Free Victoria Line, Central Line by Maeve Binchy Page B

meeting twice about new brochure ideas. Mr Edwards – or that buffoon Garry as she was now calling him – looked positively yellow with rage. He had tried to make a pass at her which she had rejected with amazement and something akin to distaste. Eve was full of praise.
    Next day Sara said: ‘The inarticulate man must have been Geoff. His things were in the flat, but I couldn’t bear to be woken at three a.m. with champagne and tears and all, so I bolted my door and didn’t hear whether he called or not.’
    Eve nodded in her cool way. She wanted to hear no more, not one word of Sara’s private life. Yet she looked pleased. Things were going as hoped for. Sara was now too busy to worry about Geoff, and soon she would be too confident to accept his amazing behaviour which was already a legend in office gossip. The new Sara would either throw him out or make him behave in a civilised way. Very satisfactory.
    The weeks passed again. By now it was already office gossip that Sara would shortly take over fromGarry Edwards. People who hadn’t rated her much before, were saying now that she had been holding back. Others said that she was always brilliant and that it was only a matter of time before it was recognised.
    Garry Edwards blew it. He tried to drop Sara into great trouble for one of his own mistakes. Unlucky Garry Edwards that he had joined battle with Eve’s filing system, the relevant documents were produced in a matter of minutes; quite obviously Sara had dealt with the problem, had recommended a correct course of action.
    It was shortly after this that Eve asked Sara to come into her small cubicle and go over the filing system with her.
    ‘Let’s do a test,’ Eve said. ‘Suppose you had to find Press Comment on Senior Citizen Campaign, where would you look?’ Sara checked first under ‘publicity’ then under ‘Senior Citizens’. It took her five minutes.
    ‘It’s too long,’ said Eve firmly. ‘Perhaps you should have a look for something every day for the next month or so. Just to familiarise yourself.’
    ‘You’re going to leave me aren’t you?’ asked Sara.
    ‘I think so,’ said Eve.
    ‘It’s not the year, it’s not even half a year,’ Sara complained.
    ‘But there’s nothing left to do, Miss Gray. We get you a new efficient typist, we both explain to her and to Simon what the routine is, you’ll be leaving shortlyanyway for Mr Edwards’ job, we’ll just make sure that any changeover here goes smoothly.’
    ‘Can’t you come with me, upstairs?’ Sara nodded in the direction of the promotions manager’s office. ‘Please.’
    ‘No, you can do it better on your own really. And it’s better for you.’ She was like a swimming instructor encouraging a bright but apprehensive pupil.
    ‘The office, Eve, how will I do up the office so that it’s like this . . . I mean I hate his furniture, I hate his style.’
    ‘You choose, Miss Gray. A few months ago you wouldn’t even have noticed his office or his style.’
    ‘Eve, a few months ago you know very well nobody would have noticed me.’
    ‘You underestimate yourself, Miss Gray. Shall I advertise for a secretary, I’d be happy to advise you on any points during any interview.’
    ‘God, yes Eve,’ Sara looked at her. ‘I won’t keep asking you but you know there’s no problem about salary.’
    Eve shook her head.
    Sara put her face into a bright smile. ‘In a few months I suppose I’ll get a telephone call from some bewildered woman asking me do I know Eve and can I possibly recommend her insane notions.’
    Eve looked solemn. ‘Well, yes, if you don’t mind. I should like your name as a reference.’
    ‘And I’ll say Miss whoever you are. . . Eve is not from this planet. Let her have her way with you and you’ll be running your company in months.’
    Eve stood up briskly. ‘Yes, if you think it was all worth it.’
    Sara put out her hand and held Eve’s arm.
    ‘I know you hate people prying but why, just why?