Compaq that Penny had overlooked.
Penny blinked and, realizing that to ask if it was linked to the internet would be like asking if it was linked to Mars, she saved her breath and tried to remain positive.
"Well, if we get things a little more organized in here/ she said, walking further into the room,
"we can put a production table in the centre and find a use for all these empty desks. I take it they were once occupied?"
"In the early days."
It was as if Marielle was volunteering just a fraction of what she really wanted to say, as though the rest of it would only be forthcoming on demand.
Penny decided to give it a miss for now and wandered over to the high, 50
wide french windows to gaze out on the speeding traffic of the voie rapide.
With the windows closed the noise wasn't a problem, but no doubt when they were open it would be, which meant they would need to install airconditioning for the summer.
"What's through there?"
Penny asked, pointing towards a half-open door at the far end of the production office.
"That/ Marielle said, going to the door,
"is my office."
Correction, Penny thought, as she walked into the room: was your office. The desk was surprisingly untidy, given the neatness of Marielle's appearance, and the walls were sadly devoid of anything other than a couple of jejune front covers of previous issues. A computer terminal complete with its own compact laser printer was on a side desk and behind the grand, leather swivel chair a set of french windows opened out on to a large, balustraded veranda.
"And in here?"
Penny said, pushing open the door to a floor-to-ceiling cubicle in one corner.
"That is a cuisinette,"
Marielle informed her.
Penny nodded, looking it over and thinking they either needed a cleaner or must change the one they had, since the sink was a bit grimy and the twin hotplates were a touch too grungy for her liking.
"Well,"
Penny said, clasping her hands together as she walked back into the production office,
"as I said before, it's perfect. 1 take it those are more offices over there behind those two doors,"
she said, pointing to the windowless, north side of the room.
Marielle nodded.
"They have never been used/
Well, at least one of them would be now, Penny was thinking with relish, for in her mind she was already assigning whichever one he wanted to David Villers who, interestingly, hadn't even attempted to make contact yet, and since she had no idea where he was she considered that her own negligence in that area was
51
perfectly excusable.
Looking around again, she felt a momentary depression steal o$?r her as the hollow stillness and lack of human bustle made her feel as though she had been plucked from all the carousing hullabaloo of a circus and deposited in Shirley Valentine's kitchen. London had never felt so dear, nor so far, as it did in that moment.
"OK,"
she said, casting aside the gloom and pulling a chair up to one of the empty desks,
"we've a lot to sort out in the next couple of weeks, so let's start by getting someone in to discuss our technical needs."
Marielle's perfect brows arched as she perched on the edge of her assistant's desk.
"And what exactly would they be?"
she enquired in a supercilious tone.
"That's why we need experts/ Penny pointed out.
"Someone who can advise us on everything from airconditioning to computer graphics."
She picked up her briefcase and flicked it open.
"I have a list here of the kind of equipment and people I thought we might require to get things operational."
She handed a copy to Marielle, who grudgingly took it and treated it to a frosty-eyed glance.
"We are already operational/ she intoned.
Penny took a breath.
"For The Coast maybe, but not for the new magazine."
Then, without giving Marielle a chance to respond, she went on:
"I've had a rough blueprint drawn up of what the magazine might look like. The final decision will of course be taken after consultation with you and David, but you will
Penny blinked and, realizing that to ask if it was linked to the internet would be like asking if it was linked to Mars, she saved her breath and tried to remain positive.
"Well, if we get things a little more organized in here/ she said, walking further into the room,
"we can put a production table in the centre and find a use for all these empty desks. I take it they were once occupied?"
"In the early days."
It was as if Marielle was volunteering just a fraction of what she really wanted to say, as though the rest of it would only be forthcoming on demand.
Penny decided to give it a miss for now and wandered over to the high, 50
wide french windows to gaze out on the speeding traffic of the voie rapide.
With the windows closed the noise wasn't a problem, but no doubt when they were open it would be, which meant they would need to install airconditioning for the summer.
"What's through there?"
Penny asked, pointing towards a half-open door at the far end of the production office.
"That/ Marielle said, going to the door,
"is my office."
Correction, Penny thought, as she walked into the room: was your office. The desk was surprisingly untidy, given the neatness of Marielle's appearance, and the walls were sadly devoid of anything other than a couple of jejune front covers of previous issues. A computer terminal complete with its own compact laser printer was on a side desk and behind the grand, leather swivel chair a set of french windows opened out on to a large, balustraded veranda.
"And in here?"
Penny said, pushing open the door to a floor-to-ceiling cubicle in one corner.
"That is a cuisinette,"
Marielle informed her.
Penny nodded, looking it over and thinking they either needed a cleaner or must change the one they had, since the sink was a bit grimy and the twin hotplates were a touch too grungy for her liking.
"Well,"
Penny said, clasping her hands together as she walked back into the production office,
"as I said before, it's perfect. 1 take it those are more offices over there behind those two doors,"
she said, pointing to the windowless, north side of the room.
Marielle nodded.
"They have never been used/
Well, at least one of them would be now, Penny was thinking with relish, for in her mind she was already assigning whichever one he wanted to David Villers who, interestingly, hadn't even attempted to make contact yet, and since she had no idea where he was she considered that her own negligence in that area was
51
perfectly excusable.
Looking around again, she felt a momentary depression steal o$?r her as the hollow stillness and lack of human bustle made her feel as though she had been plucked from all the carousing hullabaloo of a circus and deposited in Shirley Valentine's kitchen. London had never felt so dear, nor so far, as it did in that moment.
"OK,"
she said, casting aside the gloom and pulling a chair up to one of the empty desks,
"we've a lot to sort out in the next couple of weeks, so let's start by getting someone in to discuss our technical needs."
Marielle's perfect brows arched as she perched on the edge of her assistant's desk.
"And what exactly would they be?"
she enquired in a supercilious tone.
"That's why we need experts/ Penny pointed out.
"Someone who can advise us on everything from airconditioning to computer graphics."
She picked up her briefcase and flicked it open.
"I have a list here of the kind of equipment and people I thought we might require to get things operational."
She handed a copy to Marielle, who grudgingly took it and treated it to a frosty-eyed glance.
"We are already operational/ she intoned.
Penny took a breath.
"For The Coast maybe, but not for the new magazine."
Then, without giving Marielle a chance to respond, she went on:
"I've had a rough blueprint drawn up of what the magazine might look like. The final decision will of course be taken after consultation with you and David, but you will
Similar Books
