Concealment (27 page)

I knew it. He was unveiling Plan C. Plan A had been to make me so insecure I wouldn’t dare delve into JJ. When he’d failed, Plan B had been to kill me. And Plan C was what?

‘I’m fine,’ I snapped.

‘Sadly I fear not,’ said Smithies. ‘Look at the state of you.’

I glanced at my reflection in the glass walls of his office—not a pretty sight. Only now did I realise I was wearing yesterday’s clothes, with unwashed hair, dusty from last night’s tumble. How could I have forgotten to change and shower? A lack of make-up and a wild, glassy-eyed stare completed the picture.

‘And since we lessened your workload, I’ve continued to hear disturbing reports as to your state of mind.’

‘From who—who?’ I demanded.

‘This morning Eric Bailey took a worrying telephone call from JJ. Jupp says he spoke to you last night and that, frankly, you were three sheets to the wind.’

‘That’s a lie.’

‘Amy—it’s useless to deny it. Even I noticed how much champagne you quaffed at the party.’

‘We were celebrating,’ I protested. ‘At the last do you reckoned people hadn’t drunk enough—remember? And anyway, I wasn’t drunk…’

‘If you weren’t drunk on the amount you put away then I’d say you’d developed a worrying tolerance.’

So I couldn’t win either way. It was unacceptable to be intoxicated and sobriety only proved I was a soak.

‘And if I was drunk, it was out of hours.’

‘But we are all ambassadors of the firm twenty-four-seven,’ he replied. ‘Particularly if you take a client’s telephone call.’

Perception is reality. You could be slated for being under the influence, but it was perfectly acceptable to cover for your brother-in-law in a drug-related swindle. Killing a colleague and colluding in the attempted murder of another were also tolerated, as long as nobody found out.

‘It wasn’t like that. While I was talking to JJ on my phone, a car nearly ran me over and…’

As he well knew.

‘I have to say I’m beginning to think your alcohol abuse may be at the root of your psychological issues. Your ex, Greg, mentioned you’d been hitting the bottle. He’s worried about you too.’

I hated the way he said “your ex”. Did he think I’d forgotten I’d been married to him? Or maybe such a vast number of Gregs were concerned about me that he needed to clarify which one he meant. The grins of the water-skiers mocked me as he continued with his monologue.

‘And Lisa tells me, in the strictest confidence, that you’ve not been yourself for a while.’

‘How loyal of her,’ I said. ‘After everything I’ve done for her, she goes sneaking behind my back grassing me up.’

‘To be fair to Lisa,’ said Smithies. ‘I did ask her to keep an eye on you, when I began to suspect you might be on the verge of a breakdown.’

It hardly seemed credible. They hated each other—why would they form this unholy alliance against me?

‘But you hate her so much you tried to hold back her partnership for no reason. Why would you suddenly rely on her except because you loathe me even more?’

‘Now there you go,’ Smithies replied. ‘The very use of such emotive and unprofessional language gives us a window into your mental state. And besides—Lisa has passed the assessment—how can you say I held her back?’

‘But you didn’t want her to
go
on the assessment,’ I reminded him.

‘I had no part in that decision, as I made clear at the outset. In fact I’m pleased for Lisa. And I’ve been so impressed by what I’ve seen of her, I’m contemplating a bigger role for her.’

‘Yes?’

I guessed from the queasiness in the pit of my stomach what he had in mind. And I finally understood what had lain behind Lisa’s aloofness—she’d sold out to the enemy for her own personal gain.

‘But we’re not here to discuss Lisa. We’re here to talk about you. And we cannot go on like this.’

No—we could not. It was the first statement he’d made I agreed with.

‘Now we do appreciate you’ve had a tough time with Isabelle and Ryan’s deaths, and your mother’s illness. But you’re not your usual self at the moment and as responsible employers, we must help you through this trying phase.’

This sounded suspiciously like the beginning of a firing or “asking for resignation” speech.

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘It may be helpful if you saw the firm’s doctor…’

‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ I said, desperately trying to regain control of the meeting.

But I could no longer hide from the truth. I was broken—after all the shit life had handed me, I had finally buckled and lost the fight. Despite my fear of ending up like my mother, a different kind of craziness had sneaked up on me while I’d struggled to be normal. And if I was too spineless to face it, I was as bad as my mother—in denial.

‘I’m afraid we must insist. So I suggest you go home, contact HR and consider yourself signed off sick until further notice.’

‘But I have to see JJ this afternoon, and there are some big events coming up soon, including the JJ completion meeting on Monday.’

I tried forlornly to keep up the pretence, to convince him I was sane and no threat to them. I so didn’t want the stigma of mental health issues. It would be the end of my career, the end of everything I’d fought for so hard over the years. Every day I’d stood in front of the mirror and talked myself up, but for what? At least my mother had succeeded in keeping her foibles hidden. Mine were there for all to see.

‘Please don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Everything will be taken care of. Lisa is quite capable of handling both of those, and if you let us have a note of any other upcoming appointments…’

‘Tell me straight. Are you putting Lisa into my old job? And don’t you dare lie to me.’

He appeared to be gauging whether I was strong enough to bear the answer.

‘Well, we
are
considering giving Lisa an early shot at a leadership role. Nothing’s been decided yet, but there’s a vacancy, for sure. I have far too many other responsibilities to continue in that capacity myself.’

I knew he’d planned from the beginning to install one of his sycophants as group leader. But to find that Lisa
was
one of his sycophants—a nasty, sneaky undercover one—represented the ultimate betrayal. I’d trusted her as a friend, dammit, but she’d stabbed me in the back while standing on my shoulders. And she’d had the gall to heap guilt on me for our cooling friendship.

‘Plus she has the confidence of the team—they tell her everything.’

Yeah—and then she tells you
.

Tears pricked at my eyes. I wouldn’t let the bastard Smithies see me cry, no matter how I hurt inside. I dug my nails into the palms of my hands, using physical pain to negate the raw emotional anguish. Little Amy never cried and I wouldn’t either. Where was she now, I asked myself? I missed her.

‘You could have asked
me
for information,’ I countered, battling vainly on.

‘Would you have told me the truth? I think not, even assuming you knew. Ever since I arrived, I’ve seen you becoming more and more isolated and suspicious of everyone. These are not signs of sound mental health as I’m sure you’re aware.’

But
he’d
made me paranoid—I’d been OK till he arrived, hadn’t I—or had I?

‘I could go on,’ said Smithies, ‘but I sense you’re becoming emotional. And I can see this has taken you unawares. Would you like someone to be with you—your mother perhaps?’

Enough.

‘You must be kidding!’ I screamed, so loudly that the people sitting near Smithies’ office all craned round to see what the commotion was. The dam broke and the tears flowed—tears of anger and frustration, rather than sadness.

And I saw it all now in the utmost clarity. No one needed to kill me for my knowledge about the activities at JJ Slate, because nothing I said in future would be taken seriously. I’d been totally discredited and written off as a crazy bitch. That was Plan C.

This was the end game, his final victory. I’d been so strong, yet he’d brought me down in a few weeks. And it was my fault for letting him spook me. That was the beauty of his strategy. He’d spotted my weakness and allowed me to reduce myself to this crumbling wreck with little intervention from him.

‘I’m so sorry it’s come to this,’ said Smithies, in the syrupy pseudo-sympathetic voice he did so convincingly. ‘I do hope you’re back to your old self before long.’

Undeniably, his final statement was true. For nothing would give Smithies greater pleasure than to see me sufficiently recovered to attend a firing meeting.

***

I composed myself in the Ladies for a few minutes, and when I stepped out of the stall the tsunami of emotion had passed. Then I noticed Lisa hovering.

Intuition told me she had a detailed knowledge of my discussion with Smithies, because he’d told her what he planned to do. Oh yes—she’d sold out to the enemy alright.

‘Thanks, bitch.’

‘Amy—what are you talking about?’

She put on her most innocent face, but I wasn’t fooled. I now understood the full scale of her treachery. She was not only a barefaced liar, but a liar who’d sneakily hidden behind a façade of total honesty. Though the betrayal was just about bearable, her double standards stank—I’d believed she was a better human being.

‘You’re spying on me for Smithies. And don’t try to deny it, because he told me himself.’

‘It isn’t what you think. You’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick. If you calm down for a moment, I can explain.’

‘Go on then,’ I challenged her. ‘And it had better be good.’

‘Look, I’m a chavvy Essex girl and it’s been tough for me to get so far. And when Smithies came on board, everything changed. I didn’t have a cat in hell’s chance of making it unless I did something different. I was all set to leave, as you know, but when I thought about it, I decided there was another way. There’s nothing wrong with building bridges with him—heck, I advised you to do the same.’

‘OK—I get that, but you could have done it without wrecking my life in the process.’

‘It had nothing to do with you! You’ve been so self-centred recently—everything is always about you. This is about
me
—right? I didn’t have to wreck your life—you did it all on your own.’

‘With a little help from my friends,’ I added.

‘Will you listen to me, please? When Smithies bounced me off the assessment centre, I went to see him.’

‘And told him he’d better promote you because I was an unstable neurotic untrustworthy bitch and you wanted my job.’

‘He’s giving
me
the group head job?’ she gasped.

The Shirley Temple naivety would have been utterly convincing if I hadn’t known better.

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know—give me credit for some intelligence.’

‘No—honestly—I had no idea. So what’s happening to you?’

‘Signed off long term sick, as you’re well aware.’

‘It’s probably for the best,’ she said, abandoning any attempt at feigned ignorance.

‘Best for you, you treacherous cow.’

‘No—you, stupid. You’re not well—I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks, but you wouldn’t listen.’

‘You said nothing, apart from some hypocritical advice to cut down my drinking. You—who nailed your colours to the mast of total truth—you’ve lied and lied and lied.’

‘There you go again. You know, Amy, the last few months you’ve been a complete bitch to work with, seeing people plotting against you all the time.’

‘Because they
were
!’

‘No—it was all inside your head—the head that’s so comprehensively messed up you can’t see anything straight. All I did was point out to Smithies how uniquely valuable I would be to him as a partner, because the whole team trusted me.’

‘And spying on me.’

‘No not spying on you—helping him to do his job, giving him essential information.’

‘And he said?’

‘He blustered as you’d expect—said he had excellent sources already. But I told him that everyone was so suspicious of his brown nose snitches they were useless as informants. What he
really
needed was someone who had everyone’s ear and who was known to be his enemy.’

‘And he asked you to spy on me.’

‘No—honest to God he didn’t. I admit he did ask me to watch out for you, but only because he was worried and he knew we were friends. He’s not as bad as you paint him—he
couldn’t
be that bad. As a matter of fact it was when you started saying he’d killed Isabelle that I decided there was something seriously wrong with you.’

‘You told him
that,
’ I said, aghast.

‘No, of course not.’

But I didn’t believe her. The trust between us had snapped like a neck in a hangman’s noose the moment I’d discovered she’d been angling for my job.

‘But Smithies was dead against your promotion.
I
made them change their minds.
I
met with Townsend…’

‘Smithies didn’t want to lose face, as you can imagine, but all the same I’d struck a chord. He predicted that you’d leap into action to rescue me.’

So Smithies had persuaded Lisa to plant the idea of a brewing equality issue in my mind. He’d actually sat there and taken a bollocking for sexual and racial discrimination for what he saw as a greater benefit. And they must have staged Lisa’s argument with him at the drinks party to perpetuate the myth that they were sworn enemies. Then her “job interview” must also have been a fiction designed to spur me into action.

Clearly, the pair of them could have enjoyed stellar careers in MI5, or maybe on the stage.

‘And all so he could have a spy in charge of the group.’

‘It truly wasn’t that way. And I do appreciate all your efforts on my behalf…’

‘You used me.’

‘No, no I didn’t. I wish you’d listen.’

Despite everything, I envied her cunning. I’d been so busy fighting Smithies that I’d failed to recognise the advantages of having him on side. Lisa had provided
egg-zackly
what he needed at the appropriate time. But the cleverness of her plan had to be seen in context, because she’d made a pact with the devil. And something in her story didn’t ring true—nobody manipulated the Machiavellian maestro Smithies quite so easily. He must be gaining some additional benefit, even if Lisa hadn’t yet figured out what it was.