*****
It’s Friday afternoon; the absolute busiest time when every man and his dog are trying to get everything
done and finished as soon as possible so they can finish early for the weekend. With a constant stream
of deliveries, couriers and other visitors, I can barely keep pace with everything that is happening and
am beginning to think that I may have to call for help to handle everything.
And just as I am redirecting a delivery to the service lift instead of the staff elevator, the doors open and
in walks my sister Erin, makeup blotchy and mascara smeared. Very obviously she has been crying
and is not too concerned about showing it. Normally Erin looks after herself and is much prettier than I
am, but right now, she looks dreadful and I see heads turn as visitors try to divine the problem with this
out-of-place stranger.
Having sent the delivery man on his way, “Erin! What on earth’s the matter? What are you doing here?”
I try to hug her, lead her off somewhere quiet, but yet more visitors pour into the lobby, all demanding
my attention.
Erin stands in the corner, and I eye-point her to the coffee machine, trying to get her to look anywhere
except into the stream of visitors.
She’s all big brown eyes, and that mop of dark curls she has always looks huge on her, more so in her
elfin body. Whereas I am tall and statuesque, Erin is a pixie.
Working as fast as I can, I try to deal with the arrivals, channel them away to their destinations, but
more keep arriving.
Finally, I get rid of the lot of them and turn back to Erin, when to cap it all, the front doors glide open
and in walks Ben. Trying to maintain my cool. “You were told you’re not allowed here, Ben. Please
leave.”
“I want to talk to you, and I’m returning your bag. It was in my car that evening up at Michael’s place.”
“Yes, when you abandoned me and left me without even the money for a taxi. I’d have been in real
trouble if Michael weren’t a very decent man.” I snatch the proffered bag from his hand. “And you can’t
talk to me here. Even if I thought I had anything to discuss with you, I have no authority to let you into
the building. So, please go, you can see I’ve got my hands full, can’t you.”
His gaze finally transfers to the sobbing Erin in my arms.”
“Why’s she crying? What’s wrong?”
“As you already know, Erin’s broken up with her boyfriend. And, as you can see, she’s very upset. I
simply can’t handle my job, her and you all at the same time. Now Ben, please leave. If anyone sees
that I’m letting you stay here, I’m risking my job.”
“Too late.” comes a voice from behind me, grit in the tone.
I startle and swivel to face the lean-faced James, looking down at me, his expression austere. “As you
know, Kirstie, I gave strict instructions that Ben was not to be allowed in the building. Why is he here? I
don’t expect to repeat myself, especially to the most junior of our staff.” Then he peers around at the
weeping Erin. “And who’s this?”
I bite my lip. This is not turning into a good afternoon. “I’m sorry, Mr Alexanders. This is my sister, Erin.
And she’s very upset because her boyfriend just dumped her. I was trying to get her to go home so I
can see her after work.”
“Alright, and Ben? Why is he here after my specific instructions not….”
Ben holds his hands up. “Alright, I’m going. I’m going. Kirstie, why don’t you let me take Erin home for
you? I can make her a cup of coffee or something.”
I hesitate. Leaving my weeping sister in the care of this man after….
“Hey, what do you think I’m going to do?” he demands. “She’s upset because her relationship’s broken
down. You think I can’t empathise with that?”
Doubtfully, I ask “Erin, would you like Ben to take you back home?”
She sniffles, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Unspeaking, James pulls a handkerchief from
his pocket, offering it to her. She blows, loudly and gracelessly, then proffers it back to him. “Thank
you,” she says, her voice small.
James glances down at the used and rather moist hanky. “Consider it a gift,” he says, his voice
toneless.
Ben steps in. “Come on, Erin. I’ll take you home. It’s not so far is it….”
He wraps his arms around her, tenderly and walks her out of the door. “My car’s not far away. Let’s get
you somewhere quieter, and we can have a chat if you like.”
James’ watches him, shaking his head. “Just goes to show,” he comments, “you can never judge
people.”
“True.” I nod.
*****
My phone pings….
My bed smells of you. I wish you were in it.
*****
Several days later, I’m dealing with a party of school children, filling their entry forms, directing them to
the Public Relations section where they are to be given a tour of the building and a talk on the place of
Big Corp in the modern world.
A shadow falls over me. I glance up, and it’s Ben….
Again….
I sigh.
He doesn’t seem to be looking for trouble, having the kind of ‘freshly-scrubbed’ look that suggests he
has just had a shower. Also, he is wearing rather a good suit. And his expression is….
What…? Embarrassed? Shame-faced?
“Ben, you know that you’re not allowed here. How many times must you be told? I cannot let you stay
here. You have to leave.”
“Kirstie….”
“I’ve been told twice by James Alexanders that you are not permitted here. I don’t think he’s the kind of
man who will be happy about having to tell me a third time…”
“It’s him that I want to see, if he can spare me five minutes….” There is a kind of pleading in his voice.
Giving him a hard look, I tap at my phone, deliberately putting it onto loudspeaker. “Francis…. I have
Ben Summerford here. He is asking if Mr Alexanders can spare him five minutes?”
There is a pause, replete with unspoken comment, then “Hold on, Kirstie. I’ll have a word with him.”
For a minute or so, there is silence and Ben stands uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other, then,
“He’s on his way down, Kirstie.”
Oh, crap….
Am I going to be in trouble for this?
Again….
I turn to the elevator, following the indicator drop down from the upper floors. It hits the ground floor and
I watch the doors, waiting for them to open. Only as they part do I realise that my heart is hammering.
James steps out, giving me a sharp look. “Is the conference room vacant, Kirstie?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He head-points Ben to the door, then jabs a finger at me. “You too.” He does not look happy.
Miserably, I follow the two into the conference room.
Once inside, James swings on me. “I do not care for these constant interruptions. I have a job to do. So
do you, and I gave you clear instructions that this man was not to be permitted into the building.”
Ben interrupts, “Hey, James…. Mr Alexanders…. Please don't take it out on Kirstie. She did ask me to
leave, but I said that I wanted to talk to you.”
James glares at him, giving me a quick look that tells me our conversation is not finished.
He stands up straight, legs akimbo, arms folded staring down Ben. “And what exactly did you wish to
discuss with me?”
“I came to apologise.”
James’ head tilts, his eyes widening. “Apologise?”
“Yes, apologise….”
James stands silently, leaving a silent void, begging to be filled. Ben speaks slowly, almost slurring his
words.
He’s humiliated….
…. But he’s doing it anyway….
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