Page 2 of Merry & Bright
I wanted in on that Singapore job. For one thing, I wanted the billable hours. I prided myself on my utilisation rate, which had made me one of the top-performing junior directors in the UK this year. If I could persuade Phil to use me, I’d avoid the inevitable couple of weeks of post-project downtime and keep those figures up—with Christmas coming up, there was a good chance Phil would end up under-resourced. More important than the billable hours, though, was my five-year plan. I planned a lateral move to the London office this year, and Phil’s team was my top target.
“What?” Freddy’s voice distracted me from my thoughts and when I glanced at her it was to find her staring at me as if she thought I’d gone mad. “Why on earth do you want to go straight onto another project? Even you must need a break sometimes, and it’sChristmas, for God’s sake. Let this Phil guy sort out his own project.”
I sent her a patronising look. “One of the best things about my job is that I get to travel all over the world. And I’ve never been to Singapore.”
Freddy looked distinctly unimpressed. “Oh come on, it’s not like you’ll get to see Singapore. Even if you get the chance to go over, you’ll just end up sticking your stuff in a hotel room then working twenty-four seven till you drop from exhaustion before hauling your arse back to England.”
For a moment, I felt deflated—she was probably right after all. But then I reminded myself that visiting Singapore wasn’t the point. It was just what I told people when they wondered why I was offering myself up for more work, and at Christmas too. The truth was, it didn’t matter whether I was put on the team that flew out to the client’s HQ or whether I was stuck at my desk in Manchester as part of the remote office function. I wanted two things out of this: a good timesheet and to impress Phil. That was all that mattered.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” I said at last. “You might not be ambitious butIwant to get somewhere in life.”
That annoyed her. I could see it in the curl of her lip and the way her gaze suddenly narrowed.
“Oh yeah? And where is it you want to get to? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re in danger of disappearing up your own arse.”
My irritation flared at that. “Yeah, well, by the look of you, you’ve already disappeared up yours,” I shot back spitefully.
And just like that Freddy burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she fell back against the cushions on the sofa in surrender, tears running from her eyes and painting her cheeks with lines of watery black. Eventually, I laughed too, somewhat reluctantly, infected by her helpless, generous mirth.
“You’resucha bitch, Quinz,” she gasped after a while, between giggles. “I totally love you.”
Our eyes met then, and, despite my anger, I felt a sudden surge of affection. “Love you too, Fred,” I said lightly.
She wiped her eyes, smearing her black tears away and gave me a speculative look. “Well, that’s not something I hear often—would this be a good time to ask a favour?”
“Okay,” I said. “How much do you need?”
“I wasn’t going to ask for money!” She looked insulted.
“What then?” I asked.
“I want you to come out with me tonight. The whole gang’s going to be there.”
I sighed heavily. “I’ve already said I’ll come if I can. You’re going to be in Space, aren’t you?”
“I don’t mean you turning up for the last hour at the club when almost everyone’s gone home. Come for the whole thing—we’re meeting in The Dragon at six, then going to that new gourmet burger place for dinner. Then we’ll pub crawl our way up to Space. It’ll be awesome. Come on, Quin. It’ll be just like old times. Ben’s coming too.”
“Oh well, if myexis going to be there, then I’ll be sure to make it.” I rolled my eyes to emphasise the absurdity of this.
I expected her to get pissed off at that, but instead of looking angry, she looked suddenly sad. “You told me that you and Ben would always be friends. You said that you two breaking up wouldn’t change our group. But it has. You’ve only been in the same room twice since the breakup.” She paused. “It’s been almost two years now.”
I looked away. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
When the silence stretched, I sighed. “Look, I’ll text you when I’m done at work. I promise.”
Silence greeted that grudging concession and when I glanced at Freddy she still looked sad. And now disappointed too.
“Okay,” she said at last, and I knew she didn’t believe me.
I couldn’t leave the flat quick enough after that. I left my mug of tea to go cold in the sink and headed out, slipping my headphones over my head on the way out the door. I could walk to the office in about half an hour but the route was uninspiringly urban, so I tended to occupy myself with audiobooks. Today’s was a title about leadership in business:Finding Your Authentic Inner CEO.
The headphones doubled as ear defenders, keeping out both the chilly December air and the annoying strains of Christmas music leaking out of shops and cafes. I couldn’t wait for the end of the festive season.
Roll on January and sanity.
When I reached Sterling House, the tall gleaming edifice that housed not only Quick & Blacks but two law firms and an accountancy practice, I flashed my identity badge at the entry system on the front door. The red eye-level light flashed green, releasing the locked revolving door for my entry and I pushed my way inside, keeping my headphones on, even though I’d switched off the book.
The security guard at the desk—the same guy who was there every other day—was wearing a Santa hat. He was friendly, this one. Always tried to talk to me.