Soul Protector (23 page)

I stood my ground.

She narrowed her eyes, and
adjusted her position, sitting up straight.

“Janie, I’m going to have to
go. Someone’s just barged into my office.” She banged the phone
into its cradle and glared at me.

“Good morning, Camille.”

“Err, what time do you call
this?” she asked, thrusting her watch-adorned wrist in my
direction.

I ignored the watch, and held
her gaze.

“And what the hell do you think
you’re doing coming into my office uninvited. I was on an important
call.”

“I’m here to hand in my
notice,” I said calmly.

Her scowl gave way as her jaw
dropped.

“What? Why would you do that?
Have you got another job?

“I just know I can’t work here
anymore,” I said, smiling politely.

“Are you mad? This is a good
job for you, Gracie. You can’t just up and leave.”

“Watch me. And this is
not
a good job for me, Camille. I’m fed up running round
doing all your errands instead of getting my teeth into proper
work.

“Not that many errands,” she
defended.

I raised an eyebrow and carried
on. “That’s not all, Camille. What about blaming me for your
mistakes?”

Her mouth flapped open and
closed and her cheeks flushed with colour.

“What mistakes? What on earth
are you talking about?”

“Oh, I think you know exactly
what I’m talking about. The report you submitted and then blamed on
me when Donald pulled it. The one that cost me a promotion.”

She sat still for a moment. Her
lips were squeezed tight and her brow was creased. I couldn’t tell
if she was angry or upset.

“It was a misunderstanding,
Gracie. I
thought
it was your report, I didn’t find out
until later it was mine.”

“So why didn’t you tell me when
you found out.”

She sniffed and I was surprised
to see a tear roll down her cheek, leaving a pale track through the
thick foundation.

I shook my head. “I don’t
believe it was a misunderstanding, Camille. It’s the only feature
you’ve ever submitted, so you can’t have forgotten you did it.”

She blew out a deep breath, and
wiped the tear away, leaving a black smudges around her eye.

“Gracie, you can’t leave. I
need you here.”

I stood silent, waiting for her
to carry on. She indicated for me to sit down, but I ignored the
gesture. Then she took a deep sigh, and spoke so quietly I had to
strain to hear her.

“Okay, you’re right. I did know
the report was mine. Uncle Don needed a feature the day you were
off sick. I’m rubbish at writing, but I had no one else to delegate
to, so I did it myself and handed it in. I was already panicking
about you getting the writer position, so when Don went mad that
day, I saw the ideal opportunity. I blamed you.”

I shook my head as I
listened.

“I know I was wrong, but the
truth is I need you here to help me survive my job.”

With every word she spoke, I
felt myself tensing further. I placed both palms on the mahogany
desk and leaned forward, towards her. With great effort, I managed
to keep my voice level.

“Do you know how hard I’ve
worked? I’ve slogged away for hours, meeting every deadline and
picking up the slack from you, in order to get that job. It meant
everything to me, and you’ve screwed it all up by lying. I didn’t
think even you could sink that low, Camille.”

Her lips were trembling. After
I finished my rant, she pulled a tissue out of the flowery box on
her desk and gave her nose a delicate blow. She dropped the tissue
in her bin, and looked up, meeting my glare straight on.

“I’m sorry, Gracie. Listen,
please don’t jack it all in just because I’ve done something wrong.
Tell me what I need to do to make this right. I’ll do
anything.”

I was hoping she’d ask that.
I’d already planned what was going to happen next.

“Okay, there is something you
can do. You can go into Donald’s office right now and tell him the
truth.”

Her eyes widened.

“Everything? I can’t do that.
He might fire me.”

“And he might not. It
is
the right thing to do.”

She sat looking at her desk for
a moment, before meeting my eye and sighing. “Okay, I’ll do it… but
after lunch. I need to think exactly how I’m going to tell
him.”

“No, Camille. Do it now, or I’m
telling him myself.”

For a moment I thought she was
going to cry again, but she set her jaw, nodded at me and wheeled
her chair backwards to stand up.

I stepped back to let her pass,
and then followed her out the office. When I didn’t turn off
towards my desk, she stopped in her tracks.

“Err, Gracie, you don’t need to
come as well.”

“Yes, I think I do. Are you
going to knock, or shall I?”

She gave me a look of
disbelief, shook her head and rapped on Donald’s door.

His voice boomed out, “Come
in.”

Camille cleared her throat and
I followed her into the dark room. Donald always pulled the blinds
until they were virtually closed, preferring to work under the
glare of a small desk lamp instead of natural daylight. I noted the
usual smell of cigar permeating the air. I wasn’t sure if he had
crafty smokes in the office, or the smell just lingered on his
clothes, but whatever he did, the aroma was ever-present.

Never a man to give his time
freely, Donald took a deep sigh to let us know we were hindering
him as he peered up over the top of his metal-rim glasses. His
expression changed quickly from one of irritation to surprise.

“Good grief Camille, what on
earth is the matter with you?”

I’d neglected to tell her about
the make-up smudged down her face.

She looked at me and raised her
eyebrows, as if requesting an eleventh hour reprieve. I couldn’t
help feel sorry for her but I knew I had to stay strong.

Donald looked from Camille to
me. The silence that followed was deafening. I decided to give her
a gentle nudge in the right direction.

“Camille needs to tell you
something. It’s about the report you pulled the other day.”

Donald fixed his gaze on
Camille, who remained silent.

“Well come on, spit it out
girl. I haven’t got all day.”

She swallowed hard and looked
him in the eye. “Remember the report you hated the other day?”

“I’m trying to forget it.”

“Well, Gracie didn’t write it.
I did.”

I watched as he put down the
paperwork he’d been holding, took his glasses off and placed them
neatly on top. His movements were calm and steady, but as he looked
back towards us, I saw a tell-tale vein bulging in his temple.

“So whatever possessed you to
say it was Gracie’s?”

She looked at me briefly and
blew out a shaky breath.

“Because I was ashamed. I
didn’t want to take the blame, and I didn’t want Gracie to get the
writer job.”

Donald’s eyes grew wider and
his lips went thin.

“That, Camille, is
unforgiveable. I had Gracie lined up for that job as you well
know.”

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t
have done it. I’m really sorry.”

“Not good enough.”

He placed his head in his
hands, and massaged his temples with his thumbs. Camille and I
stood watching him in silence. After a while he dropped his hands
and made eye contact with me.

“Gracie, I owe you an apology.
I knew I should have given you the supervisor job all those months
ago, not Camille.”

My mouth dropped in surprise. I
didn’t know I’d been shortlisted for supervisor.

Donald sat silent for a minute,
tapping his fingers on his paperwork, before looking up at us.

“Camille, I’m too angry with
you right now. I need to calm down first, so I’ll deal with you
later. Gracie, the supervisor job is yours if you want it, unless
you’d like to be considered for the next writer job that comes
up.”

Camille looked like she’d just
been punched in the stomach. Her head turned as she waited for my
answer. I was still feeling sorry for her but I forced myself to
remember, she was the one who had been out of order, not me.

I looked away from her and
focussed on Donald.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m
handing in my notice with immediate effect. I’ve got another job
lined up.” I had my fingers crossed behind my back.

Donald sat up straighter. “For
another magazine?”

“No,” I said, smiling. “I’m
having a career change. I’d like to tell you more, but it’s on a
need-to-know basis.”

Both Donald and Camille screwed
up their faces as they took in my statement.

“I’m finished here right now,
and in order for this not to go to a tribunal, I’d like to be paid
for the rest of the month. Oh, and don’t worry. I won’t need a
reference. Goodbye.”

I turned on my heel and marched
out the office. I felt truly alive again for the first time in
ages.

As I walked through the
open-plan area, I saw Arthur sitting at his desk wearing a puzzled
frown. He got up and hurried over to walk with me as I carried on
towards the lift area.

“What’s happening love?” he
asked, looking concerned.

“I’ve just quit and dropped
Camille in at the same time.”

“Bloody hell.” He tilted his
head to one side. “Would you mind telling me who you are and what
you’ve done with the real Gracie Reynolds.”

I laughed. “Camille’s had that
coming for a long time. I can’t believe I’ve been her doormat for
so long.”

He smiled and squeezed my
shoulder.

“Well good for you, it’s about
time someone put her in her place.”

His eyes lingered on my face
and I saw his smile drop.

“I’m really going to miss you
though, love.”

I leaned in to give him a hug.
“I know. I’m going to miss you too.”

As I hugged him I felt genuine
sadness at the thought of not seeing him every day.

He released me and chuckled to
himself. “Do you think I should wait awhile before reminding them
I’m up for retirement this year?”

“Yeah, maybe now’s not quite
the right time.”

A groaning noise announced the
arrival of the lift and the doors screeched open, inviting me
in.

“Bye, Gracie, you stay in touch
love,” he said, patting me on the back.

“I will, I promise.”

I breezed back out through
Reception. Nisha was away from the desk, and she was going to be
fuming when she realised she’d missed my grand exit. As I walked
out into the sunshine a great big smile plastered itself onto my
face.

~~~

CHAPTER 18

.

Sisters

.

After the initial euphoria
faded, I had a wobble, wondering if quitting my job had been the
right thing to do. Sure Camille had stitched me up, but then Donald
had offered me a promotion on the spot and I’d chucked it back in
his face. I couldn’t believe I’d been so reckless. I had rent and
bills to pay and ditching my job in a fit of temper was a luxury I
couldn’t afford. Still, it was too late to go crawling back.

I was sat on the sofa googling
writing jobs on my laptop, when the intercom buzzed. I plopped the
computer down on a cushion, and made my way over.

“Hello.”

“Hi Gracie, it’s me, Michelle.
Can you please let me in?”

I took a deep breath and pushed
the release button. I walked across to open the door, crossed my
arms and waited for her to make it up the stairs.

“Hi, how are you?” she asked.
She was wearing a knitted dress, black leggings and a nervous
smile.

I heaved a sigh. “Hello,
Michelle. Come in.”

We walked through to the living
room and she looked grateful when I offered coffee.

I reappeared with the mugs, and
saw she’d made herself at home. She was curled up on the sofa,
cocooned by several cushions, studying my laptop.

“Hey, are you looking for a new
job?” she asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen.

“Yeah, well, I’m sort of
in-between positions at the moment,” I said, putting the mugs down
on the side-table and taking the laptop out of her hands.

“Really? Mum told me you were
holding out for a promotion at Elevate.”

“I was. Someone else got
it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,”
she said, and raised her hand awkwardly to rub my arm.

God, what sort of a monster am
I? My own sister scared to touch me.

“So have you found anything you
want to apply for?” she asked, forcing an air of breeziness.

I shook my head. “There aren’t
any decent writer jobs out there, not without proper qualifications
anyway. I saw some freelance work, but I don’t think I’d make
enough to pay the rent on this place.”

She peered around the tiny
living room. “So, have you thought what other jobs you could
do?”

“Yeah, dogs-bodying for other
people like my old job, I guess.”

“Don’t tell me you actually
enjoy doing that?”

I wrinkled my nose.

She studied me and smiled. “You
know what? I think you’d be good at counselling, like Mum.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why on
earth do you think that?”

“Because you’re really, really
good at helping people with their problems.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You don’t know how much
I’ve missed you, Gracie. You’re normally the first person I turn to
in a crisis, whether its money problems, or boyfriend trouble…” She
stopped talking and her words hung in the air.

We looked at each other, unsure
what to say as the atmosphere turned awkward. After a moment, her
face crumpled, and she squeezed her eyelids shut. When she began
talking again, her voice came out all wobbly.

“I can’t believe how much I’ve
screwed everything up.”

She opened her eyes and her
mascara had smudged underneath. “I know how much I’ve hurt you,
Gracie. What kills me is, if it was the other way round, you’d have
told him to get lost.”