If he looked closely into the blade he could see that other Charlie’s eyes glinting back at him.
39
Rachel
It was rubbish. They all knew it and she knew it. Nevertheless, as she talked about creating the tightest possible team, about how thrilled she’d been to recognize the potential of the staff she’d inherited, Rachel glanced around, trying to gauge how what she was saying was going down. The biggest imperative now was to calm everyone down and get them working properly again, and then gradually she could once again try to shave off the weaker members. She couldn’t get rid of Sarah, but she could start taking away her responsibilities. Then, by the time her leave started, she’d find she was doing a different job, and in the staff reshuffle Rachel was planning, Sarah would be given a different job title too – more junior to the one she had now – with a salary drop to match. Chances were she’d decide it wasn’t worth coming back – not with the costs of childcare.
Chloe would doubtless apply for Sarah’s old job, which would probably need to be retitled in order to get around HR regulations. It was a natural progression for the girl, and with any luck when she didn’t get it, she’d start applying elsewhere. Instead, Rachel had decided to give Sarah’s position to Paula. It would be an ignominious step down, and maybe that would help her decide that voluntary redundancy wasn’t so bad, after all. But all that was in the future. Now Rachel had to start building some bridges. If only there wasn’t such a sense of resistance. Hostility hung over the table like a bad smell.
‘Forgive us if we’re not exactly jumping for joy to hear all this,’ said Amira. ‘I think we all feel . . .’ Then she tailed off, and Rachel had a sudden moment of clarity, realizing that Amira was regretting her presumption that she could speak for the others. They were not a united group, linked in opposition to her. They were not a group at all. The insight comforted her.
‘Well, I feel,’ Amira corrected herself, ‘that since the moment you arrived, Rachel, you’ve tried to set us against each other so that you could implement whatever changes you wanted without fear of opposition. You’ve deliberately and systematically cultivated favourites and pets among the staff.’ She didn’t look at Ewan. She didn’t have to. ‘And done everything you could to undermine the ones who, for whatever reason, don’t fit into your vision of what this department should be. I’d go so far as to say your tactics have amounted to bullying.’
Amira glanced around as if looking for support. Relieved to see that no one responded, Rachel was quick to seize the advantage.
‘Bullying is a very strong accusation, Amira. I could almost say slanderous as it’s a disciplinary, even a criminal offence. Do any of you others agree with her? Now’s the time to get it off your chests, while we’re clearing the air.’
She scanned slowly around the table, forcing herself to make eye contact with each person in turn. One by one they dropped their gaze, or found something interesting through the window, or over near the door. All except Ewan, who hadn’t even raised his head, and Charlie, who was fidgeting with the kitchen knife.
For Rachel the silence was like someone opening a valve in her chest and releasing the pressure. She’d won. She would keep her team together. There would be no revolt. Mark Hamilton would not let her go at the end of her probation period. The relief was overwhelming. And was closely followed by a feeling of near-tenderness towards the people sat around her table.
‘This is exactly why we’re here,’ she said, her voice soft. ‘To air these festering grievances and then put them to bed. Thank you, Amira, for being so direct. In a moment we’ll go round and see what everyone else has to say, but first of all let’s eat!’
She flung open the fridge door, taking out clingfilm-covered dishes into which she’d already decanted the ready-prepared food she’d bought from M&S early that morning. ‘And why don’t we have a couple of bottles of wine as well. I know it’s officially a work day, but it’s more important that we talk it all through. And what better way to do it than with wine.’
Ronan had called it the Precipice, that critical moment in a deal where he’d delivered his spiel and was teetering on the edge, waiting to see if the client would bite or back down. That moment just then had been her Precipice. And now it was over, she knew she could afford to be kinder. But first, wine.
‘Ewan, why don’t you come and help me pick out a couple of bottles of wine from the cellar downstairs?’
The ‘wine cellar’ was actually just a storeroom off the gym containing a drinks fridge and a few racks of red wine, but Ronan had always called it that, and the name had stuck. Singling Ewan out might make up for her earlier gaffe about checking his pockets, which she had instantly regretted. Plus it wouldn’t hurt him to get a look at the gym and the sauna. Ewan was impressed by material things. He wanted her, but more than that he wanted what she had. She recognized that want.