Just Business (14 page)

The arm around her shoulder tensed. ‘Ann didn't enjoy motherhood – she resented the fact it tied her down. She wanted her sleepless nights to be a result of partying till dawn and not because of an unpredictable baby. It got worse when she went back to work. She didn't think it was important to be home before Jenny went to bed. She's in Malaysia now – on a
three-month assignment that's been extended to nine months.'

‘I'm sorry. It sounds like she's the one missing out.' Niamh didn't quite know what to say. She felt overwhelming sympathy for the baby, Jenny. The baby without a mother. Niamh only knew what it was like to lose a father.

‘You're right, she is.'

It took Niamh a while to think of a question to open up the conversation without being too invasive. ‘Jenny is such a cute name – it suits her.'

‘Yes,' his eyes clouded with a memory. ‘Ann and I spent months and months debating names. Jenny was the only name we agreed on – we were lucky it wasn't a boy.'

Niamh wanted to know more. She wanted to determine exactly what she and Chris were missing out on. ‘What's it like being a father? Did it change your life?'

‘Yes, but I love it – I love her. It's a fierce love, enough to make up for her mother. How about you?' His eyes were looking deep inside her. ‘Do you want to be a mother some day?'

‘Yes, some day.' She played with the hem of her dress, repeatedly smoothing it down over her thighs. ‘It's a way of starting over, isn't it? A new baby – a new life to help everybody forget the past. My sister, Aisling, she has a new baby, a new start –'

Niamh stopped dead and Scott sensed she had already revealed much more than she was comfortable with. She was private; it would take time to get to know her. Would she allow him that time? Even as a friend?

He steered the conversation to what he thought was safer ground. ‘Aisling, I've never heard that name before. What does it mean?'

‘Aisling? It's Irish, of course … it means “vision”.' The tears that Niamh had been holding back all day escaped down her
face. ‘Dad chose both our names. He somehow convinced Mum not to even consider anything else.'

Scott's arm squeezed tighter. She drew from its warmth, its strength. She couldn't remember the last time Chris had hugged her.

Denis Greene didn't attend the Christmas party. For once he had prevailed over the caller. And it was all due to Lily and her bout of bronchitis. The caller wasn't pleased, pointing out numerous times that the party was the perfect informal occasion for Denis to remind the decision-makers that he wasn't going to go away. But Denis could not be budged. He was adamant that his wife was too ill to leave at home alone.

Lily was a good patient. She complained less than she did when she was well. She slept a lot and only called him when she needed a fresh glass of water. It gave Denis time on his own to think. The night of the Christmas party was a warm one and he sat out on his back veranda with a cold beer. They lived close to a main road and the traffic was noisy but it didn't bother him. Despite his outward aggression, there were only two things in life that really bothered the engineer. The first was his wife. She was always sure to work him up and invariably made him see red within moments of opening her mouth. The second thing
was money. He cared about money and was always striving to earn that extra dollar. It had been his sole motivation when getting involved in the racket at work. He was no fool; he understood the consequences of what they expected him to do. But the money was too good to pass up. Three years' salary for ten successful, albeit illegal, installations.

It had started off on good terms. They gave him cash and he did what he was asked to do. There was minimal contact. Now it was a different game. There were the nightly phone calls. There was the solicitor. For Christ's sake, there was even a barrister! They were deliberately intimidating him and that freaked him out. And the big question was what would happen if he refused to co-operate? Would they carry out the unspoken threat?

He had two more beers before he came to a conclusion. This operation had been planned to the finest detail. They had identified the clients, they had decided on the date, they had even created the enabling virus. And with him, the engineer, they had access. There was no doubt these people had back-up plans, including a plan for him if he didn't conform.

It was a worrying thought and Denis drowned it out with the rest of his six-pack.

Willem Boelhoers tried to live a calm and healthy life. He avoided parties and alcohol as they only served to aggravate his illness. The following Monday he smiled politely as his staff told him what a great party he had missed. By midweek the hype had quietened down and everybody was thinking about the impending holidays.

On Christmas Eve Willem was alone in his office when he heard carols drift through his open window. It reminded him
he had shopping to do, gifts to buy for his beloved niece and nephew. He eventually became conscious of the voices that could be heard whenever there was a lull in the carols. He remembered what Niamh had said about writing down what he heard and he diligently took a notepad from his desk drawer. He wrote down the words as they floated past, faint and disjointed. That was the strange thing. The voices he heard because of his illness were so powerful that he had to do whatever they commanded him. Yet he could hardly hear these voices and they didn't seem to be commanding him to do anything at all.

It stopped after a few minutes. Willem looked at the words; they didn't make any kind of sense. He was still puzzling over them when his boss, Bruce, walked in.

‘I've received a written complaint from AIZ Bank.' Bruce was frowning; the festive season never got in the way of his work.

Willem forgot about the voices and told his boss what he knew about the bank's grievance. ‘Yes, I know they aren't happy. We didn't have a critical part when they needed it last week.'

‘How did that happen?' Bruce snapped.

‘The part was on loan. To Denis Greene.' Willem paused before adding, ‘We shouldn't allow loans to cause our stock to go below minimum levels.'

‘Too right we shouldn't. What part was it?'

‘It was a hard-disk drive – for their mainframe.'

Bruce was thoughtful – the interrogation of Willem stalled as he let his thoughts focus on Denis Greene and the parts on loan. Willem misread the reason for his silence.

‘Don't worry about AIZ,' he said reassuringly. ‘We had a great relationship until this happened and we'll bend over backwards to win their confidence back.'

‘Their contract term is up in January,' Bruce reminded the head engineer. ‘This is not a good time to be getting written letters of complaint. We must keep AIZ sweet – Japan is counting on the contract renewal.'

‘Why?'

‘Apparently it's the biggest deal in the region at the moment.'

Bruce, looking very preoccupied, left as suddenly as he had arrived. Willem was left alone to face the words he had written. There were two words that stood out because they had been said more than once:
money
and
virus
. He resolved that he would continue to write every time the voices filled his head. Maybe it would all make sense over time.

For now, the voices seemed to have ceased and all he could hear was a rousing version of ‘Jingle Bells' from the street below. He decided to have an early lunch and get stuck into his Christmas shopping.

Across in the executive area the Christmas carols couldn't be heard and there was no evidence of the festive spirit. Niamh and Lucinda were cocooned in Malcolm's office, anger bouncing off the walls.

‘Why can't Phil just say sorry to her and let that be the end of it?'

Niamh found it hard to temper her response to Malcolm's incredibly stupid suggestion. ‘For a start, if we don't deal with this properly the company can be held responsible for Phil's behaviour,' she said with surprising restraint.

‘I think you're making a mountain out of a molehill,' Malcolm accused, folding his arms in dissension.

‘Quite the contrary!' Niamh's patience was hanging by a
thread. ‘It's
your
behaviour that places us at risk. A mere apology is not appropriate, there must be disciplinary action. Senior management has to get behind the company's sexual harassment policy –'

‘Of course I support the policy.' Malcolm was indignant, jumping forward in his chair.

‘Your actions don't demonstrate that support.' Niamh's voice rose a few notches. It seemed that shouting was the only way she could get the CEO to hear what she was saying.

‘Why don't we have some time out, guys,' Lucinda intervened.

‘It's not –' Malcolm started to protest.

‘Let's take a break, okay?' Lucinda gave him a placatory smile and called his secretary to organise some coffee.

There was a tense truce until the coffee arrived.

After allowing a few minutes for the caffeine to take effect, Lucinda, the calmest, reopened the discussion. ‘Malcolm, I have rarely seen such a clear-cut case of sexual harassment. Helen Barnes can take us to the cleaners – if we reinstate her we will save the company a lot of cash, not to mention embarrassment.'

Niamh was taken aback. She had assumed that she wouldn't get any support from the lawyer, especially after her derogatory comments about Helen. She bit her tongue to stop herself from asking Lucinda what had changed her mind. Maybe she just liked to play the devil's advocate. Maybe that was how she got results.

‘I'm not saying you can't reinstate her,' Malcolm said, his voice getting defensive again.

‘Good, that's settled.' Lucinda gave a nod of approval. ‘Helen comes back. Now, regarding Phil –'

‘Phil stays,' Malcolm stated with the weight of all his authority
as CEO. Phil was his ally on the executive. He would be vulnerable without him.

‘No, Phil must go.' Lucinda was firm. ‘His actions are unforgivable, there's no going back for him.
He must go
.'

Niamh saw a slow acceptance come over Malcolm's demeanour and felt a reluctant admiration for Lucinda. The lawyer had pulled all the right strings, making him realise there were no other options.

‘What will we do without a finance director?' Malcolm's question proved his defeat.

‘Helen Barnes can do that role standing on her head,' Niamh said. ‘Hasn't she been second-in-command for the last five years?'

‘Hold on, now.' Malcolm looked from one woman to the other. ‘Just a moment ago we were only reinstating her – why can't I hire a new finance director?'

‘It's up to you,' Niamh shrugged, deliberately nonchalant, ‘But you should know that a new hire will cost you dearly in recruitment fees.'

Malcolm was trapped. Profit ruled. ‘Fine,' he sighed. ‘Give her the job – I just hope she appreciates all that we've done for her.'

‘I think the promotion will go some way to alleviating the hurt and embarrassment she's had to endure,' Niamh met his eyes squarely, ‘And I think she'll be an outstanding finance director.'

She left it to Malcolm to break the news to Phil. He had hired him and it seemed appropriate that he fire him. While Malcolm was busy doing that, she called Helen and asked her to drop in after lunch.

This time Lucinda was punctual and Helen was the one who was late. She was flustered when she arrived. ‘The traffic is horrendous. There's been an accident on the bridge –'

‘We've investigated your claims regarding Phil Davis,' Lucinda cut short her traffic report. ‘From the evidence we've obtained, we agree it is probable that the sexual harassment occurred.'

‘Probable?' Helen questioned, looking outraged as she sat down.

‘Yes, the sexual harassment code of practice requires us to make a finding on the balance of probabilities.' Lucinda's smile was patronising. ‘Don't take it personally – it's just a relevant way to describe the outcome of our investigation under the code.'

‘If you say so.'

There was an undisguised animosity between Lucinda and Helen. At the last meeting it was Lucinda who was the agitator. This time it was Helen. Niamh wondered whether there was a specific issue or if Helen, like her, found it impossible to connect with the lawyer.

‘Phil has been dismissed,' Niamh said, not wanting to leave Helen in suspense for any longer than necessary.

‘Good,' she nodded with satisfaction, ‘It's no more than he deserves.'

‘And we would like to offer you his role,' Niamh continued.

‘The finance director's role?' Helen asked, her eyes wide as she checked for clarification.

‘Yes, that's the one. Our offer is with the same salary and terms as for Phil.' Niamh smiled when she saw that Helen looked happy about the proposition.

‘Well, I'm flabbergasted … I accept your offer, of course. When do I start?'

‘We'll send you out a letter tomorrow and you should be able to commence your duties after the Christmas break,' Lucinda said as she stood up. ‘I'm afraid I have to go now. I have a function to attend this evening.'

Niamh noticed that Lucinda was wearing a cocktail dress underneath her jacket. She knew that the lawyer took the social side of her role seriously. She made sure she was seen at all the important seminars and functions in her field. She networked with diligence, forming relationships with the people who mattered. But Niamh couldn't imagine what function would be more important than her own child. Surely four-year-old Jack would be waiting for his mother to come home on Christmas Eve?

‘I had better go too,' said Helen. ‘I have to take my mother for a check-up this afternoon. Her GP warned me to get there early before he has his seasonal tipple … Look, Niamh, thanks for all your support these last few weeks. I really appreciate it.'

‘My pleasure – I'm looking forward to working with you.'

Helen left quickly, seemingly overcome by it all. She had only been gone for a few moments when Niamh heard the shouting. She rushed out of her office, hoping that the booming voice didn't belong to Phil Davis. Her hopes were in vain. She stood by Sharon's desk as she helplessly watched the confrontation unfold.

‘You stupid fucking cow! Look what you've done!'

Phil had cleaned the contents of his office into a small box and now he dropped it to the floor so he could square up to Helen. Niamh and Sharon flinched in sync with the thud on the carpet.

‘Get away from me!' Helen stepped back from his fury.

‘You'll be sorry you did this, you stupid bitch!' He closed
the distance between them by taking another threatening step towards her.

There were many things Helen could have said in response, cutting replies that she had rehearsed in private a thousand times. But none of them were appropriate for an audience to hear.

‘Just leave me alone!' was all she said before she turned on her heel.

Phil stood there for a while, his broad shoulders heaving in anger. Then he picked up the box and left the executive area for good.

‘Bloody hell!' Sharon's hair seemed to be standing on end. ‘He's a scary man! That was bad timing to have Helen come out of your office then.'