*****
Itâs 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, âErin! What on earthâs the matter? What are you doing here?â
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.
Sheâs 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. âYou were told youâre not allowed here, Ben. Please leave.â
âI want to talk to you, and Iâm returning your bag. It was in my car that evening up at Michaelâs place.â
âYes, when you abandoned me and left me without even the money for a taxi. Iâd have been in real trouble if Michael werenât a very decent man.â I snatch the proffered bag from his hand. âAnd you canât 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 Iâve got my hands full, canât you.â
His gaze finally transfers to the sobbing Erin in my arms.â
âWhyâs she crying? Whatâs wrong?â
âAs you already know, Erinâs broken up with her boyfriend. And, as you can see, sheâs very upset. I simply canât handle my job, her and you all at the same time. Now Ben, please leave. If anyone sees that Iâm letting you stay here, Iâm risking my job.â
âToo late.â 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. âAs you know, Kirstie, I gave strict instructions that Ben was not to be allowed in the building. Why is he here? I donât expect to repeat myself, especially to the most junior of our staff.â Then he peers around at the weeping Erin. âAnd whoâs this?â
I bite my lip. This is not turning into a good afternoon. âIâm sorry, Mr Alexanders. This is my sister, Erin.
And sheâs very upset because her boyfriend just dumped her. I was trying to get her to go home so I can see her after work.â
âAlright, and Ben? Why is he here after my specific instructions notâ¦.â
Ben holds his hands up. âAlright, Iâm going. Iâm going. Kirstie, why donât you let me take Erin home for you? I can make her a cup of coffee or something.â
I hesitate. Leaving my weeping sister in the care of this man afterâ¦.
âHey, what do you think Iâm going to do?â he demands. âSheâs upset because her relationshipâs broken down. You think I canât empathise with that?â
Doubtfully, I ask âErin, would you like Ben to take you back home?â
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. âThank you,â she says, her voice small.
James glances down at the used and rather moist hanky. âConsider it a gift,â he says, his voice toneless.
Ben steps in. âCome on, Erin. Iâll take you home. Itâs not so far is itâ¦.â
He wraps his arms around her, tenderly and walks her out of the door. âMy carâs not far away. Letâs get you somewhere quieter, and we can have a chat if you like.â
Jamesâ watches him, shaking his head. âJust goes to show,â he comments, âyou can never judge people.â
âTrue.â I nod.
*****
My phone pingsâ¦.
My bed smells of you. I wish you were in it.
*****
Several days later, Iâm 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 itâs Benâ¦.
Againâ¦.
I sigh.
He doesnât seem to be looking for trouble, having the kind of âfreshly-scrubbedâ look that suggests he has just had a shower. Also, he is wearing rather a good suit. And his expression isâ¦.
What� Embarrassed? Shame-faced?
âBen, you know that youâre not allowed here. How many times must you be told? I cannot let you stay here. You have to leave.â
âKirstieâ¦.â
âIâve been told twice by James Alexanders that you are not permitted here. I donât think heâs the kind of man who will be happy about having to tell me a third timeâ¦â
âItâs him that I want to see, if he can spare me five minutesâ¦.â There is a kind of pleading in his voice.
Giving him a hard look, I tap at my phone, deliberately putting it onto loudspeaker. âFrancisâ¦. I have Ben Summerford here. He is asking if Mr Alexanders can spare him five minutes?â
There is a pause, replete with unspoken comment, then âHold on, Kirstie. Iâll have a word with him.â
For a minute or so, there is silence and Ben stands uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other, then, âHeâs on his way down, Kirstie.â
Oh, crapâ¦.
Am I going to be in trouble for this?
Againâ¦.
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. âIs the conference room vacant, Kirstie?â
âYes, Sir.â
He head-points Ben to the door, then jabs a finger at me. âYou too.â He does not look happy.
Miserably, I follow the two into the conference room.
Once inside, James swings on me. âI 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.â
Ben interrupts, âHey, Jamesâ¦. Mr Alexandersâ¦. Please don't take it out on Kirstie. She did ask me to leave, but I said that I wanted to talk to you.â
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. âAnd what exactly did you wish to discuss with me?â
âI came to apologise.â
Jamesâ head tilts, his eyes widening. âApologise?â
âYes, apologiseâ¦.â
James stands silently, leaving a silent void, begging to be filled. Ben speaks slowly, almost slurring his words.
Heâs humiliatedâ¦.
â¦. But heâs doing it anywayâ¦.