When She Was Bad(11)

‘I wasn’t in charge.’ As soon as she’d said it, she felt guilty. Gill was her friend. She ought to be defending her, rather than letting Rachel Masters slag her off behind her back. The woman had been here two and a bit days, and she already thought she could judge someone who’d done the job for eight years?

‘Did you at least try to get changes introduced? Or are you the kind of deputy who just goes along with what the boss says, regardless?’

A lump was forming in Paula’s throat. Yet she was fifty-five years old. She had been working in recruitment when Rachel Masters was still at school. How many times had Gill told her over the years how lucky she was to have such a capable right-hand woman? She ought to be able to just calmly explain that they’d all done their best in some very trying circumstances, particularly these last months. But at the same time, if Gill was going to be made a scapegoat, the last thing Paula wanted was to be lumped in with her.

‘I didn’t always agree with Gill. In fact, a few times I did try to get her to institute some changes, but . . . well . . . ultimately she had the final word.’

It was kind of true. Over the years Paula had come up with some suggestions for how to improve the running of the department, and Gill hadn’t always taken them on board.

‘I’ll look forward to hearing some of those ideas in due course,’ said Rachel. ‘I’d also like you to be thinking about a list – in confidence, of course – of which members of staff you consider to be working efficiently and which are dead wood.’

‘Dead wood?’

‘That’s right. I’m sure you have a few candidates in mind. Now, can you please send in Ewan Johnson to see me.’

Paula stood up, her unsaid words sitting like small stones on her tongue. She should stand up for Gill, she should refuse to inform on members of her team. Rachel needed to know that her divide and rule style of management would not work here.

‘I’ll go and get him.’





8

Ewan



Ewan swallowed hard. It wasn’t like him to be nervous, but then again he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a reaction to a woman like the one he’d had to Rachel Masters. For the last three days his eyes had followed her around the office like an unwanted dog. It wasn’t that she was particularly beautiful. She was attractive, but no more so than loads of other women he knew. But it was as though she’d entered his head by a secret door and now he couldn’t work out how to get her out again.

‘You all right?’ he asked, sitting down with his legs slightly spread and forcing himself to hold her gaze.

‘I’m fine, thank you, Ewan.’

Was she smiling? It was hard to say with her.

‘So, tell me a bit about yourself.’

He normally loved talking about himself. If he was ever on Mastermind he would be his own specialist subject, that’s what his flatmates said. Yet now he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

‘Well, I . . . I’m from Coventry originally – or as we locals like to say, “fookin’ Cov”.’ He glanced at her to see how his joke had gone down, but her face was a polite mask, giving nothing away. ‘I was accepted by Manchester Uni but ended up staying in Cov. I’d had enough of classrooms by then, wanted to see a bit of life.’ It seemed important for her to know that he’d had choices. He’d chosen to stay at home rather than go to uni.

‘Got my first job in sales – a call centre, actually. Within six months I was top of the leader board for closing cold-call sales. My boss said I could have gone all the way, but I’m more of a people person. I wanted a job with more one-to-one contact.’

The phrase had come out perfectly innocently. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but now he could feel himself blushing. Underneath the table he stretched out his left leg in a movement that had become so automatic he no longer knew if it was caused by stiffness or habit.

Rachel was leaning back in her chair, making notes in a black moleskin notebook that he knew for a fact hadn’t come from the stationery cupboard. She’d put on a pair of stern, black-framed glasses which made her pale-blue eyes look huge. He wondered how old she was. He’d always preferred older women. They didn’t play so many games. He’d never been much good at reading between the lines.

‘You’ve been IT Consultant for just under a year. Are you satisfied with that role?’

Ewan kept his smile glued on and his eyes on hers, even though under the desk he was digging the pointy end of his pen lid deep into his thigh.

‘Er, obviously I’ve already got my sights set on the Senior Consultant title, but I know I shouldn’t try to run before I can walk.’