ Phil says. ‘So Craig, he was saying that you’re looking for a new job at the moment.’

‘Yes.’

‘And before you were working as an estate agent.’

‘Yes, I was a sales negotiator at Cinq Estates. It’s all on my CV, if you look-,’ Craig pushes the page across the table but Phil only takes a brief glance at it before moving it to one side. ‘Thanks, I’ll have a look at that later. There was a programme about them on recently wasn’t there?’

‘Umm, yes. Some BBC reporters went undercover at a couple of branches and exposed some of the tactics they use. The company came out of it very badly apparently.’

‘They were breaking the law a lot of the time weren’t they?’

‘I think so. Some of the things people were encouraged to do were… illegal.’ Craig coughs into his hand.

‘I’m not going to start questioning you about it, don’t worry. I know that’s how some businesses operate and that if you’re working there it’s very difficult because nobody wants to rock the boat. Was it as bad as it was made to look though?’

‘I didn’t actually see the programme, but we were all told to lie if it would help us push through a sale, and to try to steal customers from other agencies. The branch I worked for wasn’t organised enough to do what some of the others were doing.’

‘Like forging documents?’

‘Yes, like that. I never liked lying to the customers and that’s why I didn’t get on with my boss. He would do or say literally anything to make a sale.’

‘Did you have to drive one of those cars with the house on the roof?’ Phil asks, smiling.

‘Everyone had to. It was embarrassing at the start but you soon got used to the funny looks. If you passed a certain sales target you got to drive an unbranded car, so it was meant to motivate you to sell more, but the target was so high that nobody ever achieved it.’

‘So why did you end up staying there as long as you did?’

‘I was looking for other jobs when I was there but the right thing never came up, and also part of me wanted to try to make it work. I didn’t want to go back to my mum and dad’s after a few months, I wanted to prove to everyone that I could do things on my own, and I wanted to stay in London.’

‘Well at least you stuck at it I suppose, and I don’t blame you for wanting to stay down here. When I moved to London from Banbury, where my parents were, I worked for a builder’s merchants in north
London
, which I didn’t enjoy, but it seemed a better option than moving home, and I stayed there for five years in the end. It easily happens.’ Phil has a sip of his coffee. ‘Now Craig, how much has your dad told you about the job?’

‘Not very much.’

‘OK, fine. Basically we’re looking for another account manager because at the moment we’re getting more enquiries and having more requests from our current clients than we can deal with.’

‘OK.’

‘You know what we do, don’t you? I probably should have explained that.’

‘You rent out office furniture.’

‘Yes. Exactly. We own the products and then lease them out to businesses that need desks and chairs and whatever else but don’t want to buy them outright. If you’re a new business, kitting out an office is expensive and with the financial situation not looking too rosy at the moment we’re a far more cost-effective option. And they have the option to buy the stuff at the end of the contract anyway.’

‘Right,’ Craig says, nodding.

‘So what we need is another person to help us deal with the workload.’

‘Right.’

‘Your dad said you did a similar type of job for him?’

‘Yes, I was an account handler there, so I was responsible for a number of our clients and had to make sure they were getting their produce and products delivered on time to the right places. But I’d also deal with the new business as well. So people would ring up saying they need this transported there by Friday and I’d have to agree contracts and prices and everything with them.’

‘Great, because that’s pretty much exactly what I’d want you to do here. The most important thing is to understand precisely what the
client
wants, so that usually means going out and visiting their premises and matching their requirements to their budget, which can be a bit tricky sometimes. But you’ve obviously got plenty of experience about
price negotiation from your estate agent days so that won’t be a problem. So do you think this is something that you’d be happy doing?’

‘Yes, definitely. I’m used to travelling around and meeting people and discussing prices. And I enjoyed the work I was doing for my dad far more than trying to convince people to buy houses.’

‘Excellent. This isn’t a sales role, so you won’t be ringing people
trying
to talk them into buying furniture. The clients come to us.’

‘Good. I don’t particularly enjoy cold-calling people.’

‘Does anyone? You won’t be doing any of that here. Did you have to do that a lot at Cinq?’

‘Yes, and most people just put the phone down.’

Phil chuckles and thinks for a moment. ‘Your dad said you’ve got a business degree, is that right?’

‘Yes. Business and sociology from UEEC in Cambridge.

‘I’m sure that will come in useful along the line. Out of interest, do you know anything about the office furniture market?’

‘Umm, not really…’

‘Oh, it doesn’t matter at all if you don’t; it’s more to help me train you. You’ll pick everything up in no time, it’s just a case of familiarising yourself with the products and the pricing. So when can you start?’

‘When can I start?’ Craig repeats the question as if he’s misheard it.

‘Yes.’

‘Err, Monday?’

‘Good, is everything OK? You look a bit shocked.’

‘Um, yes,’ Craig says, ‘it’s just… Is that the whole interview?’

‘Unless there’s anything else you want to ask me?’

‘Not that I can think of.’

‘Good then. I’m happy if you are. What were you expecting, a
five-hour
interrogation?’

‘I’m not sure what I was expecting. I’m happy though, great.
Actually
I do have a question: What’s the, um, salary?’

‘Oh yes, money. The salary is twenty-eight thousand with a ten per cent bonus as long as we hit our company target. I know that’s probably a bit less than you were on, but you get thirty days’ holiday and you have a pay review once a year. How does that sound?’

‘Excellent, thanks. Really good.’ Craig smiles and all of the tension disappears from his face.

‘We also have a team meal once a month and I think you’ll really like the rest of the team, they’re a friendly bunch.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Good. Well then, Craig.’ Phil stands up, Craig follows, and they shake hands. ‘Let me introduce you to everyone else.’

‘T
urn right out of the station and take the road running up the left-hand side of the green. You’ll pass a pub on your left called The White Horse, walk to the end and my house is facing you. It’s
number
two-one-one and it’s flat three. Ring the bell.’

Amy leaves her BlackBerry on the coffee table, straightens up the throw on the sofa and pours some crisps into a bowl. The living room of her one-bedroom flat is small and cosy with a view of Parsons Green. A framed print of the Paris skyline and a blown-up photograph of Amy and friends at their Durham University graduation ball hang side by side on the wall. She quickly checks herself in the mirror and applies some lip balm.

The entry system buzzes. Amy remotely unlocks the front door and then opens the door to her flat.

Craig apologises for being late and explains that he had to drop into the office on the way over. He’s wearing a yellow scarf and has a brown satchel across his body. Amy kisses him on the cheek and says that she’s only just got back from work anyway. She makes a pot of tea and they go through to the living room.

Amy sits with her legs tucked under her on the sofa whilst Craig plants himself on the matching single-seater.

‘How’s work at the moment?’ he asks.

‘Tiring. I have to get in for seven thirty and this is the first night I’ve left before nine this week. A whole team have just been made redundant and everyone’s nervous about losing their jobs. The woman who used to sit opposite me has been signed off on sick leave because her hair started falling out. I think she must be having some form of breakdown.’

‘So not good then.’

‘The only positive thing I can say about it is that it’s better than being unemployed. I think the problem now is that because the job
market
’s
so terrible, even companies that haven’t been affected that much by the credit crunch are using it as an excuse to get rid of people and work everyone else harder. They know nobody will complain because they can’t afford to. Everyone’s keeping their heads down.’

‘Is what you’re doing now similar to your old job?’

‘There are far less client meetings. The majority of the time I’m looking at data and compiling reports. At MenDax, there was no
monitoring
at all whereas at my new place, you feel like you’re being watched every minute you’re there.’

‘What’s the company called?’

‘Hades Asset Management. The office is by Monument tube. How’s your job going?’

‘Yeah, really good. It’s actually taken me a while to get used to not working at the weekend. Just doing normal hours and getting home at seven, I have so much more free time. And I’m not on commission so I’m not always fretting about not having enough money at the end of the month.’

‘You do look a lot happier. And more relaxed.’

‘Do I? I definitely feel more relaxed. I’m getting a lot more sleep. I’ve only been there ten weeks but it feels a lot longer.’

‘It’s only quite a small firm isn’t it?’

‘There are six of us now, and we’ve got a temp at the moment.’

‘I wish I worked somewhere smaller sometimes… but once you get on the corporate treadmill, it’s hard to get off.’

‘I suppose so.’

Craig takes a handful of crisps. The red light on Amy’s BlackBerry is flashing and she checks her emails.

‘How’s everything going with Hannah?’ she asks.

‘Pretty good, I think. We’re just seeing each other a couple of times a week and taking it all slowly. I don’t want her to feel like I’m pressurising her into anything so I’m just happy to see where things go. Her new job’s going well, so she’s happy.’

‘What’s she doing now?’

‘She’s got a marketing assistant job for the Olympic delivery people.’

‘Wow, that sounds good.’

‘Yeah, it does. It’s what her degree’s in, and she’s sporty so it’s
perfect
really. Although I suppose anything would be a perfect job after
working on the reception at Cinq.’

‘Working on reception was probably the best job there.’

‘I can almost guarantee she got paid more than me.’ Craig pauses. ‘I’m thinking about asking her to go on holiday.’

‘With you?’

‘Yes, with me. What do you think?’

‘Where were you thinking about going?’ Amy asks, adjusting her
sitting
position.

‘I’m not sure. Do you know I haven’t been on holiday in five years?’ Craig says, glancing at the art on the wall. ‘I was thinking about going to New York but it’s pretty expensive and I think I’d rather go to a beach somewhere and just chill rather than sightsee. I might even ask Mark if Hannah isn’t interested.’

‘He needs a job, not a holiday. What’s he been like this week?’

‘Exactly the same. He goes to the gym every morning when I go to work and when I get home he’s either on the internet or playing on the Xbox. He’s lost a lot of weight.’

‘Yes, I know. Is he eating properly?’

‘I think so.’

‘Has he had a shave yet?’

‘Yes, he has. He’s still not got his hair cut though.’

Amy huffs. ‘Well done for getting out of the contract on the flat, by the way. Mark text me yesterday.’

Craig smiles mischievously. ‘It was quite easy in the end. I was expecting a lot of problems but one of the guys I used to work with is still there and he helped me out. He found the original copies of our contract and shredded them. I then emailed him to say that our lease was up, he emailed back to say he couldn’t find our documents and I replied saying that wasn’t our problem and that we were moving out, and that was that. That office was so disorganised by the time my old boss left that the new guy has come to expect this sort of thing apparently so there were no questions asked. I even got our full deposit back.’

‘Don’t people normally get their deposits back?’

‘It’s Cinq policy to never refund the full deposit. Even if the tenants had been perfect, we were always told to keep at least twenty-five per cent. Some agents used to go round to houses and deliberately break tiles and stain carpets so they could blame the occupiers and keep the money.’

‘What bastards.’

‘That’s what happened,’ Craig says with a shrug.

‘When do you move into the new flat?’

‘Two weeks on Friday. I’ve taken a day off work and hired a van. It shouldn’t be too difficult.’

‘Where is it, near Putney Bridge?’

‘Yes, it’s in a block next to the river. It’s a lot smaller than Clapham, less than half the size probably, but it’s all modern inside and it’s got a balcony. Mark won’t be able to spread his mess everywhere.’

‘Mark said your boss owns it.’

‘He asked me if I had any friends who were looking for somewhere because his tenants were moving so I said that we’d take it. He’s given us a good deal on the rent - it’s just about half of what we’re paying at the moment - and I think it’s a better area. I took Mark to see it last week and we had a couple of beers by the river afterwards. It all seemed a bit more chilled than Clapham.’

‘Do you think you’ll miss Clapham?’

‘No.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘I’m not sure really. It was fun to start with, and I’d probably go back there for a night out, but it’s overpriced for what it is and although the common’s nice when it’s sunny, it’s not that great a place to live. It always feels crowded and there are a lot of posers.’

‘It’s the type of place you shouldn’t stay for too long. You can move there straight after university and then suddenly ten years later you’re still living like a student. I could have seen Mark falling into that trap.’

‘I don’t know, I think he would have got bored of it eventually. I can understand why people do it, but it’s just not for me. I prefer somewhere a bit… quieter.’

‘Like Norwich?’

‘No, not Norwich; that’s the Las Vegas of East Anglia.’

 ‘At least it shows he’s got a vivid imagination,’ Amy says. They’ve
finished
their takeaway pizza and are now sitting together on the sofa in front of Craig’s laptop which is perched on the edge of the coffee table.

‘Apart from his name and date of birth, he’s not written a single thing which isn’t either made up or a big exaggeration.’

They are reading Mark’s CV, which Craig emailed himself from Mark’s MacBook.

‘Are you sure this is the most recent copy?’ Amy asks. ‘This can’t be what he’s been sending people.’

‘I found this hidden away in a folder in his documents; he hadn’t left it on his screen for me to see. There was only one other CV but that was from a couple of years ago.’

‘I thought there at least might be some parts of this we could use, but we’re going to have to start from scratch. Make up a new document,’ Amy tells Craig. ‘We can keep the format.’

Craig copies the CV and deletes everything apart from the contact information and section headings.

‘The profile just makes him sound like an idiot.’ Amy reads,
‘Mark Hunter is a fearless financier and entrepreneur. He acts as a consultant to no less than six FTSE 100 companies (unnamed for legal reasons) and has business interests that are predicted to have a turnover of £50m by 2020. He has won a host of awards including ‘City A.M. Fund Manager of the Year 2007 (under-30 category)’ and was described in the comments section of an article on the Financial Times website as ‘one of the sharpest young brains in Britain’. International business leaders consider this an accurate assessment of his abilities.’

Craig is laughing.

‘It’s so stupid it makes me feel sad,’ Amy says. ‘I hope for his sake he’s never actually sent this to anyone.’

‘It’s just so obvious that it’s all bollocks. But it’s not like he’s never had a job or doesn’t have any qualifications.’

‘No, according to this he got a 2.1 in economics from King’s College, Cambridge and an MBA from the University of California.’

Craig chuckles. ‘You know we said he’d lied about everything apart from his name and date of birth, he
has
lied about his date of birth. He’s made himself a year older. He was born in 1982, not 1981.’

‘For goodness sake. Change it then. I suppose otherwise the dates wouldn’t add up, although it wouldn’t surprise me if he claimed to have taken his A-levels when he was seventeen.’

Craig scans down the document. ‘Yep, we need to move all his
education
forward a year.’

They are still working on Mark’s CV at half past midnight. Amy makes notes on a pad and dictates sentences to Craig. They decide to award Mark a 2.1 from UEEC, a grade higher than he got, which Craig is uneasy about but Amy insists they should put ethics to one side for the moment and reasons that he’ll be competing against people with lies on their CVs and that nobody ever checks degree certificates anyway. Craig agrees this is probably true.

Neither of them can think of a term to describe Mark’s current work situation. Craig suggests it could say Mark’s been travelling but Amy dismisses this as a lie that could easily trip him up in an interview. They settle on calling him a ‘Freelance Financial Analyst’ and Amy says she’ll be one of his referees and will say that Mark’s been working for her if it comes to that.

‘What
are
Mark’s interests?’ Craig says, placing the cursor below the only heading with nothing written beneath it.

‘The gym, I suppose is one now.’

‘We can’t really put drinking and playing on the Xbox. He reads all those business autobiographies, so we can put that.’

‘And I suppose he likes sport as well.’

‘Most of the things he liked at university he seems to have lost
interest
in. He used to go and see bands and I think he played rugby and tennis when he was at school, but he doesn’t do any of that any more.’

‘I’ve been trying to encourage him to take up some hobbies to keep his mind active. I’m worried that all he does is sit at home all day making himself depressed.’

‘I think he feels like he was doing so well and that it’s so unfair that it’s all been taken away from him.’

Amy shrugs. ‘He feels foolish because I warned him time and time again about getting too close to Justin. Justin and Julia and Ian weren’t his friends; they didn’t care about him and they didn’t care about MenDax, but he wouldn’t listen. Also, Mark wasn’t doing that well. He always wanted to believe that a massive pay day or promotion was just around the corner, whereas in reality it never was. The whole company was a complete sham by the end and relied on people like Mark who never questioned what was happening.

‘I wasn’t blameless either and I never expected things to end as
suddenly
as they did but it taught me to be careful. If you work for a big
corporate and you have any loyalty to them
at all
, then you’re deluded, because they will get rid of you without giving it a second thought. That was the problem with Mark; he actually thought that Justin and the other bosses at MenDax had his best interests at heart. All they were doing was making as much money for themselves as possible. Once the money stopped coming in, people like me and Mark were dispensable. It sounds harsh but it’s true. Do you think that the MenDax board - the people who were taking millions and millions out of the company year after year - gave a shit about people like me?’ Amy shrugs. ‘Sorry, I should stop going on about it.’

‘It’s OK.’

‘That’s why I want to help Mark. I’m not going to watch him go into a downward spiral whilst a lot of the people who were responsible for MenDax going bust carry on as normal.’

Craig types in some of Mark’s interests and Amy tells him that a couple of lines is enough. He adds himself and Amy as referees and says that he’ll pretend to have worked with Mark at MenDax if anyone calls him. He asks Amy to email him with a few lines about MenDax so he’ll be able to lie competently if required.

She says she’ll send his details to the recruitment agencies she used when she was job hunting and asks Craig to set up a new Mark Hunter LinkedIn profile, and, if possible, find out his password and delete the current one.

Craig runs a spellcheck and emails the document to Amy. By the time he shuts his laptop, it’s twenty past one.