Remember Me?

“Excellent!” whispers Fi by my side.

“There’s nothing for you, Lexi.” Je

“Everything. Come on, Fi. We’re late enough already. I need to talk to the team. They’ve been slacking.”

I stride away, toward the lifts. A moment later I can hear Je

The lift pings. Fi, Amy, and I walk in-and as soon as the doors close, dissolve into giggles.

“High five!” Fi lifts her hand. “That was great!”

We all get out at the eighth floor, and I head straight to Natasha’s desk outside Simon Johnson’s office, my head high and imperious.

“Hi, Natasha,” I say curtly. “I assume you got my message about my memory returning? Obviously I’ll need to see Simon as soon as possible.”

“Yes, I got your message.” Natasha nods. “But I’m afraid Simon’s quite booked up this morning-”

“Then juggle things around! Cancel someone else! It’s essential I see him.”

“Okay!” Natasha types hastily at her keyboard. “I could do you a slot at…ten-thirty?”

“Fantast-” I stop as Fi nudges me. “That’ll be fine,” I amend, shooting Natasha my meanest scowl for good measure. “Come on, Fi.”

God, this barking and snapping is a strain. It’s getting me down and I’ve only been doing it for ten minutes.

“Ten-thirty,” Amy says as we get back in the lift. “That’s cool. Where do we go now?”

“To the Flooring department.” I feel a stab of nerves. “I’ll have to keep this act up till ten-thirty.”

“Good luck.” Fi squeezes my shoulder briefly, and the lift doors open.

As we head along the corridor to the main office I feel slightly sick. I can do this, I tell myself, over and over. I can be a bitch boss. I arrive at the door and stand there for a few moments, surveying the scene before me. Then I draw a breath.

“So.” I summon a harsh, sarcastic voice. “Reading Hello! magazine is work, is it?”

Melanie, who had been flicking through Hello! with a telephone receiver under her chin, jumps as though she’s been scalded and flames red.

“I was just…waiting to be put through to Accounts.” She hastily closes Hello!

“I’ll be speaking to you all about attitude later.” I glare around the room. “And that reminds me. Didn’t I ask everyone to provide full written travel-expense breakdowns two months ago? I want to see them.”

“We thought you’d forgotten,” Carolyn says, looking dumbstruck.

“Well, I’ve remembered.” I give her a sweet, scathing smile. “I’ve remembered everything. And you might all remember that you’re relying on me for references.”

I sweep out, almost straight into Byron.

“Lexi!” He nearly drops his cup of coffee. “What the fuck-”

“Byron. I need to talk to you about Tony Dukes,” I say crisply. “How did you handle the discrepancy in his calculations? Because we all know his reputation for pulling a fast one. Remember the trouble we had in October 2006?”

Byron’s mouth is hanging open stupidly.

“And I want to talk to you about our a

“I’ll…get those to you.” He looks utterly gobsmacked.

Everything I’m saying is hitting right home. Fi is a total genius!

“So, are you recovered?” Byron says as I open my office door. “Are you back?”

“Oh yes. I’m back.” I usher Amy in and slam the door. I count to three, then I look out again. “Clare, a coffee. And one for my temp, Amy. Fi, can you come in here?”

As Fi closes the door behind her, I collapse on the sofa, breathless.

“You should be on the stage!” Fi exclaims. “That was so great! That’s just the way you used to be!”

I’m still cringing inside. I can’t believe I said those things.

“So now we just have to sit it out till ten-thirty.” Fi glances at her watch as she perches on my desk. “It’s past ten now.”

“You were a real bitch out there,” says Amy admiringly. She’s taken out mascara and is applying yet another coat. “That’s what I’ll be like when I go into business.”

“Then you won’t make any friends.”

“I don’t want to make friends.” She tosses her head. “I want to make money. You know what Dad always said? He said-”

Suddenly I really don’t want to hear what Dad always said.

“Amy, we’ll talk later.” I cut her off. “About Dad.” There’s a knock on the door and we all freeze.

“Quick!” says Fi. “Get behind the desk. Sound cross and impatient.”

I scuttle to the office chair, and she quickly pulls up a chair opposite.

“Come in,” I call, trying to muster the most impatient tone I can. The door opens and Clare appears, holding a tray of coffee. Irritably I jerk my head at the desk. “So, Fi…I’ve had just enough of your attitude!” I improvise as Clare unloads the coffee cups. “It’s unacceptable. What have you got to say for yourself?”

“Sorry, Lexi,” Fi mumbles, her head bowed. Suddenly I realize she’s in fits of giggles.

“Yes, well.” I’m trying desperately to keep a straight face. “I’m the boss. And I won’t have you…” Oh God, my brain is blank. What’s she done? “I won’t have you…sitting on the desk!”

A kind of spluttery snort comes from Fi.

“Sorry,” she gasps, and clutches a hanky to her eyes.

Clare looks absolutely petrified. “Um…Lexi,” she says, backing toward the door. “I don’t want to interrupt, but Lucinda is here? With her baby?”

Lucinda.

That means nothing to me.

Fi sits up, her giggles vanished. “Lucinda who worked for us last year, do you mean?” she says quickly, glancing at me. “I didn’t know she was coming in today.”

“We’re giving her a baby gift and we wondered if Lexi could present it to her?” Clare gestures out the door and I see a small cluster around a blond woman holding a baby carrier. She looks up and waves.

“Lexi! Come and see the baby!”

Shit. There’s no way out of this one. I can’t refuse to look at a baby-it’ll seem too weird.

“Well…all right,” I say at last. “Just for a moment.”

“Lucinda was with us about eight months,” Fi murmurs frantically as we head out of the office. “Took care of European accounts, mainly. Sat by the window, likes peppermint tea…”

“Here we are.” Clare hands me a huge gift-wrapped parcel crowned with a satin bow. “It’s a baby gym.”

As I draw near, the others back away. To be honest, I don’t blame them.

“Hi, Lexi.” Lucinda looks up, glowing at all the attention.

“Hi there.” I nod curtly at the baby, which is dressed in a white onesie. “Congratulations, Lucinda. And this is…a girl? A boy?”

“He’s called Marcus!” Lucinda appears offended. “You’ve met him before!”

Somehow I force myself to shrug disparagingly. “I’m afraid I’m not into babies.”

“She eats them!” I hear someone whisper.

“Anyway, on behalf of the department, I’d like to give you this.” I hand the parcel over.

“Speech!” says Clare.

“That’s not necessary,” I say with a forbidding glare. “Everyone back to-”

“Yes it is!” Debs objects defiantly. “This is like Lucinda’s leaving-do too. She can’t not have a speech.”

“Speech!” calls someone at the back. “Speech!” A couple of others start banging the desks.

Oh God. I can’t refuse. Bosses give speeches about their employees. This is what they do.

“Of course,” I say at last, and clear my throat. “We’re all very pleased for Lucinda on the birth of Marcus. But sad to say good-bye to such a valued member of our team.”

I notice Byron joining the cluster of people, surveying me closely over his Lost mug.

“Lucinda was always…” I take a sip of coffee, playing for time. “She was always…by the window. Sipping her peppermint tea. Managing her European accounts.”