‘Olivia, I’ve had another bloody email.’ Scowling she handed over her phone.
----Original Message-----
From: Peter Cooper [mailto:[email protected]] To: ‘Emily’
Subject: Tardiness
Dear Emily
I emailed you yesterday and I haven’t heard back from you. I was worried you never got my email. Your receptionist tells me, however, that this is unlikely and that your system is very reliable. (She’s rather abrupt for one in her position.)
However I wasn’t confident she knew what she was doing so I popped in to ensure that she had checked properly. A proper little madam but that’s so many women for you. Knowing you as I do, I’m sure there’s a good explanation as to why you haven’t answered my first email. That stupid female on the front desk was covering up her own incompetence...
Oo er and yikes.
‘He popped in!’ My voice went up. ‘No wonder the Piranhas were ruder than normal.’
‘Bloody cheek. How dare he?’ exploded Emily. ‘Who does he think he is? Checking up on me? He can fuck off.’
‘Emily, calm down. There’s obviously been a mix-up. Poor chap. Thought Santa had done a personal delivery when he heard you’d ticked his box.’
‘I didn’t tick his sodding box! I’ve a good mind to ring your cousin. Get him to explain the cock-up to this Peter.’ She was pacing furiously up and down in front of my desk, oblivious to the curious looks she was getting.
‘As far as he’s concerned you did tick the box,’ I said gently.
‘Well, I didn’t,’ she roared at me. ‘I’m going to email him. How the hell did he find out where I worked?’
‘Emily, just let him down gently,’ I pleaded. ‘Imagine how he feels.’ In this mood there was no knowing what response she would fire off.
‘I was hardly going to email, “Fuck off you loony and don’t darken my inbox again”, was I?’
Actually, I wouldn’t put it past her. She wasn’t renowned for her subtlety. ‘Just do the standard-nice-girl fob-off, “you’re-far-too-good-for-me-and-I-just-want-to-be-fair-to-you.”’
She looked at me quizzically.
I heaved a big sigh. ‘Do you want me to do it?’ It was the only way to stop her upsetting him or so I thought.
‘Would you? You’re so much better at that sort of thing.’
I rolled my eyes. She was the one that wrote press releases about magical lipsticks staying put for forty-eight hours, when everyone knew they’d never pass the ‘one swig of a Bacardi Breezer’ test.
I picked up her phone.
‘Should it be, “Hi Peter” or “Dear Peter”?’
‘Try “Oy Weirdo”. Works for me.’
‘Ever considered a career in the diplomatic corps?’ My sarcasm was wasted.
Emily looked blank. ‘I couldn’t give a toss. We just need to get rid of him.’
I blinked at the casual ‘we’ but let it go. It was easier for me to get on and compose a gentle but firm rejection email explaining that ‘I’ wasn’t ready for a relationship just at the moment.
Emily tutted and tossed her head throughout. Every time I asked her opinion she pursed her mouth. Half an hour later, after much negotiation, I had an email that we were satisfied with. Emily pressed the magic ‘send’ button.
‘Happy now?’ she asked.
God, she could be a pain. If we weren’t sharing a flat, I would have stuffed the phone down her throat. Instead, I went back to my cold hot chocolate and a curt voicemail message. My usually mild-mannered boss, Max, was pissed off. Where was I? Thanks to Emily I was five minutes late for a client meeting.
