Page 2

Jessica waited as Rich took a seat and got settled in the private meeting space in her personal office. Her cubby-hole. They usually met here first thing every Monday morning to get organised for the week ahead but today was different. She had something big to tell him. She needed to convince him of the new direction she wanted to take the company. The final decision wasn’t his, of course, it was hers. She’d started the company from scratch and was the sole owner. But she wanted Rich’s full support. As the managing director, he was integral to the company and, more importantly, her closest and most trusted friend.

“How are you feeling about taking home the big prize?” Rich said, legs crossed, eyeing her closely. “What a way to start the year.”

“I think it was an excellent achievement. It shows the institute is interested in pushing the boundaries, artistically speaking, which is good. They chose well.” She did believe that. But the truth was a little deeper. She wasn’t as satisfied with the win as she thought she was going to be. The joy of designing and building another pretty building had worn off. Yes, it was a new and permanent fixture of the London skyline and the legacy of it would be huge, but still, there was something missing for her.

“Of course you see it like that. I think you’re one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. Have I ever told you that?”

Jessica raised an eyebrow. He knew she wasn’t keen on talking about feelings and personal stuff at work. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Rich typed something on his phone, apparently having moved on already.

Jessica folded her arms and looked out the window at the busy street. There was a traffic jam on one side. A delivery cyclist weaved in and out of the cars. She liked standing by this window and watching the world outside. It helped her think. “There’s something I want to tell you.” Jessica faced him. “I want to help improve lives, not just design artistic buildings that look nice but don’t add anything of substance to this world. And that means focusing on projects that will require us to push the boundaries and make an impact. I want us to make a difference. I want to make a difference.”

“Don’t we improve lives already?”

“Not enough.”

“The Roses wasn’t enough? Or the new college campus we just built?”

“The college campus was good. But any architecture firm could have done that or even The Roses. We just delivered them to a higher standard than the rest because we have the best people, and we’ve invested in them.”

“You personally worked on The Roses, and you just won the top award for it.”

“True. And I want to work closer on projects from now on. I’ve become too distant from the work. From the stuff that I enjoy. The Roses reminded me of that. So, I’m going to pick a project and work as principal architect.”

“Hmm.”

She knew this made him nervous, but he had to trust her. “We’ve got too commercial, Rich. While that’s been working well for us in establishing ourselves and turning a profit, we’ve lost sight of why we set up in the first place. I’m losing sight of it. Building pointless buildings was one of the reasons I left my old firm. We have the talent here to make an impact out there, now that we’re fully established. On a personal level,” she heard herself say. Making business decisions based on her feelings wasn’t something she did, but it was a factor here. “I want to get back to my roots and work on more landscape and urban projects. I need it.”

There was a long silence as Rich absorbed her statement. She knew he knew that once she was like this, there would be little he could do to change her mind. And he couldn’t.

His brow furrowed, the skin between his eyes creasing in concern. “We’ve just won the most prestigious award in the field. We will have our pick of the most lucrative projects available. Landscape and urban don’t make much money. They’re small and usually government funded. I do want us to grow, and yes, I want us to capitalise financially on this win. There’s nothing wrong with that. Forgive me for being so blunt, but we can do better. Now is not the time to start following passion projects.”

Rich was always focused on the bottom line. She loved him for it. But she’d be damned if she was going to continue putting all their efforts into projects that were vanity-based or highly gatekept through privilege.

“We’re in an excellent financial position. I’m happy to continue to commit to a proportion of commercial projects, perhaps as much as half of our ongoing workstream, and to honour all our existing projects to completion. Perhaps we take on one substantial commercial project to capitalise on the RIBA wins. But I do want us to also begin moving in this new direction. I want this to be our new strategy. I think it could lead to new things, new projects, new clients. All we need to do is keep an open mind. That’s what we’re supposed to do, right, as architects? We think creatively. Well, this is me thinking creatively. We need to diversify, Rich. It’s that simple.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “I can’t argue with that.” He smiled, kindly. “If this is what you want to do, I’m in.”

Jessica finally took a deep breath. He usually supported her ideas, in the end. No matter how ambitious or unusual. It meant a lot. “Thank you.”

“I’ll run some numbers, if you don’t mind? Give you an idea of the minimum level of income we’ll need now that we’re going to be slumming it.”

“Pivoting, Rich. There’s a difference.”

“When do you want to tell people?”

The company employed over one hundred people. Sometimes she couldn’t believe what she’d achieved in such a short space of time. If someone had told her ten years ago that her going off on her own and setting up her own company would one day result in it becoming arguably one of the best architecture companies in the UK, she would never have believed them. But they’d grown steadily, off the success of some high-revenue, high-profile designs and builds she’d delivered over the years, particularly in the beginning. “Let’s let the dust settle with the RIBA wins first. Let people enjoy the glory. Then we can start letting people know.”

“Would you like me to look around for these new projects? I could put out a few feelers?”

“Not yet, thanks. I want to tell senior leadership and then hold an all staff meeting first. I’ll start searching for projects myself. I’ll make a list and write up my thoughts. I’d like us to have a strategy in place for when we pitch it to everyone.”

“Sounds good.”

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“We won’t be taking on any more people until we establish what this means for the company, numbers wise.”

“You’re not thinking of letting people go, are you?”

“No, and I hope we won’t have to. Like I said, pivoting like this could lead to even more work. But let’s be cautious for now.”

Rich rubbed his chin in that worried way he did. “There’s never a dull moment around here, that’s for sure.”

Jessica looked back out at the street again. The traffic jam had lifted.

“Are you coming out for lunch? A few of us were going to try that new Mexican place around the corner.”

Jessica sat down at her desk. “No, thank you. I’m going to catch up on a few things here.”

Rich stood and picked up his laptop. He looked good in his waistcoat and tie. “Remember to eat something.”

“You sound like Marco. Always nagging me.”

“Well, he is my husband, so it’s bound to rub off on me.”

“Have a nice lunch.”

Rich left her office as she logged into her laptop, excited about where this could lead.

***

A week later, Jessica was spending yet another cold January lunch break keeping warm in her office searching for different work for her company to start picking up. One of the reasons Jessica had been so successful so quickly in her career was that she was willing to roll her sleeves up and get stuck in. And she loved scrapping around for work. She’d missed the thrill of it. High-profile projects had been coming to them in the past few years. People wanted JF Architecture based on reputation alone at this point. Delegating so much of the work meant she was too far removed. And it was bothering her more and more. So, she scoured the listings of all the local authorities in the UK, marking various projects that sounded interesting: redeveloping a town square in an old market town, traffic-calming a busy residential junction and restoring some old Victorian baths as a public swimming pool. All of them excited her and only confirmed that she was doing the right thing. There were only so many artistic buildings that made little meaningful difference that she could design in her life.

The last local authority she searched was the one she grew up in. She’d left it to last because, well, it reminded her of her childhood. She hadn’t been back in about twenty years.

She blinked at the screen as the listing stared back at her. The old shipyards in her hometown. The local authority wanted to redevelop the post-industrial waterfront into a multi-purpose greenspace while preserving the heritage of the area. It was currently languishing as an unused concrete eyesore, open to vandals and fly tipping. The build was to be centred around the creation of a park for the benefit of the local residents. It would be a space to help improve the health and wellbeing of the largely working-class and socially deprived area. They even mentioned the potential of building a bridge over the river in future, and bridges were high-value projects. Rich would be happy about that.

She read and re-read the brief. The redevelopment was long overdue, and she knew the specific area well. They used to sneak in as children and cycle along the waterfront among the broken glass. The only reason they stopped going was because everyone kept getting punctures. When it got marked as a site for redevelopment over thirty years ago, everyone in the town was excited. She remembered it well.

But it appeared nothing had been done in all that time. What a waste of an excellent large space. It was spread over ten acres and had spectacular views across the river and towards the hills. That it hadn’t been deemed worth spending money on was like a kick in the stomach. Growing up in a poor area had a way of making you feel like you weren’t worth shit, although Jessica hadn’t felt that way in years. The very echo of that feeling made her want to make sure the people who still lived there would never have to feel that way again – at least when it came to this space and the proud history of their town. The town hadn’t necessarily been good to her; it wasn’t an easy place to grow up in, and she never felt like she fitted in. But the idea of giving back and making it a better place to live for anyone who ever felt like her, suddenly felt important. With a new government in place, willing to spend money on public infrastructure like this, now was the time for Jessica to put her skills to good use. The project was exactly what she was looking for. It needed to be done, and her company was one hundred percent right for the job. It couldn’t be more perfect.

She cleared her diary for the rest of the day and put in an application that night.

***

Breathing heavily, Jessica set the handle back in its place after completing her five-kilometre early morning row. Walking through her house to get some water from the kitchen, high on endorphins, she was grateful to live in such an amazing place. Her house was one of her true joys in life. She’d bought a small office building and converted it into a beautiful space to live in, complete with a large open plan living area, feature spiral staircase and her own gym and office. Some days, she wanted to hole up in her cocoon and not speak to anyone, grateful for the freedom that being single brought her.

While stretching her calves in the kitchen she checked her work emails. Weeks and weeks had passed without a single word from her application to redevelop her hometown waterfront apart from the confirmation of receipt of the application. A generic email. Local government timelines would be something she’d have to get used to if dipping her toes in this type of water.

But she stopped scrolling immediately when she saw the email. She’d won the contract. Her heart skipped a beat. Excitement prickled at the back of her neck and mixed with a fear in the pit of her stomach. Fuck, she hadn’t felt this way in ages, which was an excellent sign she was on the right path.

In the office, Rich referred to it as her passion project when Jessica told him the big news. But she didn’t want this to be seen as a personal project. Rich was one of the few people in her life who knew anything about her background, and even then, she hadn’t told him much. “It’s not my passion project. And please don’t tell anyone about my connection to it.”

Rich watched her closely but didn’t push her on it. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Thanks.”

“The best architecture company in the country pitches to work on a small-town post-industrial redevelopment and it takes them weeks to say yes? They have a nerve making us wait that long, especially with their ridiculously short project deadline.”

“That’s local authorities for you.”

“When do you have to decide by?”

“By the end of the week.”

“Seriously?”

She needed to visit in person in order to make the final decision on whether to accept the contract. Taking on this project in her hometown, at such a historic site was no small thing. If she took it, she’d be doing so without anyone in her family in the area knowing about it because that was how she wanted it. But it would be flying perilously close to things she didn’t want to dig up again. “I’m going to visit the site tomorrow. I’ve cleared my schedule.”

Rich’s eyes widened. “You’re going to miss the Shanghai meeting? They want you and only you. If you do take this passion project and work as principal, it will mean saying no to a significantly higher-value contract with them.”

“I understand the stakes, Rich. Visiting the site will help me assess the build and decide if it’s genuinely viable for us or not. I’ll let you know.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, thanks. I’d prefer to go alone.”

“Of course you would.” Rich sighed.

Doing things alone came more naturally to her. Always had done. “I’m sorry this is moving so fast. I think this project could be very good for us.” She softened her face. “For me.”

“Okay,” he sighed again, but this time he seemed less pissed off. “Since you’re clearly having some sort of midlife crisis. I demand you to keep me posted, though.”

The next day, she pushed open the boarded-up gate and walked onto the site, accessible even though it was supposed to be off-limits. If her company took on the project, she would get that sorted out straight away. She gave a thumbs up to Des, her driver, who was standing outside the parked black four-by-four. They had driven for hours to get here. Sitting in a car with Des in comfortable silence was like a refuge. He was great because he never asked awkward questions or pressurised her to make small talk. And he never commented on her many phone calls to clients and colleagues. He was an ex-army officer and boxer. He loved baking. He always had a Tupperware full of shortbread in the car, which he would generously share.

The site was once a shipbuilding yard, a real powerhouse of British manufacturing, here on this very river. The whole town was originally based around this site and the employment it offered. Thousands of people worked here: platers, welders, pipe fitters, the lot. Houses were built to home the workforce. Her own grandparents moved here for that very reason. All that remained were a number of unused red brick industrial buildings, a cracked slipway and a huge rusty-looking crane. The space had very much fallen into disrepair. Jessica frowned. There was zero information about the history of the site. It was like that whole generation was completely lost. It wasn’t right.

She thought of her grandparents and how hard they had worked: her grandfather as a welder and her grandmother in the sewing factory further down the water. If they saw this derelict wasteland, they would turn in their graves.

With her parents being so useless, her grandparents practically brought her up. Of them and their home, her lasting memories were of how warm it felt, physically and emotionally, and how they liked to cook together, soups and pies and cakes, as old records played. Her grandmother would sing her to sleep at night. Jessica’s own mother was never one to do a bed-time routine. She loved these memories of her grandparents. They were some of the best moments in her whole childhood. She missed her grandparents so much.

She closed her eyes and took a breath. Even the air here felt better. But there was no point in living in the past. It was important to keep looking forward. That had always been one of her key mantras in life. Onwards and upwards. But what she could do was honour the past and honour her grandparents. It would be a tribute to all of the people who spent their lives toiling away in the terrible conditions back then and living in the overcrowded town while building ships for Britain, by making this place something for the current town to be proud of.

But there was one problem. Her dad. She hadn’t spoken to him in years. Twenty years, was it? The thought itself made her incredibly sad. There were times when she was little when he was her favourite thing in the whole world. She used to run down the garden path to greet him when he got home. He would throw her five-year-old self in the air and catch her while she giggled. He would bring home junk food, encourage her to dream big and to never play by the rules. She’d enjoyed the junk food, and she’d dreamed big, but she went on to live her life playing within the rules. She missed him even though she was angry with him for turning out to be such a shit dad. Her main long-standing grievance was that she felt abandoned by him. His arrogant, lying and manipulative personality didn’t help either.

She turned to face the town, sloping up the hill away from the river. It had been so long since she’d seen it. It was pretty, with its clock towers, church spires, and rolling hills, which did just enough to offset the array of ugly buildings thrown up after the war. She’d forgotten how much character it had.

She clenched her jaw, clarity replacing her overly sentimental and reminiscent thoughts. Her eyes glazed over but she pushed that ridiculousness away. There was no way she was going to let herself get emotional.

All she knew was that she wanted to honour the past and her grandparents. Creating something that would benefit the health and wellbeing of the next generation felt like exactly what she should do with her amalgamated skills and experiences. Because lately, everything she worked on felt empty and meaningless. She wouldn’t need to see or speak to anyone in the town to get the project done, nor tell them that she had any involvement in it.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and took in the 150-foot crane, with its cracking blue paint, that spoke of an era long gone. The crane and the past were pulling her closer to a concept as she walked back to the car. She could make the crane into a tourist attraction, with a little sprucing up here and there. The idea made her heart swell with a kind of pure happiness she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

The site had potential, and it was a viable project for her company. Putting her phone on speaker, she waited for Rich to pick up as she exited the site.

Des got out of the car and held the door open for her as she got closer. He was such a steady presence in her life.

“Hey, how’s it going up there?” Rich’s cultured voice boomed out from her sleek black device. “What’s the verdict?”

“We’re doing it.”