I didn’t sleep a wink the night I sent the email. I knew Simon would probably check his emails on his phone, and I waited and waited for a response. Then I panicked when I thought, what if he showed Adanna? I even tried to retrieve the email, but I couldn’t, I knew he’d read it. Eventually, at dawn, I fell asleep and woke up sluggish. I was running late for work. My eyes were puffy from crying and my skin was blotchy. I got to my desk at ten minutes past nine and kept my head down. Simon didn’t usually get in until closer to half past. The Monday morning chatter around me seemed normal. Daniel came over to my desk. I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen him, but he pulled up a chair beside me.
‘Jesus, what’s happened to your eyes?’ It was obviously worse than I thought.
‘I think I’m allergic to this new shampoo.’
‘Well, you never replied to my texts over the weekend. Is everything okay?’
I hadn’t replied to any texts and had kept my distance from my parents. ‘Yeah, sure, I was busy with my cousin. Sorry, I should have replied.’
‘Friday night was fun, wasn’t it? You caused a stir.’
I paused. ‘What?’
‘Gina had a stand-up row with her boyfriend, Romero? He couldn’t stop looking at you all night. She threw a glass of beer in his face at the end of the gig. Didn’t you know? How did you miss that? I couldn’t find you – that’s why I was texting you.’
The relief I felt was overwhelming, though I hadn’t seen Simon yet. At least it appeared that nobody had seen us leaving together. And everyone was talking about Gina, not me.
Just then, Simon breezed in. ‘Morning,’ he called and got a lot of responses.
‘Thanks for the gig, Simon.’
‘Great night out on Friday, cheers!’
Some of them started singing the chorus of ‘Birds of a Feather’ and broke into laughter. I kept my head down again but he passed close to my desk. ‘Lulu, will you pop into the meeting room in about five minutes? I need to put you on the Burton project.’
My heart walloped in my chest. I’d never heard of the Burton project. Anything could happen. I could be fired, suspended, or at least moved to a different department on a different floor, with a strike against my name.
As soon as I stepped into the room, I burst into tears. Simon was sitting at the head of the long table. ‘Hey, shush,’ he said, and his voice was gentle. ‘Come, sit here.’ He indicated the chair beside him. I sat obediently, pointing my knees away from him.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m such a fool.’
He pushed a box of tissues towards me. This was the room people were brought to when they were fired from the company. There was always a box of tissues.
‘I don’t want you to be upset, Lulu,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think I gave you any reason to think –’
‘No, no, you didn’t, I was drunk and, like, stupid, oh God.’ Fresh tears poured down my cheeks.
‘I think you should go home,’ said Simon.
This was it. The end of my career before it had begun.
He continued. ‘You’re clearly in no condition to work today, but there’s no need to be anxious about it. It was a silly mistake, and we can chalk it down to too much alcohol andoverexcitement. Go home, watch some mindless daytime TV and relax, maybe get yourself a massage, and please stop crying. There’s no need. I deleted that email the minute I read it, and I suggest you do the same. I’ll see you in the morning and we shall continue as if nothing has happened, okay?’
My heart lifted with every sentence. No dismissal, no suspension, no HR involvement at all.
I couldn’t believe it. I stopped myself from hugging him obviously but thanked him profusely and promised him it would never happen again. I closed the door behind me, overwhelmed with relief. I told Daniel I was going to see a doctor about my eye infection and left the office. I couldn’t believe I had gotten off so lightly.
On Tuesday, everything was as normal in the office, though I avoided eye contact with Simon, even though he included me in all the meetings and, as usual, praised my work.
Then it came to Thursday of the following week, and Daniel asked me to come to Angelo’s, a new gay bar, with him on Friday. He was a bit of a lost soul in Dublin. His friends and family were in Mullingar. He was living in a soulless apartment block fifteen miles from the city centre, sharing with strangers. I sensed he was lonely. I agreed but, as we were discussing it, Simon appeared and invited himself along. Although I was nervous, I replied, ‘Of course.’
But Daniel was peeved. ‘It’s agaybar, Simon.’
Simon laughed. ‘I’m sure they won’t throw me out. I’m popular with the gays, you know.’ There was a bit of an edge to his voice and Daniel knew his place.
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘The karaoke starts at eight – we’ll need to be there by seven to get a seat.’
‘Karaoke?’ said Simon. ‘How wonderfully retro. Do I have to be in drag?’
