The Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart (28 page)

The dial tone makes that funny noise and reminds me that I’ve had the phone off the hook too long. I replace the receiver before picking it up again in a moment of clarity. I can phone our IT people. They’ll be able to help.

We outsource our IT work to a company who I’m pretty sure work out of their bedrooms.
I’m always convinced that I can hear
Game of Thrones
on in the background.

‘Hello, Abi.’

‘Hello,’ I say, not knowing whether I’m speaking to Greg or Adam. The two are the same person in my head. Too much skill and glasses to tell the difference.

‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’m trying to locate some files. I did some work last Friday and now the files are gone. When I open InDesign and try and
open the source files from there it says the files no longer exist in their location.

‘OK, I’ll just take control of your machine.’

I panic for a second as I check my screen to make sure I don’t have Facebook still up.

Having someone else remotely manipulate my computer freaks me out. In a matter of seconds my curser moves across the screen like it’s being controlled by a poltergeist. It always
makes me feel violated.

‘What are the file names?’

I list them off and I watch as he does the same search I did five minutes ago. So much for the genius of the IT department.

I can see Pat the office manager taking the hot flasks of water into the conference room as the meeting time gets ever closer.

My cheeks are starting to burn and I know without looking in a mirror that they’ll have gone
all red and blotchy.

‘They don’t appear to be on the system, either in your personal or the shared drives,’ says the IT guru.

‘Well, can’t you fix it? Can’t you track them down?’ I ask, thinking about the stories I’m always reading about the police taking away hard drives and retrieving files that criminals wanted hidden. I’ve always been under the impression that it’s super hard to actually
get rid of things permanently from your computer.

‘I’m sure we can. When did you say you last edited them?’

‘Friday night, just before I left.’

‘OK, well the files are backed up every night, so I can just go to the backup files and find them.’

‘Great,’ I say, releasing the biggest breath and fighting the urge to tell him how much I love him.

The relief is immense. And it’s not a moment too
soon. Pat’s just walked into the meeting room with the fancy biscuits and the clock says it’s five minutes until meeting o’clock.

‘If you leave it with me, I’ll retrieve them and send them over this afternoon.’

‘This afternoon!’ I cough. ‘But my meeting is in five minutes. I need them now.’

Greg/Adam sucks air through his lips. ‘No can do. I have to access the server computer and then find
Friday’s directories and I guess if I did it quickly it would take half an hour at the very least, but usually when we recover design files because of their size they can take an hour.’

‘What?’ I say gulping. ‘This is supposed to be the twenty-first century.’

‘And that’s if the files are there.’

‘What do you mean if the files are there? Why wouldn’t they be there?’

‘Well, they were obviously
deleted, so if they were deleted before the back up happened at midnight then there’s no hope of getting them back.’

I’m back to the hyperventilating.

‘Look, Abi. I’ll give it a go right now and get them to you if they’re there as soon as I can.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, mumbling, and hang up the phone.

What the hell happened to my files? It sounds like we’ve ruled out the idea that me or someone
else has accidentally moved them. They’ve been deleted. What sort of a moron would do that?

I see Rick striding through the office on his way to reception. He gives me a nod of the head which he does when he’s off to welcome clients from reception.

That’s usually my cue to position myself in the conference room and put my boards up ready. Only today I’ve got no boards. I’ve got no designs. I’ve
got nothing. I don’t even have my Word file of ideas. I’ve never been so unprepared for a meeting in all my life.

I rise to my feet and look over to the back fire escape. I’ve probably got time to hot foot it down those stairs and out on to the street. But I can’t do that. These are
my
clients. The first clients that I’ve bought to the agency.

I’m going to have to wing it. I know what the designs
looked like, I’m going to have to try and describe them.

I force my legs to walk over to the conference room, but they’ve gone limp and jelly-like.

‘You all right, Abi?’ asks Linz, her perfect white teeth gleaming as she smiles.

‘Fine,’ I say, even though I’m anything but.

‘I’m looking forward to seeing your final designs.’

I stop for a second and stare into her eyes. There was something
about the way she said that that makes me suspicious.

What if Linz deliberately deleted my files? I tell myself I’m being ridiculous. She might be a peppy pain in the arse, but she’s not evil.

She pushes the door open and takes a seat at the large round table.

I’m studying her face to look for clues about my predicament when Rick walks in with the clients.

‘Hello,’ I say, standing up and planting
a fake smile on my face, hoping I can make up for my lack of designs with my winning personality.

‘Nice to see you again, Abi,’ says Lucinda, walking in, followed by Thomas who smiles warmly.

Linz bounces up immediately, introducing herself and offering coffee.

She does have her uses after all, because there’s no way I’d be able to hold a coffee cup straight enough to get any liquid into it
as my hands are shaking worse than a jelly in an earthquake. I’m sitting on them to try and numb them in a bid to stop the quaking.

‘Right, then, shall we hand over to Abi who will talk you through the designs. I’m sure you’ll be eager to see them.’

I see him looking round the room, noticing that neither the whiteboard is on nor the easel loaded with boards. I can tell he’s clicked that there
are no designs present.

‘Thanks, Rick,’ I say as best I can. My mouth has gone so dry that my tongue is getting stuck to the roof of it.

I stand up, hoping that it will make whatever I have to say seem more authoritative, as if it was all part of my grand plan.

‘So, I know you are all dying to see what I’ve come up with.’ I laugh nervously. They’re not the only ones. My hands haven’t been so
clammy since I slow danced with Russell Thomson at the year nine disco. I try and rub them on my jeans as discreetly as I can, but it only makes them quiver more.

‘Well, I’m going to be honest with you. I had done designs for today. Brilliant ones, even perfect ones, but we’ve had a tiny problem with our IT system.’

I hear Rick gasp, and I know it’s going to be downhill from here.

‘So, I’m
going to have to explain my concept as best I can, and then email you the files this afternoon.’

The look of hope on Lucinda’s face has fallen, and Thomas shifts in his chair. Rick looks like he’s going to throw the fancy biscuit he’s just picked up at my head, and Linz has that stupid inane grin on her face that makes me want to punch her even more than usual.

‘So,’ I say, realising that I’m
starting to ramble, ‘the idea for the concept is to subtly rebrand your logo. You want to position yourself in the luxury hotel market, which obviously your refurbishment allows you to, but your logo is currently a little out of date. We think that whilst you want to hang on to the word Vista, it would be worth rebranding as the Vista Boutique Hotel.’

Thomas and Lucinda look at each other.

‘Do you think we should really change our name? That would mean changing everything – all our leaflets, our website,’ says Thomas, sighing.

I can’t point out that that’s why they’re at our design agency, as I’m supposed to be on a charm offensive to make up for the lack of designs.

‘Yes, but I think if we get the branding right, it would be worth it. You’ve already done the hard work with the
refurb, and the rooms and hotel are looking fantastic. What you want is a design that really reflects the changes you’ve made. And as you’ll be able to charge more for the rooms, you’ll hopefully be able to recoup the marketing costs easily.’

‘And the refurb costs,’ says Thomas, looking at Lucinda.

I get the impression that he didn’t really want to make the changes to the hotel, but Lucinda
was right to do it. She’s transformed what was a tired old seafront hotel with pink floral carpets and peeling wallpaper and made it modern and fresh, with Farrow-and-Ball-painted rooms, Egyptian cotton bedding and twenty-first-century carpet.

‘We’ve been through this,’ says Lucinda. ‘In two years’ time everything, including these marketing costs, will be paid off.’

He sighs loudly and rubs
his hand through his hair.

‘I like the name, but what would the logo look like?’ she says.

‘Well,’ I say, feeling like an idiot having to describe my designs rather than show them. ‘I’d taken the colours from your new rooms. The deep grey, turquoise and the fuchsia. They work really well in combination. The word Vista is large in fuchsia, with the boutique hotel written in grey below. The turquoise
is used to highlight it and to give the impression of waves to represent what that vista is.’

I see the confused looks on their faces. Even I could barely follow that description and I can see it like a photograph in my mind.

Linz reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of felt tip pens. She walks calmly over to the flip chart beside me.

‘I saw Abi’s designs last week,’ she says. ‘They go
a bit like this.’

In the space of two minutes she manages to draw on the flip chart a pretty accurate rough sketch of what my design looks like.

‘OK,’ says Lucinda, ‘I think that could work. And you’re going to send us over the designs today?’

‘Yes,’ I say, hoping that Adam or Greg will come through. ‘IT are working on it as we speak. Hopefully I can send you something by the time you get back
to the hotel.’

‘OK, great,’ she says, nodding.

‘Good work, Linz,’ says Rick, patting her on the back as she sits down.

‘So that’s it. We’re changing the name, just like that? Based on some felt-tip-pen drawing,’ says Thomas.

‘Yes,’ replies Lucinda. The discussion seems to be over and we’re left without any doubt as to who wears the trousers in their relationship.

‘Right then, so once you’ve
seen the designs and approved or amended them, we’ll hand them over to Giles to get started on the website design, and Abi was going to mock up the leaflets.’

He gives me a look as if there’s some doubt as to whether I’ll be able to handle it.

‘Absolutely,’ I say.

‘Right,’ says Rick, almost through gritted teeth. ‘We will arrange for our photographer to come round and take photos of your new
rooms and the views, and could you supply us with the text you want to use. I’ve highlighted a number of key words from your project brief for you to incorporate.’

He hands over a piece of paper to Lucinda, who takes it, nodding.

‘Perfect. It sounds as if it’s all on the right lines, and I can’t wait to see this logo. Such a shame about the IT,’ she says, giving me a small smile.

‘Isn’t it?’
I say, looking Linz in the eye. It’s all very convenient that she was here, with her pens and her quick sketching, to save the day. I remember her coming over last week and peering over my shoulder, asking me questions about the colours, but now I wonder if there was more to it.

We say our goodbyes to Lucinda and Thomas as Rick ushers them out of the conference room. ‘Abi, you wait here,’ he
hisses as he leaves.

Linz packs away her pens and pops them back in her bag, before slipping it over her shoulder.

‘IT problems can happen to anyone,’ she says with a sympathetic look.

‘Yes, it was very strange that all my files were deleted.’

‘Deleted?’ she repeats, a look of shock appearing on her face.

I hadn’t realised that she’d be quite such a good actress.

‘Yes, they are all missing.’

‘Are you sure they weren’t put in the wrong folder by mistake?’

I love the fact that everyone thinks I’m some type of moron that would have done that or that that wouldn’t have been the first thing that I checked.

‘No, quite sure they’ve been wiped off the system. Luckily IT are probably going to be able to restore them from Friday night’s back up.’

‘That is lucky,’ she says. ‘Just a shame
that you couldn’t do that in time for the meeting.’

She’s back to smug, smiling Linz.

‘Yes. Good job you were here with your pens though.’

She shrugs. ‘I thought you needed a little help. Right, I’m going to get myself a coffee. Do you want me to put one on your desk? Sounds like you might need it after Rick is finished with you.’

‘No, thanks,’ I say, starting to really believe that she’s
to blame for my files going missing. ‘I’ll get my own later.’

She smiles and walks off, wiggling her hips as she goes.

I watch through the glass window as she bumps into Rick and he rubs her arm as if congratulating her.

‘Right, Abi. What the hell happened?’ he says as he walks through the door. It’s like he rubbed his good mood off on Linz’s arm. His face is like thunder and I have no idea
how I’m going to get through this.

Today started off so well. I was buzzing after conquering Snowdon, and hugely excited about wowing the clients I’d managed to bring in. And now look at the mess I’m in. Rick looks like he’s about to throw me to the wolves, and the clients probably think I’m an incompetent idiot. The only reason that I didn’t fall flat on my face is that I was rescued by someone
who is fast becoming my office nemesis.

I take a deep breath before launching into my spiel of the deleted files. It’s going to sound like I’m telling him the equivalent of the dog ate my homework tale. I was just starting to get back on an even keel at work after the disciplinary letter about my working from home stint, and things like this and the memory stick keep putting me back. It’s not
like I’ve got any more clients I can magically pull out of my sleeve to put me back in favour.