Free Working Wonders by Jenny Colgan

Pendleton?’
    Fay regarded the rumpled chunky mess in front of her with some alarm. ‘Um, yes, but …’
    ‘’E’s a bastard.’
    Fay looked closer.
    ‘Is me!’ he expostulated.
    ‘Rosh, you know! Arthur’s bloody boss. Well, Arthur’s bloody ex bloody boss, bloody bastard, bloody …’
    Oh, yes. Fantastic.
    ‘Bloody ex-bastard,’ said Fay, allowing herself a tight little grin.
    ‘I recognize you … from the Christmas party … always fancied you …’
    What were you doing in the stationery cupboard with that poor Cathy woman then, thought Fay, but decided not to mention it.
    ‘Yes, of course I remember,’ she said, using the brisk tone one reserves for children and drunks.
    ‘Do you know … he bloody sacked me … bastard.’
    ‘Me too,’ said Fay with a half-smile. ‘I know how you feel.’
    ‘Really?’ He moved forward across the stool.
    ‘Not that much.’ She promptly removed his hand from the top of her thigh, where he’d landed to steady himself.
    ‘Can I buy you a drink?’
    ‘No, thank you.’
    ‘Oh, go on.’
    Fay arched her eyebrows, hoping he’d continue on over to the bar and forget he was ever talking to her. On the other hand, the article in Red was ‘Baby Massage With You, Your Baby and Your Ever-Loving Partner – First, pick your largest, sunniest reception room …’
    ‘You know,’ said Ross, trying to be conversational, ‘they’ve offered me the other job.’
    ‘What other job?’
    ‘ His job. In Slough. Same deal. BUT! Only one city gets to be European City Culsha.’
    She looked at him. ‘Slough’s a city?’
    ‘Yeah, it’s – it’s got an IKEA and six polyversities. Yeah.’
    ‘Oh. Right.’ But inside she was thinking that this might be rather interesting.
    ‘What do you do again?’ he said.
    ‘Personnel management.’
    He pointed a beefy finger at her. ‘We NEED one of those.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’
    Ross became momentarily distracted by a passing waitress. ‘Oh, she’s gorgeous, eh? I bet I could have her. I had this page three girl once. Well, I met this page three girl once …’
    Fay sighed and went to finish her drink.
    ‘No, no, right, you’d be perfect for the job.’
    ‘What job?’
    ‘Coming to be in my team, thass wha job.’
    ‘What, you’d give me a job just because I hate Arthur Pendleton?’
    ‘ Precishely .’
    ‘I’ll have a white wine spritzer, please.’
    And that was how, a week later, she found herself on secondment from the recruitment firm (‘ City of Culture ’ her boss had twittered, ‘ such an exciting opportunity for the firm … all those heads! … all that hunting!’) driving to start her first day’s work for Ross, a man whose tosspot qualities had been expounded on at such length and in such detail by Arthur, she was warming to him already.
    There was a summons.
    Arthur would be meeting the chairman for the first time, to have a discussion about the delicate financial situation.
    He hadn’t been able to chat to Gwyneth before he’d left the night before. Weighing up the balance of the evidence, he reckoned she was going to grass him up. He sighed. Sixteen million quid, and he’d be back to where he started. Or worse: they might sack him. Or he’d go to prison, maybe. No, surely not prison. Still. Nowhere good.
    Arthur looked at his forehead in the bathroom mirror. Was there more hair there or less? And where was the soap? By utter coincidence, ever since Fay had left he’d run out of soap, toilet roll, razorblades and clean towels.
    That is a coincidence, he thought to himself. He stomped out of the bathroom to iron a shirt, and immediately forgot all about it when he realized he was going to have to be eating cooking chocolate for breakfast again. At least something good was happening.
    There were a million other things to do. Or, of course, none, he reflected.
    For the first time, realizing that he might lose this job, he became aware of how much he wanted to do it.
    When he entered