You Don't Have To Be Evil To Work Here, But It Helps (45 page)

‘True love,’ Cassie said suddenly, ‘is a joke. There’s no such thing, and I don’t care what that pointy-faced bitch said. It’s all just biochemistry, anyhow. I mean, does it really matter if the chemicals are poured in your tea or brewed up inside you by your own glands? It’s just chemicals making you do stupid things that you wouldn’t dream of doing if it was up to you.’

Benny laughed. ‘Just wait,’ he said. ‘I’ll remind you of that one of these days.’

‘Feel free,’ Cassie replied. ‘It’s not going to happen. For which I’m very grateful. After all, I’ve got a business to run now.’

‘We’ve got a business to run,’ Connie said, ‘And if you two’re thinking it’ll be a piece of cake, you couldn’t be more wrong. I mean, just think how much of our core client base we’ve lost over the last eighteen months—’

‘My God.’ Benny shook his head. ‘She’s only been a boss for twenty minutes, and already she’s starting to sound like one. That’s sad.’

‘Maybe.’ Connie finished her coffee. ‘But at least we’re never going to wake up one morning and find we’ve been sold along with the client list and the office furniture.’

‘Eternal life, though,’ Cassie interrupted. ‘Think about it, for just a second. Eternal life, and you can do magic. Think of the possibilities.’

‘I’ve thought,’ Connie said straight away. ‘If you’re not careful, you’ll end up like her, what’s-her-name - we never did find out what her name was, did we? Anyhow, just like her. Playing God.’

‘Jackie Dao is going to be really miffed when I tell him,’ Benny said. ‘I have a feeling he’s been looking forward rather a lot to the day when I go down there and don’t get to come back again. Not that he’s malicious or anything, but he does love a properly balanced ledger.’

‘Anyway,’ Connie said briskly. ‘Now that we’re the management, I think we ought to crack down on long, time-wasting coffee breaks. And since none of us has done much in the way of paying work these last few weeks—’

‘Slave-driver,’ Cassie said, as she stood up. ‘If you’re going to be like this for the rest of eternity—’

‘Count on it.’

Cassie sighed. ‘Maybe I’d have been better off in Hell.’

‘Quite likely. Now shoo. Including you, Shumway,’ Connie added, with a ferocious scowl. ‘I’ll trouble you to bear in mind that you two just elected me senior partner, so when I tell you to do something—’

When they’d gone, Connie sat for a while, looking up at the corner of the room. In a day or so, she’d move all her stuff into Jack Wells’s room; it was bigger, it had a breathtaking view of the City – several cities, in fact, thanks to its inbuilt instantaneous-relocation charm - and most of all, it was where the boss lived. It was, of course, invidious, petty and very sad of her to care about stuff like that, but she did.

Work. She’d just been lecturing the others about it; maybe she ought to do a spot of it herself. For example, there were the last few loose ends of Cas Suslowicz’s planning application. She nodded decisively. Nothing like sorting out reserved matters on a castle in the air for bringing you back down to earth.

She got up and found the file in the cabinet. When she turned round, she saw someone sitting in her chair.

‘You again,’ she said.

‘Yes.’

‘If you’ve come back to say you’ve changed your mind, you can forget about that, because you signed a legal transfer, and—’

‘Certainly not,’ the thin-faced girl said. ‘But there’s one last item of unfinished business. With all the drama earlier, it slipped my mind.’

‘Drama,’ Connie repeated. ‘Fine. Actually, while you’re here, you can clear up one thing for me. Was it your lot who kept trapping young Cassie in those stupid consequence mines and probability wells?’

The thin-faced girl frowned. ‘Excuse me?’

‘A few weeks back,’ Connie said, ‘before all this started. Seemed like every five minutes I was getting called out to go and unstick her. Now, the way I see it, either it was you or someone else, and if it was someone else, it’s reasonable to assume that they’re still out there, so—’

‘Ah.’ The thin-faced girl held up her hand. ‘A simple misunderstanding. Yes, that was my organisation. We needed to conduct a number of tests on Ms Clay, to ascertain whether she was - as we then believed - a reincarnation of the female star-crossed lover. We used a number of devices to immobilise her while we carried out the tests; not the ones you mentioned, but close enough to be mistaken for them. We are, of course, sorry for any inconvenience we may have caused, but I can assure you that we had all the necessary clearances.’

‘I bet,’ Connie said. ‘Right, that’s sorted that out. What was it you wanted to ask me about?’

‘Not “ask”.’ The thin-faced girl smiled. ‘Discuss. Really, it’s just curiosity.’ She frowned. ‘I suppose it’s a side effect of having been a human for a while. It feels strange, actually, wanting to know something and not being able to.’

‘I can imagine,’ Connie said warily. ‘So?’

‘About you,’ the thin-faced girl said briskly. ‘For one thing, why did you never get married?’

‘That’s a very personal question,’ Connie snapped.

‘Is it? Oh.’ The thin-faced girl shrugged. ‘Why is that? I mean, why’s it more personal than where you went on holiday last year? Is it because of the sexual connotations?’

Connie smiled at her. ‘Yes.’

‘I see. Well, even so, I’m interested. The truth is, in my line of work I don’t get to meet many humans - not live ones, anyway - and while I’ve been down here, working on this project, I suppose I’ve realised how little I understand them. If you answer my question, it might give me valuable insights into the human mindset.’

Connie thought about it. ‘If I tell you,’ she said, ‘will you go away?’

‘If you want me to.’

‘Fine.’ Connie composed her thoughts. ‘Well, I had my chances over the years, plenty of ‘em. But — ‘ She shrugged. ‘Getting married means settling down, settling down means compromising, losing your focus. It probably sounds a bit sad, but for me the job, being a sorceress, always came first. Not because I’m a lean, hungry corporate dingo, but because it’s always been fun. And having to divert a great big slice of my life and my energy to negotiating a relationship with some bloke - well, that’s more like work than fun. It’s just boring old trying to get along with people; you can’t solve the problems with spells or charms, you’ve got to hammer them out the ordinary way. I guess you could say that in all the relationships I tried, the magic wasn’t there. And the magic’s what I like best, you see.’

‘I think so,’ the thin-faced girl said. ‘I’m finding this most helpful - thank you. Would you mind if we examine this in greater depth? After all,’ she went on, ‘unless I learn a bit more about people, the chances are that the next time I have to deal with them in the course of business I’ll repeat the mistakes I made here. Surely you wouldn’t want that, for your fellow humans’ sake.’

Connie sighed. ‘Put like that,’ she said, ‘you may have a point.’

‘Excellent. As I understand it,’ she went on, ‘human social interaction is assisted by shared consumption of beverages. Tea,’ she added, and a tray materialised on the desk: bone china, teapot, milk jug, another jug for the extra hot water, sugar bowl, and a silver strainer in a little three-legged pot. ‘And in case you’re worried,’ she added, seeing the look on Connie’s face, ‘there’s no need. I can quite see why you might be suspicious about drinking anything you hadn’t made yourself, in the light of recent events; but, since we’ll both be drinking from the same teapot — ‘

‘Actually,’ Connie said, ‘it’s more usual to use the cups. Joke,’ she added. ‘I’ll be mother.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Forget about it,’ Connie said, pouring the tea and dropping in her usual two sugars. ‘So, what else do you want to know about?’

‘Your relationship with Mr Shumway,’ the thin-faced girl said. ‘My impression is that although there is no question of a romantic attachment, you share with him a bond of comradeship that is in many respects as powerful as love, or possibly more so.’

Connie thought about that. ‘I suppose I do,’ she said. ‘Which is odd, because outside of work we wouldn’t get on at all. I mean, his attitude to women, for one thing. Actually, his attitude to a lot of things. Everything, in fact. What I’m trying to say is, if we’d both got old and retired in the usual way, we’d promise each other on our last day that we’d keep in touch, no matter what, and then we’d never see each other again, ever. But here, in this building, I don’t suppose there’s anybody in the world I’m closer to, because, in spite of it all, we’re basically on the same side. Does that make any sense?’

‘Yes,’ the thin-faced girl said, putting down her cup. ‘And, of course, with a working relationship of that nature, anything in the way of romantic involvement would be ruinous.’

‘Of course.’

‘Particularly,’ the thin-faced girl added with a faint smile, ‘since under the prevailing circumstances you will be working together for the rest of your eternal lives.’

‘It’d be so embarrassing—’ Connie suddenly froze. ‘Have you been drinking your tea?’

‘Yes. Look, empty cup.’ The thin-faced girl showed her.

‘Nothing to worry about.’

‘Ah,’ Connie said, as her eyes closed and she started to slide towards the floor, ‘that’s all right then.’

‘Connie?’ Benny’s voice, in the darkness behind her eyelids, far away. ‘Connie love, are you all right?’

Ah, she thought. So I was right after all. Honestly, though; if you can’t trust an angel —

(But she didn’t, of course. A lifetime in the business had taught her that, apart from the few good people who work alongside you, nobody is to be trusted, ever, because sooner or later they’ll let you down, sure as God made little green apples. And, when you came to think of it, hadn’t that been the dirtiest trick of them all?)

Connie opened her eyes. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Well, don’t just stand there like a very small pyramid. Help me up off the floor.’

Benny reached down one of his broad, sausage-fingered hands, and she hauled herself up. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she said. ‘You got a call from What’s-her-face. Meet her in my office pronto.’

Benny clicked his tongue. ‘Oh,’ he said.

‘No, don’t worry, it’s all right.’ Connie dusted herself off and sat back in her chair. A few deep breaths and she was fine. ‘All right, you,’ she said loudly. ‘Come on out.’

Sure enough, the thin-faced girl materialised in front of them. She looked different: a floaty, sparkly dress instead of the dull-as-Newsnight charcoal-grey suit; a shimmering golden doughnut hovering over her head; wings. Apart from that, she was exactly the same.

‘Please try not to think of it as punishment,’ she said. ‘More like justice. After all, you interfered in the workings of my department. In the event, no harm came of it—’

‘Harm!’ Benny exploded. ‘You stupid bloody elf, she sorted out the mess you’d made.’

‘Nevertheless,’ the thin-faced girl went on, ‘such meddling must be discouraged at all costs, and an appropriate reaction was called for. Ms Schwartz-Alberich, you were very helpful just now. In fact, I understand you very well. Wouldn’t you agree?’

‘The philtre,’ Benny said quietly. Connie nodded.

‘You may have been wondering,’ the thin-faced girl went on, ‘why I saw fit to give this firm to the three of you. Quite simple. I want you and Mr Shumway here to be working side by side, every day, for ever. In the light of what I’d assumed, which you so kindly confirmed for me — ‘

‘Oh, quite.’ Connie smiled at her. ‘Listen, dear. Next time you’re dancing on a pin, if you could somehow manage to slip, so the pin goes right up your — ‘

‘Not punishment,’ the thin-faced girl said serenely. ‘Certainly not revenge. Simple justice. Well, now that I’ve cleared up the last loose end—’ She hesitated, frowned, and yawned. ‘I should be getting back. After all, I have plenty of work to be getting on with. A career woman, you see, just like you.’

‘Just like me. I was hoping you’d say that.’ Connie leaned back a bit further in her chair. She’d never realised before just how very comfortable it was. ‘But here’s a bit of advice, from a pathetic little mortal. When people tell you things, listen.’

The thin-faced girl arched her eyebrows. ‘Meaning?’

‘I told you,’ Connie said pleasantly, ‘that the JWW love philtre doesn’t work if you dilute it with a liquid containing more than a trace of unfermented sugar. Which is why,’ she went on, ‘I got into the habit thirty-seven years ago of taking two sugars in my tea. Wonderful things, habits,’ she added. ‘You do them without thinking.’

The thin-faced girl looked at her, and then at the sugar bowl on the tray. ‘Oh,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ Connie repeated. ‘I think that just about says it all. Pleasant dreams.’

‘Pleasant—?’ The thin-faced girl yawned again, her eyes widened to fried-egg size, and then closed.

‘Another first,’ Connie said. ‘Never seen anybody fast asleep in mid-air before.’ She stood up. ‘Dozy cow assumed that just because she’s an angel, it wouldn’t work on her. Serves her right. I think we’d better leave now, before she wakes up.’

‘In a minute.’ Benny was grinning so wide that Connie was worried in case the top of his head fell off. ‘Before we go — Sod it,’ he added. ‘There’s never a stick of chalk when you need one.’

‘Top drawer of the desk.’

‘Thanks.’

With the chalk, Benny drew a pentagram directly underneath where the thin-faced girl was hovering. He muttered something long-winded and funny-sounding under his breath, then clicked his fingers. ‘That ought to do it,’ he said. ‘Conjuring demons was never really my line, but it’s hardly rocket science, is it?’ He looked up at the thin-faced girl and shrugged. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘she was Management. And she made us do those annoying assessments. I asked for that Oscar by name, by the way.’

Connie giggled. ‘Do you think he’s her type?’

Benny nodded. ‘A match made in Heaven,’ he said. ‘Humour,’ he added. He extended his elbow in a gentlemanly fashion; Connie took it. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here and go and make some money.’