Emily's Story Pt. 00

As his mind had drifted during a dull stretch of the afternoon board meeting Tom remembered that he had been meaning to ask Dennis about the Futura Energy contract. Last year, the energy giant had been a major purchaser of BZI's synthetic zeolite which it utilised in the production of solar panels. The contract with Futura Energy was up for renewal and BZI were relying on them to commit to buying more of the product in order to safeguard future sales. Dennis had been given responsibility for finalising this deal. It was a big job to have been handed to him but he seemed eager to take the chance to show he was a safe pair of hands.

The last Tom had heard was that things were progressing smoothly. But then he had not been updated for some time now and needed to check in on how things were going. This contract was a major deal, one that they couldn't afford to mess about with.

He found Dennis sat at his desk wearing his usual ill-fitting suit and apparently clearing up ready to leave for home. Dennis had made a rather pointed look down at his watch when Tom asked to see him in his office. It was well past knocking off time. But Tom assured him it would only take a moment. So he got up rather wearily and went along with his boss.

The company headquarters were situated high up on the top floor of a Georgian building that overlooked the Strand in central London. Tom's plush office faced out onto a scene of pedestrians rushing to get home from work as traffic congested to a near standstill.

When they were inside and Tom had closed the door he asked Dennis the all-important question.

'How's the contract going, Dennis?' Tom didn't have to specify which contract he was referring to. There was only one deal as big as the Futura Energy deal.

Dennis took a while to answer.

'Oh... well, you see...' He hesitated. Sweat was forming in beads on his brow. Tom got an uneasy feeling. 'Actually Tom,' he said. 'I've been meaning to talk to you about this.' His accent was strongly Southern Irish. 'I'm afraid it's not looking so good for us.'

Tom rounded on him. Standing at a couple of inches over six foot, he towered over the short, balding figure of Dennis Curran.

'I thought you told me it was coming along just fine?' His tone was challenging.

'Things have changed,' said Dennis.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah,' said Dennis. 'I'm afraid so... and I don't think it's going to happen now.'

That was when Tom lost it.

'For fuck's sake!' he barked. 'I don't fucking believe this!'

Dennis thought his boss looked ready to punch him. He took a cautious backward step.

Tom was fuming. Dennis ought to have known better. He should have told him as soon as there was any sniff of a hiccup in the contract negotiations. This deal was too big to play around with.

'I just can't believe this,' said Tom. He kneaded his forehead with his fist. 'Why haven't you told me about this?'

'I thought I had it all in hand, that's why,' said Dennis.

If Tom could have intervened personally at an early stage it might have made all the difference. The company stood to lose half a million if the deal didn't fly.

'You are fucking unbelievable,' Tom bellowed. 'Unbelievable! You hear me?'

Dennis grimaced. It was insulting, demeaning even, for a man to have to stand there like this and be shouted at. But Dennis knew he had no choice with Tom but to take his medicine.

'How can you have been so fucking moronic not to say anything?' Tom demanded.

Dennis shrugged.

It was bad enough losing the contract but not even knowing about it until now was what infuriated Tom. He just couldn't believe one of his own team, especially Dennis, would keep him in the dark over something so important.

'You told me everything was fine,' said Tom, 'and I believed you.' He glared with cold grey eyes as he went on ranting. 'All this time you've cruised along leaving me out of the loop and meanwhile this fucking contract is going down like the fucking titanic. You must be fucking incandescent.'

'Look,' said Dennis, holding his hands out at his sides. 'It's just that Futura Energy weren't willing to offer a very good price for the product so I started taking a harder line with them,' Dennis explained. 'Only now it sounds like they might be looking elsewhere.'

Tom paced back and forth as Dennis continued to offer explanations, or were they excuses? But he was hardly listening now. He was remembering all those times he could have justifiably sacked Dennis for his various calamities but stuck by him. Now he was cursing himself for not having gotten rid of the incompetent dickhead.

'Just fucking shut it, will you?' Tom snapped, cutting across Dennis. The little Irishman had been trying to discuss a few options that he felt might be available to them. But just then Tom couldn't imagine a more annoying sound in the world than his wispy, singsong dialect.

'Just for a minute. Put a sock in it.'

Dennis waited.

Tom wondered if he should fire the man there and then. It was a tempting thought. But maybe he ought to think it over until the morning. He didn't like to take impulsive decisions if he could help it, no matter how strongly he felt about something. Tom was self-aware enough to realise that sometimes he allowed his head to be ruled by his heart. In the morning he could call Dennis back to his office first thing and have it out with him -- find out just how badly the bastard had fucked up or whether anything was salvageable.

Dennis glanced nervously at his watch.

'Look, I'm sorry Tom but you said this was going to be quick.'

Tom flashed a look of venom at him. 'Go on then. Fuck off why don't you,' he shouted. 'I mean it's not as if this is very important anyway.'

Dennis' face flushed with annoyance but he thought better of uttering any kind of retort. He turned to leave and was almost at the door when he paused and looked back over his shoulder at Tom.

'Don't go doing anything rash over this,' he said.

Tom was ready to start bellowing again but he found himself somewhat taken aback by the cryptic warning from his subordinate. He stood with his fist pressed against his brow, gathering his thoughts. There was one more thing though.

Dennis was back at his desk collecting some belongings together when Tom stuck his head around the door.

'Hey Dennis,' he shouted. 'Make sure I can get hold of you this evening. We might need to talk.' There was a pointed meaning behind this.

Dennis looked up but didn't say anything. He slung his bag over his shoulder and marched on out of the building. Tom watched him go.

'Fucking moron,' he said under his breath.

The only other desk that was still occupied in the open plan office space was Sophie's. The flare of red hair was hard to miss over the top of her computer screen. She worked as Tom's PA and hers was the desk closest to his office. Tom sensed her watching him and glanced across in her direction but she looked away when he caught her eye.

'What are you still doing here?' he asked her.

'Oh, you know me,' she said.

But Tom didn't really.

'I know it's late but do you think you could fetch me a coffee?' he asked.

Sophie obligingly got up and went to the kitchenette to make Tom his coffee - black and strong, no sugar. As she worked she was thinking about what had just been going on behind the closed door of Tom's office. She'd heard rumours that Dennis was having difficulties with the Futura Energy contract. There wasn't much that went on in the office that she didn't know about and the stuff she didn't know about probably wasn't worth her time anyway. From the sounds of shouting coming from his office she'd figured that Tom must have finally had it out with Dennis.

Tom easily lost his temper with his employees. He was a man of exacting standards. Sophie anticipated that Dennis would get fired in the morning. That was what usually happened in such circumstances.

The odd thing was that she'd only just been wondering whether to tell Tom herself that the Futura contract looked to be in trouble. It might have won her Tom's approval but in the end she decided she didn't want to go behind a colleague's back. That sort of thing could blemish your reputation in the workplace. Besides, she knew Dennis was the sort of man to front-up eventually. It's just a shame he hadn't spoken with Tom before being called out on the matter.

She carried the mug of coffee back to Tom's office. He didn't even look up at her when she placed it on the desk in his office.

'Anything I can do for you?' she offered.

Tom answered that there wasn't and glanced at his watch. It was past six.

'Shouldn't you get yourself on out of here?' he said. 'It's late.'

'Yeah, I guess so,' Sophie sighed.

She gave her boss one last look before leaving. He was hunched over the screen of his laptop, a concerned look on his face. She wanted to go over and put her hands on his shoulders and tell him that it would be alright. After all, Tom Ridgeway always had a way of putting things to rights. But she thought better of it and left him to it. Besides, she needed to get a move on. She had another date to get to that evening.

On current form however Sophie hardly felt these dates were worth bothering with. Some friends of hers had persuaded her to sign up to this mobile dating app - a move that she considered close to desperation. But she'd gone along with it after listening to their arguments, a decision she questioned now after a series of disastrous encounters. The last guy she'd dated as a result of the app's matchmaking had turned out to be married. The one before that had been a total asshole. So it was fair to say that she didn't have high hopes for the evening ahead.

In any case, the one man she truly would have liked to be with was the one she was leaving behind to an evening of work in the office.

***

Later that evening as Sophie was hearing all about Mark's hobby of military re-enactments, Tom came to a decision. He'd been going through the company's financial forecasts and come to the realisation that the Futura Energy deal was more crucial to their prospects than he'd dared think.

He made up his mind. He'd had it with Dennis. The man was going to get sacked before the day was out. This time it couldn't wait until the morning. This time he was making an exception to his normal practice of always sleeping on an important decision. If he had to come to work the next day and see that balding little Irish man in his shabby grey suit then he was not going to have a good time.

What he was going to do was this - he would give Dennis the boot tonight and then call an emergency strategy meeting first thing with all the other salesmen. He would promise that whoever could successfully plug the gap in the company's sales would receive a raise equivalent to Dennis' wage. That ought to get them working their arses off for him.

Tom got his iphone out and jabbed his finger down on Dennis' number. The phone went straight to voicemail. He couldn't still be on the tube, could he? But Tom already suspected that he had turned his phone off. That was the sort of smarmy dickhead Dennis could be sometimes.

He tried calling the number again and it went straight to voicemail a second time.

'For fuck's sake!' Tom hissed.

He opened up his laptop, found Dennis' email address and composed a brief message for him.

Dennis. You're not answering your phone. What the fuck are you playing at?

T

Then he had an idea. On his laptop he had access to the staff database file. In there he could find anybody's home address details or emergency contact. He tried the emergency contact for Dennis. It was his wife, Shannon. Tom didn't think they'd ever met but he was no good when it came to remembering the names or faces of people he'd met. In any case, her phone also went straight to voicemail.

So in the end Tom decided that the only thing for it was to drive round to their address. If Dennis Curran thought he could keep Tom off his back by turning his phone off then he had another thing coming.

***

Half an hour later Tom pulled up on an unfamiliar street in his black Mercedes. He checked the satnav. The house he wanted should be a short walk back down the road.

The evening was cool but he left his jacket on the back seat of the Mercedes and set off at a brisk walk. Soon he had found number 72. He rapped on the door and waited. But it wasn't Dennis who came to answer it. Nor was it Dennis' wife. As the door was pulled open Tom saw a pretty young girl with fair hair standing on the threshold.