False Advertising (11 page)

Joanne shrugged.

‘This'll certainly be different,' Gemma said. ‘The guy before him was . . . well, let's just say he was a little more relaxed.'

‘Yeah, and he almost sent the place to the wall,' Joanne reminded her.

‘True.' Though Gemma doubted it was because he didn't run seven thousand meetings every week.

‘Anyway, the MD's very meticulous about his schedule,' said Joanne. ‘He uses a three-tiered system – daily, weekly and monthly.' She turned the screen of her computer towards Gemma. It was opened to a diary page that was divided into fifteen-minute intervals, with colour-coded entries written in some kind of shorthand.

‘How on earth does he follow that?' asked Gemma.

‘He came up with it,' Joanne replied. ‘It's linked to his computer and his BlackBerry, so whenever he adds an appointment it sends me an alert, and vice versa. But don't ever commit him to anything without running it by him first, even if it's a meeting he always takes and his schedule is free at the proposed time.'

Gemma was gobsmacked. ‘He really is a control freak.'

‘I don't know,' Joanne mused, leaning her chin on her hand. ‘Sometimes I get the impression he's only trying to keep his head above water.'

Great, so he was incompetent as well.

‘He's very capable though, don't get me wrong,' Joanne added. ‘He's certainly put this place back on track. But he works so hard, he doesn't stop, he won't delegate . . . It's almost like he feels he has to personally keep a handle on everything or it'll all fall apart.'

‘That's a bit arrogant.'

‘Oh, but he's not arrogant, that's the thing,' said Joanne. ‘I don't think he gets off on the power at all; in fact, sometimes I think it overwhelms him.'

Gemma was beginning to wonder whether Joanne didn't have a little crush. ‘Where is he by the way?' Gemma asked.

‘Well, let's check the schedule, give you an idea how it works.'
Joanne traced her finger down one of the columns. ‘As you can see, he's out of the office for most of the day.'

Gemma had no idea how she could see that.

Joanne looked at her blank expression. ‘Don't worry, you'll pick it up eventually. In the meantime, he said not to worry if he didn't catch up with you today; I should just get on with training you.'

They spent most of the morning unlocking the secrets of the schedule, but Gemma felt barely any the wiser. It seemed unnecessarily complex to her; she didn't know why he couldn't write simple, straightforward notes, instead of truncating everything into inscrutable codes and abbreviations. If she had her druthers she'd be dumping the whole system and starting over, but she wasn't going to have that choice. Her primary role here was to hold onto her job, which meant putting up with whatever he could throw at her.

At twelve-thirty, Gemma shooed Joanne off to lunch, insisting she take a long one. Joanne accepted, gratefully, but only on the proviso that Gemma answered the phone and did some basic filing and nothing else. She must not alter or add to the schedules in any way, or commit to anything, or decide on anything. Just take messages and file.

That suited Gemma. As it turned out, there was only one phone call and that was from Joanne's mother, who proceeded to apologise to Gemma for blocking the company phone line with a personal call, but she didn't like to call Joanne's mobile phone on account of the cost. Gemma assured her that the company had many phone lines and she was most welcome to call any time. Joanne's mother reminded her that Joanne would only be there for the rest of the week, and then they had a nice chat in which Gemma caught up on all the news in Joanne's family. She didn't mind, it helped fill in some time at least. Gemma had assumed this job would be a lot busier. Frantic, in fact. She was sure she remembered Liz being flat out a lot of the time. Being PA to the managing director had seemed to carry a fair amount of responsibility and not a little excitement. Liz had attended meetings along with Jonesy, as well as regular power lunches and ritzy cocktail parties, as Gemma recalled. Not that she was up to
all that at the moment. Perhaps that's why the MD had taken to attending meetings alone – Gemma suspected Joanne was not up to it either.

When Joanne returned from lunch she insisted Gemma take the full hour as well. As there was apparently no chance of the MD showing up any time soon, Gemma agreed. She didn't really feel like another scheduling tutorial, and there was little else to do. She'd finished all the filing.

She decided her time would be best spent breaking down some walls, or one wall in particular, and she might as well do that sooner rather than later. She caught the lift down to the creative department and swiped her card through the slot to release the glass door. It was quiet; most of them would still be out to lunch; some even liked to take a nap at this time of the day. These boys – and they were almost exclusively boys – did not follow schedules. She wondered how they got along with the MD.

Gemma spotted Charlie at the far end of the communal table seated in front of his computer. She could see his sandy, perpetually ruffled hair poking above the top of the monitor, and hear the constant clicking of the keyboard. As she walked closer he glanced up, paused for just a beat, then returned his eyes to the screen and the clicking resumed.

‘Hi, Charlie.'

He didn't say anything.

‘I was wondering if you're free for lunch? My shout.'

‘I've eaten,' he said gruffly.

‘Oh, come on, Charlie,' said Gemma, perching herself on the edge of the table.

‘I have work to do, Gemma.'

‘Can't you take a break, just for a little while?'

‘No.'

She considered him. ‘You could if you wanted to.'

‘I know.'

Gemma pulled a face. ‘You can't stay mad at me forever.'

He glanced at her briefly then once again returned his attention to the screen. The clicking became banging.

‘You can't keep ignoring me either, Charlie. You know how persistent I am.'

His shoulders lifted and fell again in a defeated sigh and he rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘I really have a lot of work to do right now, if you don't mind, Gemma.'

‘Just a cup of coffee?' she pleaded. ‘I need to talk to you about something.'

He met her eyes. ‘What could you possibly need to talk to me about?'

She leaned in closer to him. ‘I can't talk to anyone else about this, not around here.' She dropped her voice. ‘You're the only one I can trust.'

Charlie groaned. ‘Oh, no way, not this again.'

‘What?' Gemma straightened up. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘I'm not going to play your games this time, Gem – bringing me into your confidence, telling me all your little secrets . . .' He sighed loudly, and with finality. ‘Enough, I'm not interested.'

She frowned at him. ‘This isn't a little secret, Charlie, this is a big one. And it's serious.'

‘Then you'd best keep it to yourself.'

With that he focused again on the screen, and the interminable clicking resumed. Gemma paced around behind him, then up the other side of the table, thinking. She hadn't expected Charlie to be so resistant, so stubborn. Maybe she deserved it, but once he knew what this was about, he'd be sympathetic, Gemma was sure of it. Charlie was too good, too kind to turn his back on her when she was in such dire straits. That's why she needed him now more than ever; she'd never had a better friend.

Gemma spotted a stick-it notepad on the table. She grabbed a pen, jotted down a couple of words and walked determinedly back to where he sat, peeled off the note and stuck it right in the centre of the computer screen.

‘What the –' And then he stopped. Dead. Staring at the scribbled words ‘I'm pregnant'. He slowly turned his head to look up at Gemma.

She snatched the note back off the screen, screwing it up tight in her hand. ‘Now will you come and have a coffee with me?'

*

‘And you haven't seen or heard from him since?' Charlie was asking her.

Gemma shook her head, taking a sip of her tea. She still couldn't drink coffee, but she could at least tolerate the smell of it now. They were sitting in a cafe up the road, somewhere they were unlikely to be interrupted. It wasn't quite fashionable enough for the Bailey's crowd. Gemma had just finished telling Charlie the whole sordid story. It was a relief to get it off her chest, especially to Charlie. She'd almost let herself forget what a good friend he'd been. He'd always listened, never judged, always made her feel okay about herself . . .

‘So you must be feeling pretty foolish right now?' he said.

‘Charlie!' Gemma protested. ‘I thought you'd understand.'

‘I do understand, and I reckon you must feel like a fool, Gem, mostly because you acted like one.'

‘That's a bit harsh.'

Charlie looked squarely at her. ‘Do you want me to butter you up or do you want me to be honest?'

Gemma shrugged. ‘Couldn't I have honesty with a little butter on the side?'

He smiled then. A proper Charlie smile. Not guarded at all.

‘So, what are you going to do?' he asked.

‘About what?'

‘About telling the boss you're having a baby, for one thing.'

‘Oh,' she dismissed. ‘I haven't even thought about that yet.'

Charlie shook his head. ‘Same old Gem, worry about it when it happens, eh?'

‘Well, what's the point of worrying about it before that?' she declared. ‘In the meantime, I intend to be a model employee so he won't want to sack me when he finds out.'

‘But what's he supposed to do while you're off having the baby?'

Gemma waved her hand. ‘Oh, I'll come up with something.'

‘Do you even want to be a PA long term, Gem?'

‘No, of course not. I want to get back onto a team, work with you again.'

‘But didn't you just say that he made it quite clear the job was not a foot in the door –'

‘Okay, okay,' Gemma interrupted impatiently. ‘I thought I could count on you for support. Why are you being so negative, Charlie?'

‘I'm not; I'm being realistic, and you're not facing facts, Gem. It's like you're driving along in a car with no brakes, and you know there's a steep downward slope ahead but you've got your foot planted firmly on the pedal and you're pushing on regardless.'

She looked at him. ‘So, are you coming along for the ride?'

‘Ha,' he exclaimed. ‘Do you think I'm mad?'

‘A friend would,' said Gemma. ‘Aren't you my friend any more, Charlie?'

‘A friend, a real friend, would be doing everything he could to stop you.'

‘The wheels are already in motion,' Gemma shrugged. ‘I just want to get as far as I can before it all spins out of my control.'

‘Great plan,' Charlie muttered. ‘Is this how you intend to approach motherhood as well?'

Gemma dropped her eyes, frowning down at her cup of tea. Okay, so she knew she would make a hopeless mother, and the peanut would obviously be better off with someone else – that's why she was considering just that. Still, she didn't like having the fact rubbed in her face.

‘Gem?'

She looked up and Charlie was gazing intently at her, his head tilted on one side.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean . . .'

‘It's okay.' She waved it away. ‘I know I've made a mess of things, and I have no one to blame but myself. I'll find a way through it, I just thought . . .' She hesitated, biting her lip.

‘What?'

‘I just thought I could count on you, Charlie, like before. Like always.'

He seemed uncomfortable. ‘I don't know what you expect from me, Gem.'

‘Just friendship, that's all. You were the best friend I had here, Charlie. One of the best friends I've ever had.

‘And you pissed off without so much as a goodbye or any
word in all this time. I don't think that's how you treat a best friend.'

‘No, it isn't,' Gemma agreed solemnly. ‘And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry I could kick myself. In fact, I will kick myself if that'll make you happy.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘I'll do whatever you want. You name it. I'll bring you those muffins you like, I'll let you beat me at your stupid video games.'

‘I always beat you at my “stupid” video games,' said Charlie, unmoved.

‘It's the thought that counts,' said Gemma. ‘I'm just trying to show you that I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. So we can be friends again.'

He looked across the table at her, his face set into a frown, but as she met his gaze steadily and openly, his expression eventually relaxed and finally he sighed, shaking his head with a reluctant smile. ‘Banana nut, don't forget.'

Gemma let out a little shriek of delight as she reached over to hug him.

‘What are you doing?' he mumbled. ‘Cut it out.'

‘I knew you couldn't stay mad at me forever,' she beamed, settling back into her seat.

‘Yeah, well don't push it.'

‘I won't, I promise. I'll be the best –' Suddenly Gemma gasped. She'd just felt a strange flutter low in her belly.

‘What is it?' Charlie asked.

There it was again. ‘Oh my God!' she breathed. ‘I just felt it, Charlie, it kicked, or jumped or did a somersault, I don't know, it's probably only the size of a teabag . . . But it moved. All on its own.' She looked straight at Charlie. ‘For the first time.'

Gemma suddenly realised there was actually a baby in there. In the beginning it had been a shock, and then a novelty, then when Luke left, it became a pregnancy. It was something happening to her, a ‘condition', an inconvenience. The inevitable outcome was something she preferred not to think about. Now it was making its presence felt, literally, and Gemma could ignore it no longer. She was going to have a baby.