‘You poor old lady. You could just have gone home.’
‘Yeah, but I’d prebooked my ride and I hadn’t got a hope of changing it, so I was kind of stuck.’
‘Stuck at the bar with Flipper. Sounds like a line from another song.’ She starts humming a tune.
‘What’s that meant to be?’ I ask after a while. Priya has many talents but, despite her arguments to the contrary, she’s spectacularly tone deaf, so any tune sounds pretty much the same if she’s singing or humming it. You can sometimes still guess the song from the rhythm, but that isn’t the case today.
‘“Stuck in the Middle With You”,’ she says, as if it’s totally obvious, before continuing in her toneless manner, ‘Techno to the left of me, Techno to the right. Here I am, stuck at the bar with Stu…’
‘You should be on TV with talent like that,’ I tell her sarcastically.
‘I know. What are you going to do about Flipper then?’
‘Rosie thinks I should just leave it. What do you think?’
‘I’d probably go a bit further and suggest you keep at least five miles between you and him at all times. He was a disaster when you two were going out, and I’m also pretty sure he was playing the field behind your back. He even came on to me once.’
‘Really? When?’
‘Pretty much the first time he met me.’
‘But that was only a week or so after we got together! Bastard. What did you do?’
‘I told him firmly that I was gay and, even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t go behind your back.’
‘What on earth possessed you to tell him that? You’re one of the most heterosexual people I know. In fact, weren’t you going out with Charlie then?’
‘I was,’ she says, sounding suddenly thoughtful. ‘He was a lovely boy, but I think I was a bit too much for him. I wonder where he is now? Anyway.’ Her voice returns to its usual brisk tone. ‘I told Stuart I was a lesbian because I thought it would get rid of him. As it turns out, I underestimated the sex pest. I think he actually found the concept a bit of a turn-on. Dirty sod.’
‘Why didn’t you say anything to me?’
She sighs. ‘I was going to, but it was one of those boozy college parties and I thought maybe he’d just been clumsily trying to pay me a compliment. You were really into him, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt and he never tried it again. By the time we all realised what a lowlife he really was, it was a bit late to tell you. It’s probably relevant now though, in case you’re falling for his alleged charms again.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I tell her firmly. ‘I’m not.’
‘Good,’ she says simply. ‘You deserve way better than him.’
When the call ends, I sit on my bed for a while, digesting the information Priya has just shared while drinking a cup of tea. It’s clear that Stuart had the morals of an alley cat back then and I doubt very much that this particular leopard has changed its spots in the meantime. One of the things I hate most about New Year’s is the whole New Year’s resolution thing, but I’m barely halfway down the mug before I’ve made one.
I’m taking Priya’s advice and never going within five miles of Stuart again.
3
One of the only good things about January is that it’s one of our busiest times in the office, so the first day back passes relatively quickly. Coxsmith Careers, where I work, specialises in recruitment within the financial sector, mainly in the City of London. Like Priya and her divorce Monday, the return to the office after Christmas always sees a spike in people who suddenly decide they need to move jobs immediately. We may be a small agency, but we punch well above our weight, mainly due to Alan Coxsmith, our founder and CEO. A wiry man of indeterminate age, Alan cut his teeth in investment banking before setting up his recruitment agency ten years ago, and his success is due in no small part to his extensive network of connections. We often joke that there isn’t a mover and shaker in the square mile that Alan isn’t on first name terms with.
We’re a close-knit team. Sonya was his first recruit, followed by me five years ago, and then Lily most recently. The fact that we’re an all-female team is, according to Alan, pure coincidence, but we secretly believe he finds women generally easier to cope with in the workplace. He makes no bones about his dislike for what he calls ‘preening idiots with vastly over-inflated opinionsof themselves’. Given the industry we work in and the nature of the personalities it attracts, this can be tricky, which is why he leaves the bulk of the work to us, focusing his own time on board-level appointments, which work in a very different way to the stuff we deal with.
On the face of it, our role is fairly simple. People who want to seek a new opportunity register with us, and we put them forward for positions that seem like a good fit and take a hefty commission from the new employer if the match is successful. In reality, there’s a lot more to it than that. We help our candidates to hone their CVs, provide interview coaching and generally do everything we can to help them present themselves in the best possible light to potential employers. Alan also expects us to keep on top of what he calls the ‘domino’ effect, which is that anyone moving to a new position should leave a vacancy behind them, which presents another opportunity for us to place someone, and so on down the line. It’s challenging work, especially when we’re flat out as we are now, but it’s also incredibly satisfying when we manage to place someone successfully.
This January looks like it will be no exception. It may only be the first day back, but I’ve already fielded a number of enquiries and tried to give each person the impression that they’re the new centre of my world. Lily and Sonya are similarly busy and Alan is nowhere to be seen, which means he’s probably got a deal on the go as well. As I’ve already mentioned, appointments at the top levels work in a different way. There’s nothing so crude as applications and formal interviews; it starts with a whisper that an opportunity might be about to open up, followed by several lunches at exclusive restaurants where theoretical ‘options’ might be discussed and preferred candidates softened up, culminating in a quiet chat to thrash out the final details over a glass or two of something eye-wateringly expensive in aprivate members’ club. Alan likens it to fishing with a double-ended rod. One end has the bait to draw in the employer, but you also need the right lure at the other end to tempt your candidate away from their current, highly lucrative position. It sounds exhausting, but Alan seems to thrive on the adrenaline.
Lily, on the other hand, is definitely not herself today. On the surface, everything seems normal; she’s making calls with her customary efficiency, but I can tell something is off.
‘Is everything OK?’ I ask her when we take advantage of a rare lull to slip into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
‘Yes, why shouldn’t it be?’ Her tone is guarded rather than hostile.
‘I don’t know. I get the impression something’s bothering you. Did you have a difficult Christmas? You were with your in-laws, weren’t you?’
