And he looks so radiant I can’t bear to spoil it. I can let him have this. I can let him have one day of joy before I destroy it. I’ll tell him when he calls tomorrow, I promise myself. It doesn’t matter if I wait twenty-four hours. It’s not going to make the blindest bit of difference.
“So,” I say instead, “Effie made a friend today.”
He clasps his hands together, raises them to his mouth and lets out a wolf howl.
“Stop that. Somebody will think you’re being murdered.” My head looks around as if I’m there in the room with him.
“There’s nobody here,” he says, leaning back. “Mom’s so happy she’s gone to tell the neighbours.”
Interesting. He doesn’t mention Imogen.
“You know,” he continues. “Everyone finds their own tribe eventually. It’s just some tribes are harder to find.”
“True.” I acknowledge his words with a dip of my head.
“Speaking of tribes,” he says. “You know, I haven’t told you how grateful I am for you looking after Cerium. It’s been a weight off my mind knowing you’re running things. I knew Piotr and the others would step up to help, but it’s great knowing my baby is safe in your hands.”
For a second, I can’t speak. I force the smile to remain on my face. I feel terrible. I’m only lying by omission. But it’s a lie all the same.
I hear the clatter of a screen door in the background. Anders’s head whips around. When he turns back to me, there’s a wry smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ve got to go. I promised Mom I’d take her to her knit-and-natter group before I do the evening milking.”
Saved by Mom. I’m so relieved.
“It’s a great day,” he says, and disconnects.
Little does he know.
A Hero’s Return
I promised myself I’d tell Anders on Sunday night. I’d let him have his happiness until then but after that, I’d break it to him bit by bit, gently leading him through the evidence and my thought process. Then we’d brainstorm how to deal with Cerium’s existential crisis.
But Sunday night rolls around and Anders doesn’t call. At midnight, I give up waiting for him. Eventually I send a message; but that too goes unanswered. I could hassle him, but I don’t want to. Who knows what emergencies are going on in his life? His father could have had a relapse. His cows could be rampaging down Main Street or whatever they have in the US. I don’t send anything more. He can see my message. He’ll respond when he can.
But it means that when Monday morning rolls around and it’s time for the meeting with the senior management team, I still have no idea what to do.
Cerium still has a game, obviously, but we’ve got a mountain of debt, a busted marketing strategy, and a sea full of hostile competitors. And there’s no telling how much Wobbegong knows now.
I’m deep in my thoughts as I push through the doors of the building. So deep that I don’t even see Ginny until her arms wrap around me. At least I’m guessing it is her as my face is full of red locks. When she lets me go, I back up.
“You fired Piotr!” she shrieks, hands flapping. “But why didn’t you tell me? I’d have cancelled my holiday so I could watch. Did he plead for his job?”
I think back to that scene in Anders’s office. The simmering anger and incipient threat of violence. For all that she was having sex with the guy, she really didn’t know him at all. Probably just as well.
I sidestep her question. “How was your break?” I ask instead. A shaft of guilt rides through me as I remember my suspicion that she was the mole and not on holiday at all. “You look great.”
And she does. She’s tanned and happy and relaxed in a way I haven’t seen for a long time. She bites her lip. “It was excellent,” she says. “I can’t wait to tell you about it all. Meet me in the break room at lunch.”
“I’ll try.” It’s the best commitment I’m prepared to make. I can almost guarantee I won’t be able to get away. Today is going to be hell as we deal with the fallout of Piotr’s departure. But it’s enough to placate her and she bounces off down the corridor as I stop outside the door to Anders’s office.
We’re meeting here instead of the glass-fronted conference room to reduce speculation among the rest of the staff. The others are already in situ. I’m the last to arrive, courtesy of my family responsibilities.
Scarlett is looking extremely smug as I take a seat beside her. By contrast, Ramesh is haggard. I suspect he’s worked allweekend. Ahmed, who received the news from me via a text message, has his head tilted to one side and is eyeing me speculatively. Marnie gives me an encouraging smile. Beside her, Nur, her head shrouded in vivid orange today, gives me a wink from her place on the sofa. Chloe is sitting beside her, ready to take minutes.
“Well, you all know what happened on Friday,” I open. “As a result, we’ve got three major issues to deal with.” I list them in order of increasing importance. “We need a new partnership manager to replace Scarlett here. We need a new launch date…”
“What?” Ramesh interrupts. “Why?”
