The Justice League

Now I was expecting him to be excited about a symbol of the very thing he thought was coming between us.

"And what's the price Emma?

What did you sell to get a thirty grand motor? Your soul?"

I reddened. If only it'd been just my soul. My mood turned.

"Fuck you.

We'll talk about it when you're attitude improves."

It wasn't his mood or attitude that was the problem. Deep down I knew that, I just wasn't able to accept it.

"You just don't get it do you?

This is destroying us. You're not the same person. It's not the car. It's the whole 'I'm important, look at me' thing."

I glared at him.

"Perhaps you should go home."

"Don't worry. I'm going."

I watched him slam the door on his Ford and drive away. There it was. Another evening that'd turned to shit.

I was alone with my thoughts. At the moment I hated Liam being here. I hated it even more when he wasn't. And now I had two memories to haunt my sleep. I was in tears by the time I reached my door.

I had dinner with my parents on the Sunday. Dad loved the car. He had a Jaguar himself and I'd always said that one day I would have a nice motor just like him. Okay. His was bigger but I think I was there on quality. Just as many toys most of which I still had no idea how to use.

Mum wasn't that interested in cars. She was more a people person as mums usually are. And very intuitive.

"Liam not with you?"

"He's working." I lied.

She didn't believe me. I knew.

"You're usually inseparable."

"Still gotta save if we want to buy a house."

"Don't know what's wrong with the flat." Dad said.

"No bloody grass to cut every week."

I gave a half hearted laugh. He hated gardening.

"It's a lovely flat. Just that it's small. We'll need something a little larger. And I then I can have a dog."

"Still a dog." Mum said remembering I'd always wanted a puppy.

"I was more hoping for grandchildren."

"Get the dog. Less trouble." Dad smirked earning himself a slap.

"I'm not ready for a family yet."

"Well don't get too engrossed in work. Time flies. Especially in this day and age. Too many girls leave it too late because of work."

"Stop worrying. You'll have grandchildren. One of each. I promise.

Too many girls rushed into having babies early I'm not going to make that mistake."

Children before they were ready. It broke relationships up. My life was a mess and imagine if I lost Liam with a baby in tow...

"Besides, Charlotte can have children as well you know.

It's quite a common ability amongst girls."

I tried to push the onus away from me.

"And she's older."

"Your sister hasn't got a lovely boy like Liam yet. Lord knows why. She's twenty-five in January."

"Still young.

How is she?"

I haven't spoke to her for a couple of weeks."

Charlotte had rung. A couple of times. I'd ignored her just as I'd ignored everyone else recently.

"Always busy. Don't get like her."

Charlotte worked for legal firm. A good job with good pay. I wanted to be exactly like her.

Then the darkness descended. Was she fucking a hotshot partner in the firm to get on? I shuddered that my sister might be struggling with the same horrors as me.

"You alright Emma?

You've gone white."

Bloody mothers. They saw everything.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just need some air."

I stood outside the French windows. It was fairly warm in the sun. I could see dad had mown the lawn before I'd arrived. Probably the last time before winter took hold. He always moaned about doing the garden but he still kept it nice.

"It's tough when you start out."

Dad was behind me.

"Never mind families. Put the work in now and it'll pay you back tenfold in the years to come."

"That's what I intend to do."

"Ignore your mum. You've years to have children in, when you're settled."

I imagined two small girls playing on the lawn in the shadow of the apple tree that sat to the side. Or was it a memory of me and Charlotte. I couldn't tell.

"It is hard though.

Lots of things I have to do that I didn't expect."

"You'll get the hang of it. Do what you have to do."

Of course dad had no idea what I was referring to. Nor could I ever tell him. The horror would break him. Just another person I needed to lie to.

"The cherry tree has grown so much."

I distracted my morbid thoughts looking at the tree filling the bottom corner of the garden, blocking out the house that backed onto us.

"I planted that the day Charlotte was born.

And that apple tree, the day you were born."

He'd told me this a thousand times over the years. It was still nice to hear and he still lived the memory as though it was still the very days themselves.

"They've grown into two wonderful specimens Just like my two girls."

I smiled. It was nice to know he was proud of me. And of Charlotte. I feared I was letting him down.

As I left I looked at the house I'd grown up in. A classic nineteen thirties detached with wooden garage doors painted in a pastel green. It was a picture of suburban Englishness people aspired to.

It wasn't just a house though. It was a home. In my head it was what I imagined me and Liam living in. Husband and wife growing old together with two children. And a dog.

I waved goodbye and pulled away seeing the house in my mirror. Receding. Just like the cosy dream of my future.

SIX

My first week on the road was spent visiting existing clients, introducing myself, getting to know their businesses a little better. A lot of the people I met I already knew from talking on the phone as a clerk. Now I was putting faces to names and seeing the factories they worked in. Almost every first visit came with a tour where I saw our products being filled in giant bottling facilities. Everything from cleansing creams to sun tan lotions.

The bigger accounts warranted lunch with the buyers. I felt on top of the world handing over my new company bank card without a care in the world. Happy to punch my pin in without worrying that a statement would be dropping through my door. It was free money on top of my wages.

This was how I imagined the role to be. Long days driving around in the comfort of a new car, eating, drinking, chatting, then going back to the office sure in the knowledge that the business was rolling in.

It was exciting. I felt important. And it gave me focus. The uncomfortable price for my success was forgotten. Pushed away and buried, an unwanted memory I refused to face. But each night at home it came back to haunt me. And each time I realised the next incident was another day closer. Sleep became difficult and without a thought the bottles of wine in my cupboard slowly reduced.

It wasn't all plain sailing in the day either. Our company was a big player in the market. The biggest. But that meant for everyone else we were a target. Smaller companies with less overheads undercut us. Some had excess capacity and could offer shorter lead times and tighter margins. The nimbleness and overhead cost advantages that our competitors enjoyed couldn't always be ignored. Reputation and historical relationships were counting for nothing in a cut throat market as I was shortly to find out.

Liam came on Tuesday that week. If anything I was even more sullen than before. I hardly spoke. And when he came close or touched me I recoiled.

"You're not the same person." He said sounding somewhat rattled.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then come to bed."

All I could see was Mark when I looked at him. As though all men had become one and the same.

"It's too early."

"I didn't mean to sleep."

"I'm not in the mood."

He gave a frustrated sigh and I knew the argument was coming.

"That's just it. You're never in the mood. What happened to our carefree life Emma? We used to fuck all the time, sit around naked all day, and play games. When was the last time we had fun?

Now all you do is stare at your computer and push me away."

He was getting angrier. I remembered the games, naked twister with his cock waving in front of my face as I struggled to retain my balance and card games designed to get us naked. But now they brought revulsion rather than arousal.

"We're getting older. Perhaps we should just be more grown up."

"Older? You're nineteen. I'm twenty one. I'm not ready for slippers and a pipe yet."

I looked away refusing to meet his glare.

"Perhaps you'd be better off chasing Kelly. At least she'll offer you her arse."

I regretted that straight away.

"Kelly? Fucking Kelly. You keep bringing her up. I'm not interested in Kelly. It's you I want to fuck. Not her."

I stormed to my bedroom.

"Well you're not going to."

I slammed the door and fell on the bed close to tears. Why was it I could let Mark do as he liked to me but couldn't let my own boyfriend touch me?

I heard the front door closing. Liam had gone. Again. How much longer would he keep coming back if I didn't put out?

I put my head on the pillow and cried.

The next morning at work didn't go much better.

"Look Emma. You need to land that order. Otherwise I might need to ask myself if I made a mistake."

I stared at Mark. Would he really take this job away from me.

"Our price is too high." I protested.

"So offer them something else. Be creative. We can't afford to lose a fifty thousand pound a month contract to a competitor."

"You knew this account was in trouble when it was Mikes. Why am I the one carrying the can?"

"Because you're in the hot seat now.

Did you think it'd be a breeze? The job's tough. That's why it gets the big salary."

"So what am I supposed to do that Mike couldn't do?"

"Wear a short skirt and a low top or something. Flash your tits. I don't care. Take him to dinner and use what you have."

I blinked in shock.

"Are you pimping me out?"

Mark glared.

"I can ask Bob to take over if you're not up to it."

"No." I snapped.

"I'll sort it."

"Make sure you do.

Your arse in on the line with this one."

I stormed out of his office and ran to the toilets before anyone saw the tears welling in my eyes. I couldn't believe he'd been so unsupportive the very moment I needed his help.

"Everything alright?"

Melanie could see the redness in my face when I eventually returned to my desk.

"Yeah. Just that we're likely to lose the Burgon account."

"Oh. That's a big one."

"You'll pay with a big one if you lose that." Sarah piped up.

I could have killed her for that comment. I didn't need her accusations right now. She saw my look and stayed quiet.

"It happens." Moira offered.

"All the reps lose an account sooner or later. Then they win new ones."

"I know. It's just the sooner part that's the problem. Losing something that big weeks into the job isn't a great start."

For a moment I doubted myself. I needed help.

"Where's Bob?"

"In Factory One." Sarah said more helpfully as she rowed back on her insinuations.

"Thanks."

I got up intent on finding him.

Moulding machines are big noisy things. A constant hiss broken every few seconds by a crash of exploding air as the moulds released and another container dropped into the Trepanner machine for trimming excess plastic away. A short sharp buzz of a spinning blade, then more clatter as it moved on towards packing.

Then there was the constant hum of transport belts, the rattle of automatic stacking equipment, and there was the smell. Subtle but there all the same. Oil.

Operators, mostly in blue overalls, wandered between the Goliath's checking speeds and temperatures, making adjustments on the control panels, or clearing away fallen trimmings that might jam a belt.

One machine was in bits as two guys swapped out the moulds to a different product range. Bob was stood close by watching and I stepped carefully between the bags of master batch granules used for colouring the products to stand next to him.

"Can I have a word?"

I raised my voice to be heard over the constant din.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I need some advice.

The Burgon account. I'm about to lose it and I don't know what to do."

It hurt admitting I wasn't up to the task. A little of my self confidence died in that moment.

Bob didn't seem to see it as such a problem.

"Mike had lost it long before you came along. We can't compete on price. Nor should we. Business with no return isn't good business."

"I don't think Mark sees it that way."

Bob looked me up and down. Not creepily like Mark seemed to these days, just accessing me."

"Emma. As a rep you only have three things going for you when you enter a buyers office. Price, service and your personal relationship.

We can win on service and I've no doubt you can build a relationship damn quickly with a middle aged bloke. Who wouldn't want you visiting them every month."

There it was again. How I looked rather than what I could do. I knew Bob meant it as a complimentary asset but it grated where a month or so ago I would have giggled like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

"But companies are run by accountants these days and they only see price. Doesn't matter how pretty your face is, or how great the service when the buyers ring up, or how many lunches you buy them. It's the bottom line that matters to the accountants. They're the ones who actually make the decisions.

My advice is accept it and move on. Put your efforts into finding new business."

"Is that what you'd do?"

"Yep.

Go home. Put the best possible package together you can and send it in. If they don't accept at least you can demonstrate to Mark you've put a professional tender in.

Mark wont be happy. No General Manager is when they loose business. But he can't chastise you if you've done everything correctly. And in a week he'll have forgotten about it."

I watched the guys attach the new mould to a small lifting crane and manoeuvre it into place behind the open safety doors. One climbed inside to attach it. It made me shudder seeing him working under such a heavy weight suspended from a small chain.

"Thanks.

I feel a little better hearing that from you."

He gave me a smile.

"I see your work crossing my desk. It's good. And I see your dedication. You've a lot of promise. Just keep believing in yourself.

You're doing fine and I'll happily tell Mark that."

I nodded.

His advice was sound. Mark couldn't blame me. But I didn't doubt he'd use it as leverage to demand...

Oh God.

Liam reached over my shoulders grabbing my tits like his own personal playthings.

"Fuck off will you."

I elbowed him and pushed him away.

"I'm busy."

"You're always busy. That job of yours..."

I stared at the spreadsheet, desperately checking my numbers for that one missed opportunity which might save a few pounds. I wanted the quote in first thing Monday. One last roll of the dice.

"I told you not to come round tonight."

He was back already, massaging my tits again but I felt nothing.

"We haven't done it for weeks. You know that."

"Yeah. Well I'm busy just at the moment. Give me a few days and things will get back to normal."

"You said that days ago. And days before that. Just how many 'days' is a few days?"

He stepped back, huffing as he gave up.

"I'm beginning to think you're getting it somewhere else. How did you get that promotion anyway? Fuck the boss or something?"

"What? No."

My temper boiled over.

"Fuck off if you think that."

My face coloured and I looked back to the laptop just a little too quickly.

"Christ. You did didn't you?

You bitch."

I stayed silent. Nothing I could say was going to hide my secrets. Liam knew me too well. And I just wasn't that good a liar.

"Is that what you're doing to get on?

How far's it gone Emma?

I mean, is it just kissing? Or have you actually fucked him?"

"Don't you question my loyalty to this relationship. You're the one always ogling Kellys tits. And just what were you doing with her perched on your lap at the club?

Don't think I didn't notice."

Now it was his turn to colour up.

"Nothing. We were all a bit drunk and she just sat on me. That's all. Nothing else."

"You had a fucking hard-on."

"And you keep bringing Kelly up. Is that what you want? For me to go and see her?"

I saw a look on Liams face I hadn't seen before. It was as though he was having a revelation. Of a sorts, he was. I turned away.

"If that's what you want."

"Fuck this."

I heard the scrape of car keys as he snatched them up from the side table and I looked back in time to see him at the door.

"We're done.

You wanna shag the boss. Go ahead."

Two years of my life walked out on me without a glance back. I should have been sad but instead I felt relief. No more lying, no having to live two lives. No complications.

Liam had loved me and stood by me since I'd met him right after leaving school. My first and only boyfriend. The one I'd first given myself to. I noted that suddenly I was automatically tagging a qualifying 'first' to those thoughts.

All I could manage was a sigh. I'd give him a few days then go and patch things up. First I needed to land this contract and prove my worth to Mark. As a rep. Then perhaps I could get my head straight and sort out my other problems.

I went back to worrying about the Burgon Chemicals account. Right now it was more important than Liams little tantrum. If I didn't secure the contract for another year I'd be in Marks debt again. Quality and service weren't winning it and I had no way to compete on price. Bob was right of course. I wasn't to blame, but I was new. I had no track record. And even though it wasn't explicit in my contract, I was on trial. Mark could easily justify saying I wasn't up to the role and I'd be back answering the phone, or unemployed.

"Fuck it."

No matter how I looked at it the only assets I had were the ones Mark had so crudely pointed out. I could try flirting, I'd even try braless if it helped. It was about all I had left in my armoury. The only things Mike hadn't been able to try. But what was the point? As Bob had pointed out, the buyer answered to people higher who saw only the numbers, not my tits.

I gave up with work and checked the kitchen cupboard for something to ease my stress. To my disappointment the wine had all gone but I found a fresh bottle of Liams Jack Daniels hiding at the back. Taking it along with a glass I slouched on the sofa with the TV controller.

Some American horror flick movie was on. One of those where the kids split up to look for the rampaging killer. Whoever would think that was a good idea?

There she went, wandering off alone to investigate the creepy noise in the dark.

I watched the actress on the screen. She wasn't that great. A looker yes, but no Emma Thompson or Nicole Kidman when it came to her acting performance. She came over as wooden. Her face was pretty enough, and the director had made good use of her ample tits. They were pushing at a tight tee shirt with perky nipples with the clear intention of keeping a male audience in their seats. Oh, and the tiniest shorts for her long legs because that's what all girls wore when camping in the woods.

It was Hollywood. The home of the casting couch and I felt sure this actress had made full use of it. I shivered at the thoughts rushing through my head coupled with flashes of Mark's face. He wasn't bad looking I told myself. Before all this I'd been an admirer. He was important, powerful, someone I looked up to. But he wasn't someone I'd ever fantasied about. Now I was picking out his best features, intelligent eyes, a flattish stomach. His masculinity. Anything that could justify having sex with him.

I was nothing like that actress on the screen. Sure I had the looks, but I also had qualifications. I was intelligent and keen. Bob had said himself that my work was good. Yet the only way I'd been given a job worthy of my ability had been to open my legs.