Read Online A Hopeless Romantic by Harriet Evans - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Harriet Evans
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Laura. She crossed her legs and shifted forward in her seat, leaning attentively toward Rachel. “What do you mean?”
“Is everything okay, Laura? At home?”
Laura felt as if she were in an episode of some teen drama on TV. “Eh? You mean—with my mum and dad? Yes, of course it is.”
“No, I mean with you,” Rachel said, her smile remaining fixed. “In your life. Is everything okay? No…problems?”
“No, of course not,” said Laura automatically. “What do you mean?”
“Your behavior…” Rachel trailed off, then gathered herself for the full attack. “I’m afraid we are all rather concerned about your behavior and the deterioration of your performance in the last few months. Laura, I have to ask you. Are you using drugs, or alcohol, in any way that might affect your work life or home life?”
Laura’s jaw dropped. The first thing that flitted through her mind, unbidden, was, How can you say that to me! I’m George and Angela Foster’s daughter! I’m from Harrow!
She looked at Rachel, whom up until this point she had always thought of as a reasonably sane person, and blinked. “No, of course I’m not,” she said. “Of course I’m not.”
She assumed Rachel meant using alcohol in a seriously bad way, not the four white wine spritzers she’d had the previous night with Hilary.
“This…this isn’t about the pay reviews, is it?” she said weakly.
Rachel looked bewildered. “No, of course not. This is what I mean about you, Laura. It’s absolutely not about the pay review. Laura,” Rachel said quietly, putting her hand out toward her over the desk. “We’re suspending you.”
There was a silence, broken only by the sound of the printer whirring outside the door. Someone coughed, far away.
“Laura?” Rachel said.
“What?” said Laura. “Are you serious? I mean—are you—What?”
“Laura, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do. I think you’re a great person to have on the team, and I’ve loved working with you—at least, I used to. But I’m afraid you—your—well, over the past six months or so, your performance has deteriorated so much that I’d—I’d—” Rachel looked down at her notes.
“Just say it,” said Laura, sitting bolt upright in her chair.
“I’d call you a liability.” Rachel looked up at her again, and that was when Laura knew this was for real. Rachel was composed. Cold, even.
“You’re late. And I don’t mean ten minutes late now and then. You’re consistently late, and you never explain why, even though I warned you formally about it three months ago.”
“But—” Laura said. It was true, she’d been getting in a bit later, but that was because Dan was working on a project at the moment that was nearer than before so he was getting a later train, so she’d wait on the platform to go with him….
“It’s not acceptable, Laura. You take long lunches every day. You leave at five on the dot. Your absence report is staggering—do you realize you’ve been off sick for twenty-five days over the past year?”
“I was sick!” Laura gasped.
“No, you weren’t, Laura,” Rachel said. “You just couldn’t be bothered to come in. They were all on Fridays or Mondays. What were you doing?”
Laura remembered the Friday morning in January when she and Dan had been on the train platform, and Amy had rung him to say her father wasn’t well and she was taking the day off and going down to Dorset for the weekend. They’d looked at each other, there on the bench in the winter gloom, and Dan had grabbed Laura’s hand, walked briskly out of the train station with her, taken her back to her flat, and basically ravished her all day, all night, and for the rest of the weekend. She smiled at the memory.
“Things…” she said carefully, trying not to smile again. Then she rushed on, “I know, I know. I know I’ve been a bit crap. But—it’s all going to be fine. When I get back from holiday—you know—oh, I wish I could
“Is everything okay, Laura? At home?”
Laura felt as if she were in an episode of some teen drama on TV. “Eh? You mean—with my mum and dad? Yes, of course it is.”
“No, I mean with you,” Rachel said, her smile remaining fixed. “In your life. Is everything okay? No…problems?”
“No, of course not,” said Laura automatically. “What do you mean?”
“Your behavior…” Rachel trailed off, then gathered herself for the full attack. “I’m afraid we are all rather concerned about your behavior and the deterioration of your performance in the last few months. Laura, I have to ask you. Are you using drugs, or alcohol, in any way that might affect your work life or home life?”
Laura’s jaw dropped. The first thing that flitted through her mind, unbidden, was, How can you say that to me! I’m George and Angela Foster’s daughter! I’m from Harrow!
She looked at Rachel, whom up until this point she had always thought of as a reasonably sane person, and blinked. “No, of course I’m not,” she said. “Of course I’m not.”
She assumed Rachel meant using alcohol in a seriously bad way, not the four white wine spritzers she’d had the previous night with Hilary.
“This…this isn’t about the pay reviews, is it?” she said weakly.
Rachel looked bewildered. “No, of course not. This is what I mean about you, Laura. It’s absolutely not about the pay review. Laura,” Rachel said quietly, putting her hand out toward her over the desk. “We’re suspending you.”
There was a silence, broken only by the sound of the printer whirring outside the door. Someone coughed, far away.
“Laura?” Rachel said.
“What?” said Laura. “Are you serious? I mean—are you—What?”
“Laura, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do. I think you’re a great person to have on the team, and I’ve loved working with you—at least, I used to. But I’m afraid you—your—well, over the past six months or so, your performance has deteriorated so much that I’d—I’d—” Rachel looked down at her notes.
“Just say it,” said Laura, sitting bolt upright in her chair.
“I’d call you a liability.” Rachel looked up at her again, and that was when Laura knew this was for real. Rachel was composed. Cold, even.
“You’re late. And I don’t mean ten minutes late now and then. You’re consistently late, and you never explain why, even though I warned you formally about it three months ago.”
“But—” Laura said. It was true, she’d been getting in a bit later, but that was because Dan was working on a project at the moment that was nearer than before so he was getting a later train, so she’d wait on the platform to go with him….
“It’s not acceptable, Laura. You take long lunches every day. You leave at five on the dot. Your absence report is staggering—do you realize you’ve been off sick for twenty-five days over the past year?”
“I was sick!” Laura gasped.
“No, you weren’t, Laura,” Rachel said. “You just couldn’t be bothered to come in. They were all on Fridays or Mondays. What were you doing?”
Laura remembered the Friday morning in January when she and Dan had been on the train platform, and Amy had rung him to say her father wasn’t well and she was taking the day off and going down to Dorset for the weekend. They’d looked at each other, there on the bench in the winter gloom, and Dan had grabbed Laura’s hand, walked briskly out of the train station with her, taken her back to her flat, and basically ravished her all day, all night, and for the rest of the weekend. She smiled at the memory.
“Things…” she said carefully, trying not to smile again. Then she rushed on, “I know, I know. I know I’ve been a bit crap. But—it’s all going to be fine. When I get back from holiday—you know—oh, I wish I could
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