The I.T. Girl (4 page)

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Authors: Fiona Pearse

BOOK: The I.T. Girl
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‘Would you like me to ask for a spoon?’ he said.

‘No, thank you. I have to practice.’

‘If only they had some web-like feature at the end.’ He moved
his plate under the wobbling dumpling. ‘Some sort of prong or scooping mechanism.’

‘You’re so clever. You should suggest that to the waitress.’
I pushed the food on to his plate.

‘Thanks. You needn’t bother with the sauce.’ He tucked a napkin
into his shirt, which was short-sleeved and had a wide collar. The material was
the colour of stone with a natural wrinkle so even though it went with his combat
trousers, he still looked scruffy. I had gone for jeans, knowing the restaurant
was casual. My top was dark blue and sleeveless with a high collar. It was my first-date
top. I tucked a napkin in too.

‘This is really good,’ he sounded surprised

‘A lot of Vietnamese people eat here, apparently.’ I looked around.
There were couples and small groups, clicking chopsticks over low tables.

‘I’ve been to Vietnam. This is quite close to the real thing,’
he said.

‘Really?
I’d love to see Vietnam.’

‘I was diving, off the Central Coast.’

‘The central
coast
?’

“Ah, it’s half way
down
the coast.’ He looked around the table. ‘Here’s Vietnam,’ he said with the tray
of sauces. ‘Here’s
Nha
Trang
.’
He aligned the jar of chilli. ‘It’s surrounded by inland mountains.’ He placed a
napkin that was still folded in a peak. ‘And there’s an island off shore.’ He pushed
over a saucer. ‘
Which actually protects it from a lot of storms.
And because of the mountains, all that area has these micro climates.’ He swirled
his fingers. ‘Little pockets for diving or beach holidays, but drizzly bits of British
weather too.’

‘Are there any sharks?’ I moved in a ladle.

‘Only little fish.
And the occasional eel.’
He demonstrated with a chopstick. ‘Have
you ever dived?’

‘No, but I’d love to. I was actually looking at some dive holidays
for this year. The Red Sea has some packages-’ I stopped before I got to the bit
where they were holidays for singles.

‘I could send you some information if you like,’ he offered.

Our main courses arrived. We put food on each other’s plate.

‘So, you’ve always had the travel bug, Columbus?’ I asked.

‘Ha,’ he laughed at the nickname. ‘I didn’t know what I wanted
to do after I left school. So I went to Australia for a year and that was it...
Got a job in a bank when I came home... I thought it would be the end of me.’

‘You’re not ambitious,’ I stated.

‘I’m ambitious to do something I like – you’d wonder why I stay
in
CouperDaye
. Having money to travel is good,’ he conceded.

‘I don’t understand why people stay in a job they don’t like,’
I said it more to myself than to him.

‘I do like my job,’ he protested. ‘I like working in finance.
It’s really challenging and it’s fast-paced.’

‘Oh no, I don’t mean –’ I held up a hand, seeing I sounded judgemental.

‘It’s the
CouperDaye
attitude that
I have a problem with.’

‘Why don’t you leave then?’

‘Because I like to take a break from work every
few years.
And I don’t want to job-hop in between.’

‘Oh. That’s a really good idea.’

‘How do you find
CouperDaye
?’ His chopsticks
played over the salad bowl again.

‘I’m enjoying the work. And I think there’re a lot of good opportunities.’

‘Ah the brain washing has started to take effect,’ he said, cheekily.

‘Why?’ I didn’t try to hide a little irritation. ‘Because I think
I can do well?’

‘Look, just be careful you don’t get sucked into their mindset.
It’s like
CouperDaye
wants to give you your opinion –
I don’t know why they have to be so paranoid – I guess they want to keep control.
But it’s like, if you challenge anything, then automatically you have a bad attitude.’
He laughed. ‘Eventually people just give up trying and leave or become bitter.’
He guided a small piece of squid into his mouth and swallowed. ‘Don’t you notice
that in R&D?’

‘I suppose,’ I said, realising I hadn’t challenged anything yet.
‘But, I think I’m pretty good at thinking for myself.’

‘Good. Stay that way... I hate talking about work,’ he quipped.
‘Let’s make a rule, no work talk.’

‘No
work talk
.’

‘Why did you leave Ireland?’

‘Itchy feet.
I wanted the experience
of living somewhere else... A relationship ended over it. He wanted to stay. I wanted
to go.’

‘You
are
determined.’

Yes,’ I admitted. ‘But I think it was the best thing because
we weren’t right together. Anyway, London is a fresh start.’

We finished our main courses and I gave in to the dessert menu.
I asked for two spoons, coaxing him to have some.

‘There’s a Vietnamese near where I live too,’ he said after a
moment of silence. ‘Actually does great deserts.
Which is pretty
unusual for a Vietnamese restaurant.
I could take you there some time, if
you like.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Hmm, you know, I’m not really looking for a
relationship right now.’

He flinched. ‘Oh, sure, me neither.’

‘It’s just that I need to put work first.’

‘You’re a career woman,’ he teased.

‘It’s not just that. I’m new to London and I think it’s healthier
not to get too involved with one person. I mean... I really want to make friends.
You know, I’ve been here six months and haven’t seen a musical yet.’

‘I definitely think you should make
other
friends for that.’ He helped himself to ice-cream.

‘Right?
Also after the break up, I don’t
feel as if I’m ready for something serious yet.’

‘Whoa. Who said anything about something serious?’

Now it was my turn to flinch. ‘Oh... no... I mean... I’m just
trying to explain. I really do enjoy spending time with you,’ I finished miserably.

We said no to coffees. The waitress dismantled Vietnam and brought
us the bill.

 

Sam was stubborn, I thought, as I waited for the IT Support guy
to set up a teleconference between me and the METX Exchange. Our first Monday morning
meeting as a merged group with programmers and business analysts all in the one
role hadn’t gone so well. Everyone had cleared out in silence leaving me to set
up my conference. Well, maybe Sam’s protest was right. Analysing market data and
anticipating client needs was not his area of interest or expertise. And with no
allowance in project schedules for our learning curve, how were we to deliver quality
work? But then, Sam was stubborn. He’d probably be kicking up no matter what.

Gary, my Networks contact, came in as the IT Support guy passed
him out the door.

‘Hi.’ We smiled at each other.

‘Am I late?’ he asked, pulling a chair closer.

‘No. You’re just in time.’ I held up the phone-pad now connected
to the large flat-screen T.V.

‘You got a time line?’ Gary asked, settling with a notebook in
front of him.

‘Well, for the whole project? Around six weeks to two months.
But we need the lease lines finalised in about four at the latest.’ It was the advice
Cameron had given.

‘Can the Exchange provide the infrastructure for that?’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ I felt caught off guard. ‘Hopefully we can
confirm that today.’

‘Okay. You’ll have to raise its priority in order for us to get
it moving from our side too, yeah.’ His head bobbed when he spoke.
‘Any information like volume of data or peak times?’

‘Let’s ask about that now,’ I said, making notes as he spoke.
We sat back and waited for the phone to ring.

‘So how long
you been
with
CouperDaye
?’ I asked him.

‘About seven years. I was in the army before.
Comms
.’

‘How’s this compare then?’

‘Different,’ Gary said. ‘You think keeping
comms
up to save lives is important until you’re keeping
comms
up so people can make money.’

I barked a small laugh at the nonchalance of his tone. But I
was reminded of the warning I had received on Saturday night.

The phone rang and I pressed the button to put us on speaker.
A man’s voice crackled through saying they hadn’t been able to setup a video call
to give us the presentation but could make this an introductory call instead.

‘Cowboys,’ Gary wrote on my notepad.

 

 
 

Chapter Three

 

Escaped dust filled my bedsit, billowing over an unsteady lamp
and up to a bookshelf that was empty except for a group of huddled porcelain figures.
The couch was pushed against a wall and in its place cardboard boxes covered the
floor. Only an overnight bag sat open, along with my clothes for the morning. The
scene reminded me of when I moved into the basement flat, two weeks after arriving
in London. It was small and bare but I had been relieved to be out of the poky hotel
room. Now I was moving again into an apartment that I actually owned. The exchange
had gone smoothly though I didn’t dare let out my breath until the keys were in
my hand. Everyone at work kept remarking on how calm I seemed about moving house
considering I was working on METX at the same time. But packing hadn’t been difficult;
I only had what I came to London with, plus a few extra work clothes. I had a methodical
way of doing things that meant a lot of situations that were generally considered
stressful were actually therapeutic for me. My mind would empty of METX concerns
in the evening while I considered what to keep and what to throw out and how best
to sort stuff into boxes. Now I felt like I was beginning my next phase of London
life.

The door phone buzzed and I stretched over my handbag to answer
it.

‘Columbus,’ the voice said at the other end. I laughed and buzzed
him in.

‘Glad you texted,’ he said coming through the door.

‘Me too.
I’m enjoying our… what are
we calling it?’

‘An arrangement,’ he reminded me and we kissed.

‘Would you like anything to drink?’ I asked. ‘I have juice, still.
Don’t mean to ply you with alcohol every time.’

‘No, I’m okay thanks. See you’re all packed.’ He looked around.
‘Whoa, how do we... get to the bed?’

‘Follow me.’ I crawled over the boxes and landed safely with
a bounce.

‘Are they solid?’ he asked, poking the nearest box with his foot.

‘Some are. Some aren’t.’

‘It’s like that game show from the Eighties,’ he said, feeling
his way.

‘If you step on the wrong box you’ll disappear,’ I added.

He made it across the cardboard vortex and we fell over on the
mattress. Things got serious as we took off each other’s clothes.

 

My eyes opened a moment before my alarm clock clicked and a siren
filled the room. I banged it quiet and forced myself upright. METX went live in
Asia through the night but as usual I was expected to be in for European start-up.

‘We broke the rules.’ He surfaced as I was about to leave. ‘No
sleepovers, remember?’ He constantly made fun of our rules, drunkenly put together
one night after a work party where we discovered, when everyone else had left, that
we still fancied each other, even if a relationship wasn’t on the cards. The only
part I could remember was back at mine, trying to find a notepad to write down the
rules, in between kissing. ‘God, you’re a nerd,’ he had said.

‘It’s early. Go back to sleep.’ I picked up my keys. ‘The movers
will be here later but you can just close the door when you’re leaving.’

‘Good luck with the rollout.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Hey.’ He caught my hand at the bedroom door, fingers lacing
briefly with mine. ‘Thanks for the wham-bam, Ma’am.’

‘Any time, sugar.’
I leaned over with
a kiss.

 

I logged in even before sitting down. Everything looked clean.
I checked the Asian indices. All as expected. There were still twenty minutes to
go before the European market opened. The wall clocks showed the time in our main
locations: Sydney, Tokyo, London and New York. I got a coffee and flicked through
the spec for my next project. I smiled. It was for an Asian Exchange this time.
High profile again.
Plenty of development work.

‘Ahoy, ahoy,’ Boris popped his head over my cube.

‘So far so good.’

‘European market about to open.
Nervous?’

‘No.’


Hoooh
...! There it is. 8 a.m. Any
second now...’

We both watched the screen for the European trading. For a moment
I forgot to breath, but then the prices trickled down in columns of orders and trades
and relief washed over me. I smiled at Boris and resumed reading the spec.

‘Hey, there we go. METX is on the map.’ He tapped the top of
my cube to say goodbye.

As the morning went on people came over to check on my feed and
say well done. METX was an international metals exchange. It ran nearly twenty-four
hours a day and handled about a million trades a day. It was the kind of feed that
other department managers would check on its first morning, and upper management
would include in speeches. I felt a twinge of guilt. This success was going to be
used as proof the merge could work, but in reality I knew of other projects, more
complicated, that had now been cut down. Programmers were reluctant to do anything
with complicated analysis and the business analysts were only taking on simple development
feeds. Looking further at the
AsiaCap
requirements, I
realised the analysis side would be tricky this time. I took a break from reading
and leaned back in my chair wondering when the training would come.

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