The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic

'Well, that would be fine by me,' I say, trying not to sound too joyful. 'I mean, I'd miss the futures – but then, banking's good too, isn't it?'

Jill laughs. I think she thinks I'm joking or something.

'The client is a triple-A rated foreign bank, looking for a new recruit in the London arm of their debt financing division.'

'Right,' I say intelligently.

'I don't know whether you're familiar with the principles of European back-to-back arbitrage?'

'Absolutely,' I say confidently. 'I wrote an article on that very subject last year.'

What was that word, again? Arbi-something.

'Obviously I'm not trying to rush you into any decision,' she says, 'but if you do want a change of career, I'd say this would be perfect for you. There'd be an interview, of course, but I can't see any problems there.' She smiles at me. 'And we'll be able to negotiate you a very attractive package.'

'Really?' Suddenly I can't quite breathe. She's going to negotiate an attractive package. For me!

'Oh yes,' says Jill. 'Well, you must realize you're a bit of a one-off.' She gives me a confidential smile. 'You know, when your CV came through yesterday, I actually whooped! I mean, the coincidence!'

'Absolutely,' I say, beaming at her. God, this is fantastic. This is a bloody dream come true… I'm going to be a banker! And not just any old banker – a triple-A rated banker!

'So,' says Jill casually. 'Shall we go and meet your new employer?'

'What?' I say in astonishment, and a little smile spreads over her face.

'I didn't want to tell you until I'd met you – but the recruitment director of Bank of Helsinki is over here for a meeting with our managing director. I just know he's going to love you. We can have the whole thing wrapped up by this afternoon!'

'Excellent!' I say, and get to my feet. Hahaha! I'm going to be a banker!

It's only as we're halfway down the corridor that her words begin to impinge on my mind. Bank of Helsinki. Bank of Helsinki. That doesn't mean… Surely she doesn't think…

'I can't wait to hear the two of you talking away in Fi

Oh my God. Oh my God. No.

'But then, my languages have always been hopeless,' she adds comfortably. 'I'm not talented in that department. Not like you!'

I flash her a little smile, and keep walking, without missing a step. But my heart's thumping and I can hardly breathe. Shit. What am I going to do? What the fuck am I going to do?

We turn a corner and begin to walk calmly down another corridor. And I'm doing pretty well. As long as we just keep walking, I'm OK.

'Was Fi

'Not that hard,' I hear myself saying in a scratchy voice. 'My… my father's half-Fi

'Yes, I thought it must be something like that,' says Jill. 'I mean, it's not the sort of thing you learn at school, is it?' And she gives a jolly little laugh.

It's all right for her, I think savagely. She's not the one being led to her death. Oh God, this is terrible. People keep passing us and glancing at me and smiling, as if to say, 'So that's the Fi

Why did I put I was fluent in Fi

'All right?' says Jill. 'Not nervous?'

'Oh no!' I say at once, and force a grin onto my face. 'Of course I'm not nervous!'

He'll just say 'Hall' or whatever it is, and I'll say 'Hall' back, and then before he can say anything else, I'll quickly say, 'You know, my technical Fi

'Nearly there,' says Jill, and smiles at me.

'Good,' I say brightly, and clasp my sweaty hand more tightly round my briefcase handle. Oh God. Please save me from this. Please…

'Here we are!' she says, and stops at a door marked CONFERENCE ROOM. She knocks twice, then pushes it open. There's a roomful of people sitting round a table, and they all turn to look at me.

'Jan Virtanen,' she says. 'I'd like you to meet Rebecca Bloomwood.'

A bearded man rises from his chair, gives me a huge smile and extends his hand.

'Neiti Bloomwood,' he says cheerfully. 'On oikein hauska tavata. Pitiik paikkansa etti teilli on jonkin lainen yhteys Suomeen?'

I stare speechlessly at him, feeling my face turn red.

Everyone in the room is waiting for me to answer.

'I… erm..'. erm… Halla!' I lift my hand in a friendly little wave, and smile around the room. But nobody smiles back.

'Erm… I've just got to…' I start backing away. 'Just got to…'

And I turn. And I run.

Eleven

As I arrive back down in the foyer, I'm panting slightly. Which is not surprising, since I've just run about a half-marathon along endless corridors, trying to get out of this place. I descend the final flight of stairs (couldn't risk the lifts in case the Fi

I don't look right and I don't look left. I don't think about the fact that I've just completely shredded any chances I had of becoming a top City banker. All I can think about is getting to that glass door and getting outside before anyone can…

'Rebecca!' comes a voice behind my head, and I freeze. Shit. They've got me.

'Halla!' I gulp, turning round. 'Haill… Oh. Hell… Hello.'

It's Luke Brandon.

It's Luke Brandon, standing right in front of me, looking down at me with that strange stare he always seems to have.

'This isn't the sort of place I would have expected to meet you', he says. 'You re not after a City job, are you'.

And why shouldn't I be? Doesn't he think I'm clever enough?

'Actually,' I say haughtily, 'I'm thinking of a change of career. Maybe into foreign banking. Or futures broking.'

'Really?' he says. 'That's a shame.'

A shame? What does that mean? Why is it a shame As I look up at him, his dark eyes meet mine, and I feel a little flicker, deep inside me. Out of nowhere, Clare's words pop into my head. Luke Brandon was asking me if you had a boyfriend.

'What…' I clear my throat. 'What are you doing here, anyway?'

'Oh, I recruit from here quite often,' he says. 'They're very efficient. Soulless, but efficient.' He shrugs, then looks at my shiny briefcase. 'Have they fixed you up with anything yet?'

'I've… I've got a number of options open to me,' I say. 'I'm just considering my next move.' Which to be honest, is straight out the door.

'I see,' he says, and pauses. 'Did you take the day off to come here?'

'Yes,' I say. 'Of course I did.'

What does he think? That I just sloped off for a couple of hours and said I was at a press conference?

Actually, that's not a bad idea. I might try that next time.

'So – what are you up to now?' he asks.

Don't say 'nothing'. Never say 'nothing'.

'Well, I've got some bits and pieces to do,' I say. 'Calls to make, people to see. That kind of thing.'

'Ah,' he says, nodding. 'Yes. Well. Don't let me you.' He looks around the foyer. 'And I hope it works out for you, job-wise.'

'Thanks,' I say, giving him a businesslike smile. And then he's gone, walking off towards the doors, and I'm left holding my clunky briefcase, feeling just a bit disappointed. I wait until he's disappeared, then wander slowly over to the doors myself and go out onto the street. And then I stop. To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure what to do next. I'd kind of pla