Pinstripes (12 page)

Afterwards she had lunch – a tuna sandwich – then checked the flat for any missed bits. Satisfied, she took out all her old economics books and spent the afternoon reading.

In the evening, she decided to get a video. Her smile widened with irony as she selected
Wall
Street
, and she allowed herself a bag of popcorn.

Cooking dinner that night, she whistled to herself, and watched the movie pleased that she was watching a normal film. She went to bed that night to dream of Gordon Gekko.

On Sunday, she had a full English breakfast, and went out to buy the Sunday papers. She willed the time to pass into Monday as she half watched the
EastEnders
omnibus.

That night she hardly slept a wink as she thought about her brand-new life. Weekends when she would no longer be alone. A social life, maybe even a boyfriend. She blushed to herself as she thought about meeting men. The new Virginia would know how to talk to men. That was another thing she was determined about.

***

Clara woke up at six on Saturday evening. She pulled out her emergency earplugs and saw her answer-phone flashing so insistently that it made her headache worse.

She sloped into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. She felt famished but the fridge was empty except for the chocolates Tim had given her. She grabbed the box and went into the sitting room.

She pressed play on her answer-phone then lay on the sofa eating chocolates as she listened to her callers: her mother, her brother, then Tim: he spoke in a whisper from some God-forsaken part of Scotland. She couldn
’t even hear what he said. Clarissa had called to remind her that she was expected at a party that night, and a man Clara didn’t know had also rung.

She finished the chocolates and felt better. She phoned Clarissa. She had no memory of any party.

“Darling, where have you been? I’ve been calling all day,” Clarissa said.

“
In bed. I got laid by two guys last night, had about a zillion lines of coke and the same amount of champagne and got home at seven this morning. What have you been doing?”

“
Really, you are such a tease. You always make up such elaborate lies. Anyway, I’m having this party at my house, the one I invited you to months ago and I expect has a little star next to it in your diary.”

“
Um.” Clara thought that this probably wasn’t the time to break the news that she didn’t keep a diary.

“
So you’re in. Oh, darling, I have the most divine men coming. You’ll be spoilt for choice.”

At this Clara perked up. Until she remembered the kind of men Clarissa knew.
“What time am I expected?” she sighed.

“
Oh, you really are hopeless. I’m serving cocktails in thirty minutes. I need you here then.” Desperation had edged into Clarissa’s voice.

“
I’ll do my best,” Clara said. She thought about trying to get out of it, but Clarissa didn’t take kindly to being stood up.

She had a line of cocaine, jumped into and almost straight out of the shower, put on a nice little black dress, pulled on a coat and ran outside to hail a cab. It wasn
’t until she was in the taxi that she realised she had forgotten where Clarissa lived.

Clarissa was miffed when Clara called her from the cab.

“How many times have you
been
here? Clara, I live in the next street to you.” Clara laughed and directed the cab. She gave the cab driver a ten-pound tip because he looked pissed off.

Clarissa was one of Clara
’s oldest friends although they had little in common any more. She was busy trying to be a society wife, although she didn’t even have a boyfriend; she would only drink in moderation and she thought cocaine was something gangsters took. Clara found it hard to understand how Clarissa had changed so much, especially as they’d been the first ones to give each other an orgasm at boarding school. Whenever Clarissa and Clara met, Clarissa always looked at her as if she was terrified of having that little secret let out.

“
Darling, you look so gorgeous,” Clarissa said. Clarissa was stick thin, blonde and bony. The biggest thing about her was her nose. She looked awful.

As soon as Clarissa answered the door, Clara remembered why she hardly spent any time with her. Dressed in a style that would have pleased Clara
’s mother, Clarissa looked like a rich-wife-in-training: a simple designer suit, matching gold earrings and bracelet, sensible shoes with just a little bit of height, and a scarf tied neatly round her neck. Clarissa looked boring and middle-aged. Clara shuddered.

Clarissa had been Clara
’s first best friend, and until the age of eighteen they had been inseparable. Then Clara had skipped off to finishing-school and Clarissa had gone husband-hunting at Cambridge University. After university, Clarissa became straight, poised, and ready to marry well. Her friends were the same as her.

Clarissa looked nervous, which she usually did when she gave a party. She placed so much importance on these social gatherings that she sprouted another wrinkle with every
one.

They air-kissed and Clara tried to sound pleased to see her. She immediately saw a number of people she knew. They were old school friends, and suitable boys – so dull that she couldn
’t bear to spend the evening with them. They all pounced on her, asked her what she was doing, and proceeded to bore her to death. If that wasn’t bad enough, the cocaine was wearing off.

Clara extricated herself from a lawyer called Jeremy, ran into the bathroom and closed the door. She took out her coke, cut up two lines and snorted them both. She sat on the side of the bath and felt her panic ease. Damn Clarissa and her friends. She had to think of a way to get out, but she knew she couldn
’t leave just yet.

A different Clara swept back into the sitting room. She was relaxed and charming. She asked after Ginty
’s horse, Laura’s young son and Kate’s divine husband, then asked Clarissa who she had her eye on. They giggled for a while, as they stood in the girls’ corner, and the suitable men watched them. Although she was bored, Clara managed to look as if she was having fun. Just as one of the braver men looked about to approach her, the doorbell rang.

“
I’ll get it,” Clara said, and ran to the door. This was her escape plan. She would open the door, slip out then call someone to take her to a club.

On the doorstep was a man in his mid-thirties, with longish, greasy hair, wearing leather top to toe. Clara did a double-take.
“Crikey, I didn’t think Rissa had friends like you.”

“
And if I knew who Rissa was I’d probably agree.”

His accent was pure East London and Clara shivered with excitement.
“Clarissa lives here. She’s having a party.” She gave him her best seductive smile.

‘re
ally? Well, I guess I’m the gate-crasher. I’m Martin.” He smiled back sexily.

Clara grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.
“Martin’s here,” she announced to the whole room, which fell silent. Clarissa was frozen in shock.

“
Hi,” Martin said.

“
Hello,” Clarissa squeaked, without moving. Everyone else mumbled.

“
Let me get you a drink.” Clara grabbed a glass of champagne out of someone’s hand and gave it to Martin. She was mesmerised.

Slowly the party resumed its subdued tone, but Clara and Martin were soon shrieking with laughter. Clarissa still hadn
’t moved.

“
Would you like to have some fun?” Clara raised a questioning eyebrow at Martin.

“
Sure,” he said.

She led him upstairs and into the bathroom.

“Nice bathroom,” he said, and seemed interested in examining it. Clara lined up some cocaine.

Martin stopped looking at the piping long enough to have a line. Clara chopped up two more – and her sex addiction kicked in.

“I’m not wearing any knickers,” she announced, and lifted her dress.

Martin looked as if he
was
going to pass out so Clara just jumped on him. It was quick. It wasn’t entirely devoid of pleasure, and Clara had had her sex fix. She sat on the toilet seat as Martin put his trousers back on and lit a cigarette.

“So
, tell me why you’re here,” she said.

“
I’m a plumber. I was doing a job across the road and I saw this bloke come in here and when I left I noticed his car still had its lights on. I came to tell him.” Martin looked faintly embarrassed.

“
I guess he’s got a flat battery by now,” Clara said.

“
He’s not the only one,” Martin replied.

Clara let the plumber out. She didn
’t know whether to laugh or cry. She decided on laughter. Just as she was contemplating leaving, Clarissa found her. “Clara, are you going to explain just what that man was doing here and what you were doing with him?” Clarissa tried to keep her voice quiet, but the pitch was shrill.

Clara had worked out her story:
“Actually, darling, he told me he was a plumber and had come to mend the cistern, and I thought I’d save you embarrassment in front of your friends by making it look like he was part of the party then taking him to mend your loo. Anyway, he looked at it, said it was fine and I made him make sure. Then he realised he was in the wrong house – he’d actually been called next door. How funny.” Clara laughed.

“
At this time on a Saturday night?” Clarissa’s voice was practically breaking glass.

“
Darling, it was an emergency call-out. Anyway, I thought it was all very amusing. I can’t wait to go and tell everyone.”

Clarissa turned pink.
“Clara, I hardly think it’s appropriate to discuss such matters with my guests.” Clara smiled at her; she still felt loyalty to Clarissa although she couldn’t understand why.

“
OK, darling, I understand. I have a headache anyway, so I really should be going.” Clara kissed Clarissa on both cheeks and saw relief spread across her tight face.

Clara walked home, let herself in, took a couple more lines of coke and drank half a bottle of vodka. She just lay on her sofa, smoking, drinking, listening to music and playing her life in her head. Everyone else tried to control her, her parents and Tim especially. And, to top it all, she was addicted to sex so to an extent other men controlled her too. She felt sad about that, sad about it all, and she was determined to pull back her control. As tears fell on to the empty vodka bottle, Clara vowed she would make a success of her job.

She woke at 5 p.m. on Sunday. She shuffled to the kitchen, drank half a litre of water and took some headache pills. Then she went back to bed and slept through to the morning.

PART TWO

CHANGING TRENDS

Chapter Nine

“
Ella, I need a price in AMZ.”

“
Ella, what’s the bid for Coni?”

“
Ella, I need an update on the Lin trade.”

Ella threw back the answers. The markets had taken a beating that morning and stress was evident in the office. People were either shouting, sulking or screaming at each other. Ella was doing her best to keep cool; it always looked worse than it was. Her positions had made losses, but not catastrophic ones, and she had managed to limit the damage. The main problem was other people losing their cool and bugging her.

The other problem was Johnny Rupfin, the new boy. He had flinched when Jeff told him that Ella was his boss. Ella hadn’t had to manage anyone before. They had a couple of trading assistants on the desk, but they were so efficient that they worked on their own and didn’t require much supervision. Johnny was part of the desk; at some stage Johnny would be trading. And when he flinched, and all his pimples moved, Ella guessed that he liked the idea of her being his boss as much as she did.

Ella had started out by being warm. She had welcomed him, introduced him to everyone again and apologised that she would be busy this morning due to the state of the markets. He had barely looked at her or spoken to her. He went on to annoy her all morning. Why had this market done this? Why was that stock like that? What does this mean? What does that mean? The questions were irritating enough, but the worst thing was the way he treated every answer she gave him with disdain. He questioned her, then seemed to dismiss her answers, and she didn
’t have the time or the patience for it. The others on the desk were already being rude to him, but although he deserved it, Ella tried to be nice to him for Jeff’s sake. However, Johnny was turning out to be a major pain in the arse.

“
Johnny, it’s time for a very important job,” Liam said, not trying to disguise his hostility.

“
What’s that?” Johnny asked, pompously. If his short, greasy hair, his acne and his lack of height made him unattractive, his tone made him positively disgusting.

“
Lunch run,” Liam replied.

The whole desk was quiet as they listened to the discussion.

“What?” Johnny asked.

“
Lunch. I’m sure they had lunch at Harvard,” Liam said.

“
Yes, but why do I have to do the lunch run?”

“
Because, matey, you’re the new boy and all new boys do the lunch run.” Trevor was kinder than Liam.

“
I may be new to this desk, but I’m not straight out of university. I went to Harvard, I got an MBA. I think I’m probably the most qualified person here. I don’t get lunch. Anyway, I thought that was what trading assistants were for.” Johnny was on his feet. Everyone looked at him, and the two trading assistants cocked their ears. They only got lunch for the desk when there was so much going on that no one could leave.

Liam laughed.
“Johnny, even if you think you’re the most qualified member of this desk, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a junior. And, as a junior, you do what every junior has to do. That includes lunch.”

“
As I said, I don’t get lunch. I’m not a slave and I don’t think it’s the most productive use of my time. I could probably teach you all a thing or two and I thought you’d be grateful for the help. If I answer to anyone I answer to Jeff. Even though you seem to think you’re my boss, you’re not.” Johnny’s voice was raised as he looked at Ella.

Ella
’s blood boiled, and she lost her temper. “You little cock-sucker. Just because you went to business school does not give you anything over us. You’re a trainee, not a real trader, and from the way you’ve behaved this morning it’s clear you’re not going to be a real trader any time soon. So, if you think you have a future on this desk, then you better get your scrawny little arse down to the sandwich shop and get our fucking lunch.” Ella was looking Johnny straight in the eye as she said this. When she stopped, everyone else gave her a round of applause.

“
Fine. I’ll be speaking to Jeff about this.” Johnny picked up the sandwich list and the money and swept out.

As soon as his back was turned everyone burst out laughing.
“Way to go, Ella, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Liam slapped her on the back.

She mock-bowed.
“I better go speak to Jeff before he does.”

Ella went to his office and stopped on the way to speak with his secretary. One thing she had learnt early on was to be nice to secretaries. She knew that Johnny Fuck-face wouldn
’t work that out. Unfortunately, they didn’t teach social skills at business school.

“
Jeff, we have a problem.” Ella refused his offer to sit down.

“
I know. The markets are a mess. What are our losses?” Jeff was still staring at his screens.

“
Not huge. The accounts at the end of today will show you – but it’s not as bad as it looks. Anyway, that’s not the problem.”

“
OK. What is, then?”

Jeff was so approachable, so friendly and so smart. Ella prayed he was smart enough.
“I had a run-in with Johnny. Liam asked him to do the lunch run and he said that he didn’t get an MBA to get lunches and that he was more qualified than all of us. Then he said that you were his boss and he wouldn’t answer to me. Due to everything that’s going on we’re all a little fraught, so I got angry – but he needs to get used to this atmosphere. You know as well as I do that it’s not play school, and he just isn’t tough enough.”

“
I was afraid he’d turn out to be a bit of a sissy. Listen, Ella, I’ll back you on this one – even I had to get lunch for people when I started. But, well, there’s something else.”

Ella
’s heart sank. “What?”

“
He’s the nephew of one of our biggest clients. I didn’t tell you before because I hate nepotism. The trouble is that he wants to trade, and he wants to trade on the best desk we’ve got. Which is ours. I had no choice in hiring him, really – his uncle put the squeeze on. So we’re stuck with him.”

Ella was angry. Johnny had no skills and would make a crap trader; she
’d put money on it. But he had a job for as long as he wanted because of who he was. Life was unfair. “Does that mean we have to be nice to him?” she asked.

“
No. Treat him as you treat everyone. Ella, I mean it. I said we’d hire him, but I also said there would be no special treatment. If he complains to his uncle, then I’ll speak with him personally. Apparently, his uncle isn’t even that fond of him anyway.” Jeff managed a weak laugh.

“
Well, I guess he needed to get him a job. After all, no one else would hire him.” Ella swept out of the office.

Johnny took his time returning with the sandwiches. He had purposely forgotten Ella
’s. “Sorry, I guess they don’t do jellied eel sandwiches,” he said. He had balls, Ella noted, but the wrong kind. He was rude to Ella and, as he had been told she was his boss, that wasn’t the smartest move. He was so secure in his position yet this was only his first day. Ella remembered fleetingly how she felt on her first day. Nerves had been eating her. Johnny Harvard Rich Uncle had probably never felt nervous in his life.

“
I’m from Manchester, not the East End of London, you little prick,” Ella said. She told herself to calm down and be nice to him, but she wasn’t convinced she could be.

“
Well, north or east, it’s all common, isn’t it?” Johnny sneered. Liam looked as if he was going to hit him; Trevor had come over and stood behind Ella; John was looking at Johnny as if he had crawled out of his backside. Everyone else was ready to fight.

Ella indicated to them to let her deal with it.
“Yes, it is. But, then, I’m a fucking good trader and you’re a cock-sucking, pimple-faced little turd. Is that common enough for you? You, Johnny No-balls, will never be a good trader, in the same way that you’ll never get laid. But don’t worry, because Uncle Job-fairy got you this job, and I’m sure he’ll get you another one if you fuck up. Because that’s the only way you will ever stay in this industry. Now, I am your superior in every way, and if you don’t listen to me, I’ll kick your arse into Jeff’s office and perhaps you’ll listen to him.” When she had finished, Ella found that she had drawn quite a crowd. Johnny was red-faced, in anger and then embarrassment, as Ella received her second round of applause that day. He sat down. Ella reached across, picked up his sandwich and ate it.

Johnny seethed all afternoon. Some black woman with a northern accent was telling him what to do. Him, an MBA graduate from Harvard. His uncle was one of the biggest private clients this bank had; they should remember that and give him the respect he deserved. He was special; she was common, and she was a woman. She would regret treating him like this. All she was good for was sucking his dick, not calling him a cock-sucker. How dare she? She had no right. Johnny decided there was no way he would be spoken to like that by a woman. He would find a way to make her pay.

He was quiet for the rest of the afternoon, much to Ella’s relief. She wasn’t sure how much more she could cope with. When the day ended, she went home and drank two whiskies. She didn’t know why, but Johnny bothered her. His presence and his attitude unnerved her. Especially as everything else seemed to be going so well.

***

Monday seemed to set the atmosphere for the rest of Ella’s week. Her relationship with Johnny deteriorated every day. He ignored her when she tried to explain things, he scowled at her when she asked him to do anything. The rest of the desk were close to hitting him, and Ella was tired. Jeff spoke to Johnny to reiterate Ella’s position but that had no effect.

The markets were still volatile, which meant the traders had to concentrate hard and she found that increasingly difficult when she had a little wart like Johnny to deal with. She was finding it hard to keep her nerve; she was finding it even harder to keep control. They rowed daily. Ella swore at him and Johnny answered back. Although Ella always had the last word, she was fed up with fighting, fed up with Johnny, and for the first time since she had been at SFH, she was not enjoying herself.

The worst argument happened on Thursday. Ella could barely believe that Johnny had been there less than a week – he was acting as if he owned the place. She had told him that she would let him know when she felt he was ready to trade. He told her he was ready now. She told him he was not. He told her he was a better judge of his abilities than she. She told him he was an arrogant shit. Ella hated what she had become. She was swearing, shouting and behaving badly. Johnny brought out the worst in her. He didn’t listen when she tried to be nice and calm, he didn’t listen when she shouted. So she just shouted louder. Ella wanted to make management. She could easily manage anyone else on the desk. Her approach would be to listen, to care and to conciliate. She would be gentle and she would earn respect. With Johnny, her management approach was on a par with a bull in a china shop. She hated herself for it, but she hated him even more.

At lunch-time Liam dragged Ella out of the office before she killed Johnny. They went to Bertie
’s.

“
Uggghhh,” Ella said, and drank a glass of wine quickly.

“
Ella, keep calm. He’s just a little wanker.”

“Then
why is he making my life such a misery? Why is it getting to me? Why can’t he just fuck off?”

“
Look, I know it’s tough now but he won’t last. I’ve seen this before. Idiot clients think their idiot relatives deserve jobs, then idiot relatives can’t do the job and we all get pissed off. They’ll relocate him soon and we’ll be free to do our jobs. Just wait. Let him make mistakes, then go to the boss with those mistakes. One thing no one in this company will tolerate is people who lose money. And Johnny has ‘shit gambler’ written all over his forehead. Just be patient, and although I don’t blame you one little bit for the way you speak to him, try to count to ten before every outburst. You may find it helps.”

“
Liam, I almost love you. Well, I might love you. God, that little weasel is really getting to me. I hope you’re right. If he does fuck up, I’ll buy you dinner in the restaurant of your choice with champagne. Christ, I hope you’re right. I’m not sure if I can cope with this much longer. And I will try not to shout, but you’ve seen the way he reacts when I’m nice. Shit, it doesn’t make any difference.” Ella smiled.

“
Well, I’ve opened a book on how long he lasts. We start at a hundred to one for three months, and evens for two weeks. I’ll give you a range in between.”

“
I’ll bid seventeen days,” Ella said.

Liam typed it into his electronic organiser.
“OK, I’ll give you two to one. I tell you, seventeen days, what a good guess. I’m going for two weeks because he’s such a dickhead, I think I’ll have to kill him before then anyway.”

“
Christ, Liam, I didn’t think he bothered everyone else as much as he bothers me. That makes me feel better.”