Adding William to the recipients so he could share in the joke was a bad idea, she acknowledged afterwards. It was just that she’d recently read an article warning that after a date there was a limited window to foster intimacy, and you shouldn’t play too cool and miss it.
Unfortunately, her finger was already in mid-click before she noticed that ‘Folder: All’ was still up.
But it was too late, the message from her hungover brain was already flashing along the neurons in her arm, and nothing on heaven or earth could stop it.
In that moment, she watched helplessly as the message went to every single person in the company and her career imploded.
And that was the start of everything.
Chapter 1
‘You’re freaking joking! Conal has called you in for a meeting at 8 a.m.?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What do you think he’s going to say to you?’
Ally was sitting on the sofa, cuddling her leopard Squishmallow and talking on the phone to Rosemarie, who seemed to be responding to the catastrophe with a round of Twenty Questions.
‘I’m not sure, Rosemarie, but at a wild guess I’d say “You’re fired.”’
‘Oh my God. That’s brutal. Have you heard from William?’
She sighed. ‘No. Surprise, surprise.’
This was the bit she couldn’t bear to think about.
‘You know what, I think you should call the union. Let them know what’s happened.’
‘I’d say they know. In fact, everyone in the company does, right down to the sandwich delivery van.’
‘Oh, right. Still, you could have a case of unfair dismissal.’
‘I don’t know, Rosie, it’s probably fair dismissal. I mean, what was I thinking?’
‘I don’t know, what were you thinking?’
‘I fucked up.’
And that was about the size of it.
‘I’m here for you anyhow, girl,’ said her friend loyally.
Only then did the seriousness of her actions hit home. Ally ended the call and burst into tears.
* * *
At 8 a.m. precisely Ally found herself ushered into Conal O’Callaghan’s office, which wasn’t as plush as you might have expected. There was a coffee machine in the corner and a mug that saidWarning: May Start to Talk about Rugby. The wall was covered by a large year planner and a row of framed International Concrete Society awards.
Conal himself was sitting behind his desk, looking grim. He was a wide man with a charcoal grey suit and assertively striped tie.
‘I’m not going to give this any more time than necessary,’ he said. ‘I’m just letting you know that your employment with this company is terminated as of right now. You’ll be paid for the next month. Take it up with HR – sorry, you are HR. Take it up with whoever you like but you don’t get to do things like that stunt yesterday and get to keep your job in my company.’
Oh God, thought Ally. Her mind was going blank from panic but in a last desperate pitch, something squeaked out.
‘How about if I sent a circular email back to all the same people, saying it had been a stupid prank that went wrong and it was all my fault and there was no harm intended and I’m terribly sorry and can we all just move on. Or something?’
She could hear her voice petering out in the face of his stony expression.
