‘Yes, thanks,’ she replied, stopping in the doorway as if she felt guilty about rushing off.
‘Peter told me about Daisy. He’s really sorry, you know. He feels awful.’
‘Yes, I know. I shouldn’t have lost it with him the way I did. I also feel terrible.’
Zoe raised a hand and dismissed the comment with a wave. ‘He’ll get over it. Anyway, I should go back up. We’re watching a film and I need to be home by ten.’ Zoe turned and trotted up the stairs. She’d been so eager to get away, she had left two glasses of Coke sitting on the worktop. Beth frowned. Zoe was usually so happy to chat to her. Although she had been her usual, polite self, there had been something in the way she looked at Beth. That same worried caution that her son assessed her with. God knows what Peter had said about her.
Beth pulled into a parking space and made her daily jaunt through town to the offices of Greys. Beeping her pass card against the reader, the door clicked, allowing her in. She made her way to her office, waving hello to a few people as she passed them, the usual Monday morning conversations playing out around the water cooler. As she neared Margot’s office, she saw her on the phone, deep in conversation. Margot glanced up and gave her a wave. Beth smiled, returning the gesture, then walked down to the end of the corridor, unlocking her office door. As she hung her jacket on the coat stand, a knock at her door resonated through the room. She called for her visitor to come in. A guy from accounts who she knew only as Tim entered with a young, awkward-looking girl.
‘This is Beth Carter. She’s in charge of all the submissions. She filters out the crap before they go to Chloe for more careful scrutiny.’ Tim sounded bored. Nobody liked showing new staff members around.
Beth crossed the office to greet them. The girl, small and mousy, looked about twelve. Long, dirty-blonde, straight hair hung unstyled halfway down her back. Large, thick, tortoiseshell-framed glasses covered most of the top half of her small, almond-shaped face. She wore a knee-length grey polka-dot dress, and no make-up. Small white pimples decorated her skin, from her chin up past her mouth and onto both cheeks. Beth tried not to stare at them. The girl had a thick, woolly, brown cardigan over the top of her dress and finished off her look with a pair of grubby pink converse boots. She stared at Beth with an odd expression on her face, which Beth couldn’t figure out.
‘This is Vicky. She’s starting with us today in accounts,’ offered Tim, through forced chirpiness.
‘I’m sure you’ll love it here. It’s a really friendly place to work.’
‘Hello. Pleased to meet you.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Have we met before?’ A northern lilt played on her voice. She smiled, exposing a mouthful of overcrowded teeth.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Beth replied.
‘You look really familiar.’ Vicky eyed Beth from behind her glasses, the dense lenses causing her eyes to look abnormally large. She was not letting this go.
‘Nope, I’m pretty sure we’ve never met. Sorry. Maybe I’ve just got one of those faces.’
‘Hmm,’ Vicky muttered, in a sceptical tone that suggested she may still be pondering it.
Beth made an overdramatic show of looking at her watch, and Tim and Vicky took the hint. They said their goodbyes and left Beth to continue with her work.
Beth shut her door and returned to her desk. She turned on her computer and it whirred to life. She logged in to her emails and began making her way through hundreds of submissions that had arrived in her inbox since she left on Friday evening.
After she’d read a few of them, a chime told her a new message had arrived. A small window popped up on her screen saying, email from Vicky Kershaw, with Vicky’s mousey face next to it.
Hi Beth. Great to meet you. Your face is so familiar. Racking my brains as to why! I’m sure it will come to me. :)
She finished it with a little smile made from a colon and a bracket, which made Beth want to punch her. Beth sighed, clicked delete, and didn’t bother replying.
She skim-read a few further submissions, marking some for a more detailed look, dumping the rubbish. After an hour or so of staring at the computer, she needed a break. Grabbing her mug, she walked out into the main office heading for the kitchen. The new break-out areas had been erected recently, slap bang in the middle of each floor. The directors said it encouraged a more sociable atmosphere. In reality, Beth and a few of her colleagues thought it might be so people spent less time in the kitchen gassing. Beth spooned some instant coffee into a mug full of boiling water, then stood stirring it for a second.
Feeling uneasy, like she was being watched, she glanced up, scanning the office.
Her skin prickled as her eyes came to rest on Vicky. She stood behind someone at a desk right over the other side of the room. Vicky paid no attention to whatever the girl was saying. She was staring straight at Beth.
Beth frowned, looking away, embarrassed. She glanced back up a few moments later, surprised to see the girl still regarding her. Instead of averting her eyes, as any normal person would do when caught staring, Vicky smiled and held up her hand, giving Beth a wave. Beth didn’t wave back. She returned to her office, closing the door behind her.
At about one o’clock, Margot knocked on Beth’s door, offering to grab her a sandwich, as she was popping out.
‘I’ll come with you. I need a walk,’ Beth said, grabbing her jacket from the coat stand.
As they walked, Beth relayed
