She looked at me as though I were mad. “Bored?”
I forced myself to laugh. It felt odd talking to her; the only person I’d spoken to since Friday night had been the receptionist at the hotel. There was so much to say, but nothing I could tell her.
I fumbled in my bag for my lanyard and hooked it around my neck. I followed Sarah as she walked through the security turnstile. She flashed her card, waited for the green light, and went through. Then I flashed my card. Except when I did it, the light shone red instead of green. I flashed it again. And again. It was still red.
“Danny?” I called to the security guard. “There must be something wrong with my card. Can you let me through? I’ll get a new one when I’m upstairs.”
Danny came over to me, his expression as polite as usual, but without his customary smile. “Step aside, will you, Mrs. Dean?”
I frowned. Mrs. Dean? We were all on first-name terms at work. Without thinking, I stepped aside and immediately the crowd behind me formed a queue for the turnstile.
He went over to the chairs that were for visitors, next to the entrance. “Take a seat here, will you?”
Sarah was waiting for me on the other side of the reception area. “You go on,” I said to her. “I’ll get this sorted out and see you up there.”
She nodded. “I’ll make coffee.”
I sat and waited, though I didn’t know what I was waiting for. Danny had disappeared and I had no idea where he’d gone. Perhaps he needed a key to open the gate? And then I saw Mark, one of the guys from the Sales department, come in from the car park, carrying a huge box. Another security guard came over to the turnstiles and flashed his own card so that Mark could pass through.
I walked over to the turnstile. “Can I come through with him?” I asked. “I’ll get my card sorted as soon as I get upstairs.”
“Sorry, miss.” The security guy looked at me, then looked quickly away. “You’d better wait for Danny to come back.”
I stared at him, but he walked away. Slowly I went back to my chair. I waited for another five minutes. People filed through from my office and waved hello. A couple of the directors’ PAs gave me curious glances but I just smiled and said, “Won’t be long.”
And then the lift doors opened and our director of Human Resources, Eleanor Jones, got out. A group of young women instantly stood up straight and I saw one check her watch, clearly relieved she was early. Eleanor was a stickler for timekeeping. She was holding a cardboard box that looked like it held reams of photocopier paper. It was only as she looked across at me that I realized she was there to meet me.
My stomach lurched. She came over to me and though I wanted to stand to greet her, I couldn’t; my legs were shaking too hard. She sat beside me, pink with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, Ruby,” she said. She passed the box to me. I looked down and saw my things from my desk drawers. My spare cosmetics. My sweater. A hairbrush. Headache pills. I winced. I knew my contraceptive pills would be in there, too. On top was an envelope with my name on it. “Your contract’s been terminated.”
CHAPTER 8
Ruby
Eleanor didn’t stay long and neither did I. I started to ask why they were letting me go, but she stopped me.
“You haven’t been here two years yet,” she said. “Legally we’re not obliged to give you that information. I’m sure you know the reason why, though. I don’t think we need to discuss it here, do you?”
I glanced round at the inquisitive faces that were passing by and flushed. How had she known about our affair?
“But you haven’t the right to fire me.” My voice rose. “It’s not my fault!”
Eleanor looked as though she wanted to say something more, but she merely repeated, “You know that within the first two years we have the right to let you go at any time and for any reason. You’ve been here eighteen months.”
“But . . .”
She stood up. Clearly our meeting was at an end. She touched the envelope in the box. “I’ve written you a short reference and there’s a check for this month’s salary, a month’s notice, and any outstanding holiday pay, too.”
I stood, too, not knowing what to do or say. She passed me the box and ushered me to the door. I saw a couple of friends walking in, hurrying when they saw Eleanor. I could tell she was tempted to chase after them to remind them to be on time, but instead she stood on guard at the door, watching as I walked to my car.
* * *
• • •
Rage hit me as I drove away. I’d never been fired before; my work was always well done and I hadn’t had a day’s absence in the eighteen months I’d worked there. I didn’t let myself acknowledge that that was because I hadn’t wanted to miss a day with Harry. I drove to a supermarket car park a couple of miles away and parked as far as I could from anyone else. My heart pounded as I took out my phone.
I was so filled with shame and rage that although I’d promised I’d never do this while he was still with Emma, I dialed Harry’s mobile number. Immediately, his voice boomed out.
“Hi,” he said.
My heart banged. “Harry?”
And then he continued. “This is Harry Sheridan. You’ve reached my voice mail. Please leave a message.”
I managed to control myself. I knew I mustn’t leave a message. Quickly I ended the call and tapped in Harry’s direct number at work. After two rings the call was picked up.
“Good morning, Harry Sheridan’s office.”
I held my breath for a second. It wasn’t him. I recognized the voice; it was Paula, Eleanor’s assistant. We weren’t exactly friends, but we got along okay.
“Paula? It’s me, Ruby.”
“Oh,” she said, and my heart sank. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Did you want something?”
“Can I speak to Harry?” I wasn’t even going to pretend that I didn’t know why she was odd with me. “Can you put me through?”
She gave a sharp intake of breath, as though this was personally affecting her. “I’m sorry. All of Mr. Sheridan’s calls are coming through me now.” There was a pause and then she said formally, “Would you like to leave a message?”
For a split second I thought of giving her the message I really wanted to pass on and Paula going to the cafeteria at lunchtime and repeating it to everyone, but I managed to restrain myself.
“That’s all right,” I said politely. “Don’t worry.”