Skinny Dipping (7 page)

“I’ll get in the pool,” Kelly practically jumped out of her seat. “I can sort of swim. I’d love to improve, learn properly.”

Bradley looked delighted. “You can’t swim either? Incredulous. Did we touch anyone with our advertising campaign?”

“Why is that so fascinating?” Sophie practically demanded.

“How is it that two people in this room can’t swim? Our firm did a ‘
Swimming is for Living
’ campaign. Didn’t you both learn anything?”

“Apparently about thirty percent of British adults can’t swim,” Kelly quoted. “I learnt that from the campaign. And I can swim. Sort of. Sophie can’t do anything. She’s got a phobia.” The way Kelly said phobia, it was like she’d said a dirty word.

“Well Kelly, if you would prefer to take the lessons, it would be a great opportunity to win work.”

“If Sophie’s so...
traumatised
,” Kelly emphasised the word ‘traumatised,’ like she was making fun out of her accident. Making up her fear. How would she like it if she fell in the water and struggled for a few minutes with no air? An event which was etched into her brain and even caused nightmares every now and then.

She breathed out, controlling her anger. “No, no..., of course I can get in the pool.” She looked down at the desk, struggling to stay in the seat rather than jump up, run from the boardroom and not talk about the dreaded swimming, and throw the account at Kelly.

Bradley beamed. “So you’ll impress me. You’ll make me think you’re worth not being on the firing squad list.”

Sophie froze, that wasn’t even funny.
Firing squad list. Firing squad list. Firing squad list?
What did that mean? “I’ll certainly impress you.”

“I’ll want updates. Loads of updates. So where are we at with everything else?” His voice was so smooth it almost soothed her out of the shock she was sitting in. The very unpleasantness of this whole conversation caused her to almost stutter the rest of her status report. “I’ve done a budget.”

Bradley nodded, and Sophie continued, trying to find her train of thought. “Of course, and I discussed it with Matthew at his flagship swimming centre this morning.” That was the point she was trying to make – this morning, she’d been working early this morning. Her head whirled with thoughts. She lifted a cup of water, took a sip. She was going to have to get in the water, learn how to swim, how on Earth had that happened? Yesterday she was rushing off to a gala night and today, everyone was getting made redundant and she was practically ordered to learn how to swim.

“We talked about ideas for the overall campaign and the products we can deliver as part of a full-service campaign. He’s right for the cash.”

“So what’s the business development angle, what have you got?” Bradley insisted.

“A digital campaign, obviously involves web design, search engine marketing, internet marketing using social media. A radio campaign. A television commercial which of course can also be optimised using Facebook, and made viral if it’s played on YouTube.”

“How does that service offering differ from last year? Where is the business development, I’m not focusing on our existing portfolio, I’m talking about new work, more cash in the door,” Bradley was practically shouting at her.

“Last year we did a campaign, ‘
Swimming is for Living’
,” Sophie spoke quickly. “The development in this business is that
Clarks
didn’t get involved in the digital side of his business. So we can increase our fees substantially in this area.”

“Did Matthew Silver sign up to all this? What do we have on the dotted line?”

“He signed an engagement letter, a contract for continued services, and just this morning, he agreed to all of that.”

“But it looks like half the staff have been …” She looked around the room. “Fired,” she said carefully.

“We’re a boutique firm. We all need to help out on every project. Desmond’s going to have to help on the creative side, like he would anyway. Harry with digital and Flora obviously will help us with words. All hands on deck.”

“I can help,” Jessica piped up. “I’m a student, I’m willing to learn.” She smiled broadly around the office.

Bradley shot her a glance. “Possibly. Is that all you’ve got? You went to the awards last night and that’s all you got?” He shook his head.

“Not quite.” Sophie faltered. “At the Advertising Awards I spoke to Tom Johnson, from Barney’s, like I mentioned to you a few moments earlier.”

“How’s that going?” Bradley folded his arms.

“I’m going to meet him next week to discuss a pitch for the launch of his new chocolate bar.”

“What about the whole group Sophie. The whole group?”

“This win, if we get it, the win’s worth two million pounds. We had great ideas.”

Bradley put up his hand. “Try for the whole group. I don’t like tidbits.” His eyes glinted.

“But the other products are stitched up by other firms. It would be impossible.”

“Impress me.” Bradley turned his attention to Harry, and Sophie found that she couldn’t really concentrate as he went round the room drilling each person about their new business.

***

Jessica practically extracted Sophie from the whiteboard where she was working with her team on Matthew Silver’s campaign. She’d gotten them started straightaway. Harry was discussing the different types of websites he could build, and the technologies he could use, the advantages and disadvantages.

Sophie’s brain felt like mush, because she really wasn’t a software type of girl, and she was totally absorbed in the technicalities, how to make websites more interactive. More importantly, she needed to know how much money
Clarks
could make on each product. Then what would be the best selling proposition. She needed to bring all the technical knowledge back to Matthew Silver.

“You’ve got to eat Sophie.” Jessica was beside the whiteboard, purse in hand.

“I know.” She turned to her team. “Let’s take thirty minutes, and then get back to it.” Harry looked disappointed that the meeting had stopped but relief washed over the rest of her team, all of them eager to escape.

It was a little cold when they went outside to their favourite burger restaurant. It had an American feel, and was Sophie and Jessica’s Friday habit. Greasy food. Burgers with the lot and French fries on the side. The meal was just enough to prepare them for any unexpected turn of events on a Friday evening. In the advertising culture, it was not unusual for colleagues to grab a quick drink after work. A drink very often turned into two, three or quite possibly even ten. Sophie would stagger home around midnight – if she was lucky.

Jessica ordered her usual burger and Sophie bought a salad.

“Since when do you eat salad on Fridays?” Jessica asked, eyeing her carefully.

Sophie shrugged. “Just felt like something fresh, she said. The fear of getting in the water with Matthew Silver was huge but she would also have to expose her body, both bottom and thighs in some sort of swimsuit. She just needed to buy the right one. She contemplated asking Jessica, but it wasn’t really the type of conversation to have with a work colleague, was it? She also wanted to lose a few kilograms fast, and the quickest way to do that was to commit. She could commit to vegetables – not to a man.

“This is our traditional burger day, to line your stomach. Kelly’s suggested drinks tonight, farewell drinks for the people who got made redundant.”

“There’s no one even around. They’ve all left the building,” Sophie said, incredulously. “How is it a farewell when they’ve already been walked out, they’re gone?” she said, without a shred of enthusiasm. “It’s just an excuse for a drink, really.”

“Touchy,” Jessica said. “Problems at home?”

Sophie laughed. “It’s all fine.” Sophie said, her voice a little shaky. The problem with Jessica was that she fished for information. She’d start asking one question which would lead to an answer, then she’d ask something else and before Sophie would know it, she’d spill her guts.

“I mean, Derek’s being the same. Just Derek stuff,” Sophie continued.

“I see.” Jessica bit into her burger, sauce dribbling over the side of the bun. “How did he like you going to the gala night? Was he happy? Mad at you?”

Jessica was frightfully close to the truth. Sophie moved her food around her plate, a little bit of lettuce to the edge of the plate, as she decided how to respond. “You know, he was his usual self. Doesn’t like my love for Jamie Oliver.”

“He’s always been jealous. He even hates your promotion, and anything taking you away from ‘Derek time.’”

Sophie nodded. “That’s the understatement of the century. It’s kind of cute I guess, he must love me?”

“Is he going to chuck you over it?”

Sophie looked up, seeing Jessica’s steely gaze. She felt a little unsettled, how did she always know these things?

“It’s not off the cards.”

“The chucking?”

Sophie nodded, her heart squeezing. She’d already been chucked. “Who knows? I might ditch him.”

“Sure,” Jessica said, but Sophie knew she didn’t believe her.

“You know, I got the strangest call yesterday. When you were at home, supposedly getting dressed and ready for the gala night.”

“Um..., yeah..., so,” Sophie mumbled.

“Well, this girl rang up the firm, looking for a Sophie Smart. That’s you.” Jessica held Sophie’s gaze. “Carol Cartwright. That was the girl’s name.”

Sophie stiffened, watching Jessica’s eyes on her, looking for a reaction. What precisely did Jessica know? Sophie tried to keep her expression blank, normal, like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Show no flicker of emotion. “Let me continue, this Carol, she asked if you worked at
Clarks
. You see, she’d just spoken to you, and wanted to call you back you see, because you were having a flat interview.” Jessica paused. “This Carol wanted to make sure Sophie Smart got the right directions, didn’t want her to be late you see, as she had an audition soon after you were supposed to arrive. Carol seemed most considerate, wouldn’t you think?”

A lump caught in Sophie’s throat. “Sounds considerate.”

“Did you see her room?”

“Got to check my options out.”

“So did you take it?” Jessica asked pointedly.

Sophie moved pieces of tomato round the plate, contemplating their redness, feeling violently ill. Now this was precisely why she always refused to eat salads. There was too much salad.

“Look, if Derek is being a twat, remember, you can always talk to me. Okay? You can stay with me if you need to keep your options open.”

“I took the room, I left him, only because he insisted I leave,” Sophie admitted in a shaky voice. “We better get back.” Sophie stood up, and threw some money down. There was no point hiding the basic facts when Jessica had already discovered the truth. But she didn’t have to discuss the situation any further.

***

After the awkward lunch with Jessica, Sophie made herself scarce on the office floor, avoiding Jessica’s questioning gaze. She didn’t want to be cornered, again. When five o’clock came, she practically fled the office to start the weekend without questions. Sophie skipped the farewell drinks with office colleagues. It felt wrong, since the people they were well-wishing weren’t even there. It was more like a macabre celebration, to thank Bradley, that they hadn’t lost their jobs. Sophie escaped the building, fleeing down the emergency stairs, a whole thirty-four flights.

Back in Highbury, her new suburb, Sophie popped into the local Tesco to buy groceries. Blitzing through the aisles, she cast glares of disdain as she passed the happy-go-lucky couples who were buying grog for their Friday night out.

Since Bradley was pretty much forcing her to go swimming, then it was time to face the consequences of her body.

She wasn’t overweight. She was of normal size and stature but there was no denying she liked to have a few drinks and go out to dinner, so she wasn’t a stick figure either. She did indeed have a womanly round bottom and flesh on her thighs. Her body hadn’t seen the light of day since she was a teenager.

Strolling down the fruit and vegetable section, she loaded up ingredients into her trolley to make a minestrone soup. Onions, celery, carrots, cabbage, potato. There was a particular recipe she had in mind, one from her Jamie Oliver collection. Wouldn’t Derek rage now?

A couple stood in front of her, their fingers entwined together, speaking softly, examining a piece of garlic. Her chest constricted, as a memory of her and Derek came flooding back to the week after they moved in together.

It was a Friday night after work, their first shopping experience as a couple living under the same roof. Derek was beside himself in the shopping centre because it was their first shopping experience. Derek, always so organized, had prepared the list, categorized by aisle. He then informed Sophie of his great plan, a spontaneous house-warming party. He’d already invited everyone, taken the liberty to text mutual friends for an impromptu party the very next day. He’d done all this without asking her.

An unidentifiable emotion had shot through Sophie. What about the people she wanted to invite to the party? She’d barely even moved in yet, and wasn’t ready to have a party.

Sophie didn’t cause any waves, believing she could do anything if she put her mind to it. Instead of arguing about not being asked, she focused on what he had done. He’d done a lot of organizing. She was sure his intentions of throwing the house warming party of the year were perfectly justified. So, she went along with it.

She did however mention, ever so carefully, that she was unbelievably busy with work. She told him that she had planned to work on the Friday night, and asked politely if they could hurry up the shopping.

A look of disappointment washed over his face. He seemed so upset and accused her that she wasn’t prioritizing their time together. Sophie felt a strong need to apologize and she did.

Instead of divvying up the shopping list, and both going separate ways to make the process as efficient and quick as possible, he insisted that they go together, they walk down each aisle. Just to make sure they didn’t miss anything they needed. That’s what couples did, according to Derek.