Extract 5

The next day, Connor is off to a meeting first thing, but before he goes he digs out an old magazine article about Jack Harper.

“Read this,” he says, through a mouthful of toast. “It’s good background information.”

I don’t want any background information! I feel like retorting, but Connor’s already out of the door.

I’m tempted to leave it behind and not even bother looking at it, but it’s quite a long journey from Connor’s place to work, and I haven't got any magazines with me. So I take the article with me, and grudgingly start reading it on the tube, and I suppose it is quite an interesting story. How Harper and Pete Laidler were friends, and they decided to go into business, and Jack was the creative one and Pete was the extrovert playboy one, and they became multimillionaires together, and they were so close they were practically like brothers. And then Pete was killed in a car crash. And Jack was so devastated he shut himself away from the world and said he was giving it all up.

And of course now I read all this I’m starting to feel a bit stupid. I should have recognized Jack Harper. I mean, I certainly recognize Pete Laidler. For one thing he looks – looked – just like Robert Redford. And for another, he was all over the papers when he died. I can remember it vividly now, even though I had nothing to do with the Panther Corporation then.

***

“Now everyone!” Paul comes striding up behind him. “Mr Harper is going to be sitting in on the department this morning.”

“Please.” Jack Harper smiles. “Call me Jack.”

“Right you are. Jack is going to be sitting in this morning. He’s going to observe what you do, find out how we operate as a team. Just behave normally, don’t do anything special.”

“Just ignore me,” says Jack Harper pleasantly, as he sits down in the corner. “Behave normally.”

Behave normally. Right. Of course.

So that would be sit down, take my shoes off, check my emails, put some hand cream on, eat a few Smarties, read my horoscope on iVillage, read Connor’s horoscope, write ‘Emma Corrigan, Managing Director’ several times in swirly letters on my notepad, add a border of flowers, send an email to Connor, wait a few minutes to see if he replies, take a swig of mineral water and then finally get round to finding the Tesco leaflet for Artemis.

I don’t think so.

***

“It’s very quiet in here,” says Jack Harper, sounding puzzled. “Is it normally this quiet?”

“Er…” We all look around uncertainly at each other.

“Please, don’t mind me. Talk away like you normally would. You must have office discussions.” He gives a friendly smile. “When I worked in an office, we talked about everything under the sun. Politics, books… For instance, what have you all been reading recently?”

“Actually, I’ve been reading the new biography of Mao Tse Tung,” says Artemis at once.

“I’m in the middle of a history of fourteenth-century Europe,” says Nick.

“I’m just re-reading Proust,” says Caroline, with a modest shrug. “In the original French.”

“Ah.” Jack Harper nods, his face unreadable. “And… Emma, is it? What are you reading?”

‘Um, actually…’ I swallow, playing for time.

I cannot say Celebrity Doodles – What Do They Mean? Even though it is actually very good.

Quick. What’s a serious book?

“You were reading Great Expectations, weren’t you, Emma?” says Artemis. “For your book club.”

“Yes!” I say in relief. “Yes, that’s right–”

And then I stop abruptly as I meet Jack Harper’s gaze.

Inside my head, my own voice from the plane is babbling away innocently.

“…just skimmed the back cover and pretended I’d read it…”

“Great Expectations,” says Jack Harper thoughtfully. “What did you think of it, Emma?”

I don’t believe he asked me that.

For a few moments I can’t speak.

“Well!” I clear my throat at last. “I thought it… it was really… extremely…”

“It’s a wonderful book,” says Artemis earnestly. “Once you fully understand the symbolism.”

Shut up, you stupid show-off. Oh God. What am I going to say?

“I thought it really… resonated,” I say at last.

“What resonated?” says Nick.

“The… um…” I clear my throat. “The resonances.”

There’s a puzzled silence.

“The resonances… resonated?” says Artemis.

“Yes,” I say defiantly. “They did. Anyway, I’ve got to get on with my work.” I turn away with a roll of my eyes and start typing feverishly.

OK. So the book discussion didn’t go that well. But that was just sheer bad luck. Think positive. I can still do this. I can still impress him–

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with it!” Artemis is saying in a girly voice. “I water it every day.”

She pokes her spider plant and gazes at Jack Harper winsomely. “Do you know anything about plants, Jack?”

“I don’t, I’m afraid,” says Jack, and looks over at me, his face deadpan. “What do you think could be wrong with it, Emma?”

“…sometimes, when I’m pissed off with Artemis…”

“I… I have no idea,” I say at last, and carry on typing, my face flaming.

OK. Never mind. It doesn’t matter. So I watered one little plant with orange juice. So what?

“Has anyone seen my World Cup mug?” says Paul, walking into the office with a frown. “I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

“…I broke my boss’s mug last week and hid the pieces in my handbag …”

OK. Never mind. So I broke one tiny mug, too. It doesn’t matter. Just keep typing.

“Hey Jack,” says Nick, in a matey, lads-together voice. “Just in case you don’t think we have any fun, look up there!” He nods towards the picture of a photocopied, G-stringed bottom which has been up on the noticeboard since Christmas. “We still don’t know who it is…”

“…I had a few too many drinks at the last Christmas party …”

OK, now I want to die. Someone please kill me.

“Hi, Emma!” comes Katie’s voice, and I look up to see her hurrying into the office, her face pink with excitement. When she sees Jack Harper, she stops dead. “Oh!”

“It’s all right. I’m simply a fly on the wall.” He waves a friendly hand at her. “Go ahead. Say whatever you were going to say.”

“Hi Katie!” I manage. “What is it?”

As soon as I say her name, Jack Harper looks up again, a riveted expression on his face. I do not like the look of that riveted expression.

What did I tell him about Katie? What? My mind spools furiously back. What did I say? What did I–

I feel an internal lurch. Oh God.

“…we have this secret code where she comes in and says, ‘Can I go through some numbers with you, Emma?’ and it really means ‘Shall we nip out to Starbucks…’”

I told him our skiving code.

I stare desperately at Katie’s eager face, trying somehow to convey the message to her.

Do not say it. Do not say you want to go over some numbers with me.

But she’s completely oblivious.

“I just… erm…” She clears her throat in a businesslike way and glances self-consciously at Jack Harper. “Could I possibly go over some numbers with you, Emma?”