When I got into work the next morning, I made straight for Bennett’s office. He was a few minutes late, which was unusual for a man who considered having to go home to his wife and children an inconvenient interruption to his working day. He looked like he hadn’t slept for a week. I should have felt sorry for him, and guilty for what I’d done, but I couldn’t. As well as being an arrogant bully, the man was a wanton and careless philanderer. He’d had affairs with at least five women in the office in the last few years (several of them simultaneously), not to mention his innumerable liaisons with clients, barmaids and pretty young students so eager to make a good impression at graduate recruitment fairs. Come to think of it, our trip to New York might have been the only time he hadn’t slept with anyone while away on company business. If he was now being punished for a crime he hadn’t committed, perhaps that was just God’s way of evening things out.
He didn’t even grunt a cursory ‘Good morning’ as he brushed past me to turn on his computer. His mood wasn’t improved when he found another message from Olivia waiting for him. Taunting him.
‘I suppose you think I’ve asked for this, don’t you?’ Bennett said, turning away from his screen. He looked more unsettled – less Bennett-like than I had ever seen him, almost vulnerable. ‘What with all the bits and bobs I’ve got up to in my time.’ I shook my head vigorously as if this thought had never crossed my mind. ‘Perhaps you’re right. But I swear I never touched this woman. Never even spoke to her. So either she’s a nutcase or there’s something more sinister going on. I don’t think anyone in the studio would take the joke this far.’ His voice tailed off as he added, ‘And it stopped being funny some time ago.’
Shortly before eight o’clock, we were ushered, like a pair of naughty schoolboys, into Bill Davis’s office.
Bill was unusually brusque. ‘Listen chaps,’ he said without even going through the usual niceties of offering us a coffee, ‘I’ve spoken to HR about this …’
‘Oh, fuck!’ said Bennett, then immediately corrected his mistake – just as in the military, swearing in front of a senior officer was frowned upon at Askett Brown. ‘Sorry, Bill. But why did you have to get Human Bloody Remains involved?’
‘Well,’ said Davis, ‘it is their job. You two are human resources, after all. This whole business is clearly affecting your work and that could impact on our results and I’m not having that. So, let’s get it all sorted out and move on.’
‘But if HR get involved, it will go on my file and I’ll be marked for life,’ Bennett whined.
‘This isn’t about punishing you, Joseph,’ Bill replied. ‘I’m trying to help you – both of you. HR will sort you out a bit of training or something and it will all be cleared up in no time.’ He made it sound like a dose of the pox.
Bennett was not to be placated: ‘With respect, Bill, the only thing that needs sorting out round here is this fu— this flaming idiot. He told Madame Finch I’d go round and see her in her hotel room, for crying out loud!’
Davis turned to me. He looked exasperated and his normally T-square straight shoulders had sagged. ‘Is this true?’ he asked, his frustration pushing its way to the surface.
‘Yes—’ Bennett began, but Davis cut him off.
‘Mr West?’ he said in a tone that brooked no further argument from Bennett.
‘I was only trying to help,’ I said, after a long pause during which Bennett tried several times to fill the vacuum and was stopped by a glance or gesture from Bill. ‘She wanted to see Joseph again,’ I added, trying to piece together the same story I’d told Bennett. ‘She was very insistent, so I said I’d speak to him and see if he would pop round to see her.’ This was starting to make some sense to me but I wasn’t getting any buyers in the room.
‘And did you?’ Davis asked.
‘No, he didn’t,’ said Bennett.
‘Mr West!’ Davis demanded, turning his back on Bennett and fixing his gaze on me.
‘No. No, I didn’t,’ I replied, much more quietly than the others. ‘I knew that Joseph wouldn’t want to see her and I didn’t really want to tell him that I’d told her that I’d ask him if he would. I was just trying to buy us all some time. She’s heading back to LA today – she’s probably already up in the air. Perhaps the whole thing will blow over.’
‘And perhaps,’ Bennett cut in, ‘you’ll develop a brain sometime soon, you moron. She’s not going to let this go, is she? You saw that e-mail. The silly cow’s got it into her head that she’s in love with me and you’ve done nothing but encourage her. You know what I think, Bill? I think we should ring Guttenberg and tell him that his Ms Finch is a lunatic and that if he doesn’t get her to stop harassing me, we’ll turn this over to the police. And at the same time, you can tell him that you’ve fired this useless little turd.’
Bill pulled a face that suggested he’d rather spread fish paste on his genitals and mud-wrestle a hippopotamus than have that conversation with Buddy. He thought for a moment, took a sip at an empty cup of coffee, then reached for the silver thermos jug in the middle of the table to pour himself another. His brow was furrowed like Solomon the Wise attempting the Financial Times crossword.
When he spoke it was with surprising certainty. ‘This is what we’ll do,’ he said, his gaze steady and assured. ‘I will ring Mr Guttenberg to apologise to him and Miss Finch on behalf of Askett Brown and the two of you specifically for yesterday’s misunderstanding and any distress that might have been caused. I will also tell him that we have had one or two problems in the Entertainment and Media Division but that these are now being addressed. And I hope he’ll be persuaded by the sincerity of my apology because, gentlemen, times are hard and I don’t want to lose a good client because of some stupid cock-up like this. Is that clear?’
I nodded obediently. Bennett’s intimation of agreement was more difficult to discern.
‘So I will not be firing Joe here,’ Davis continued looking pointedly at Bennett, ‘or anybody else. Not for the time being at least. Now the pair of you get out of my ruddy sight and go and see HR. I’ll tell Dai Wainwright you’re on your way.’
Askett Brown’s entire HR department consisted of a sinister little man named Dai Wainwright, who bore the title of Director of Human Resources with great pomp and importance, his secretary, Irene, and a single four-drawer cabinet into which were stuffed the thin histories of every person who had ever graced the company’s payroll. From time to time, Wainwright would be wheeled out to fire someone – a task he performed with great relish – before being filed away back behind the door of his seventeenth-floor office. He was known throughout the company as ‘Dai the Death’.
While the mere mention of the name ‘Dai Wainwright’ could reduce even the toughest of Askett Brown’s alpha males to jelly, physically he was not a prepossessing man. Standing little more than five foot four in his stockinged feet, he only managed to break the socially acceptable five foot six threshold by wearing lifts in his shoes, which meant he had to walk carefully, like a trainee stilts-walker, especially when going downstairs. But within this small package beat the heart of an aggressive little bastard who had built up what little physique he had into something rather impressive and intimidating. As a teenager he’d had a trial for the Welsh schoolboy rugby team, punching above his weight as a pugnacious scrum-half, a snippet of his personal history he liked to remind people about as regularly as possible. Nowadays, he gave vent to his aggression by ending the careers of arrogant, high-flying City boys whenever the opportunity arose, which was all too rarely for his liking.
Bennett was already outside Wainwright’s office when I arrived, pacing up and down like a disgruntled tiger, his face still contorted with rage. He wouldn’t look at me, let alone talk to me, as we waited. Occasionally, he would sigh or ‘tut’ loudly, to let off a bit of steam, but apart from that we sat in silence.
After several minutes, Wainwright appeared at the door, apologised insincerely for keeping us waiting and invited us into his office. His voice had a characteristic sing-song lilt, but the song was a dirge – Uncle Fester performing karaoke at an Addams Family funeral. ‘Coffee? Tea? Water?’ he asked, making each sound as if it came laced with strychnine. We both declined. I looked across at Bennett as we sat down, but he didn’t catch my eye. He was totally focused on Wainwright.
‘All right, Wainwright,’ said Bennett in a voice that to the Welshman must have shouted of centuries of English oppression, ‘we all know why we’re here, so let’s get on with it. You’ve already kept me waiting fifteen fucking minutes and I don’t intend to waste another second of my valuable time. So say your piece, write your report, and then let me and my fuckwitted friend get back to work. OK?’
Wainwright reworked his face into what might loosely be described as a smile, but one so lacking in warmth that you could have served sorbet out of it. His eyes were alive with the prospects of doing battle with a worthy adversary, not one of those lily-livered cowards who begged and cried and invoked their wives and children as he told them they had precisely one hour to clear their desks. Joseph Bennett was made of sterner stuff – and Wainwright was already enjoying this. He’d hardly even noticed I was in the room.
‘This will take as long as it will take, Mr Bennett,’ Wainwright said, glowering across the table.
Bennett stared back, refusing to blink or avert his gaze, but choosing to say nothing. The Welshman stood up for maximum impact but, even with the two of us sitting down, he only towered over Bennett by a few inches.
‘When Bill first asked me what we should do about this situation, do you know what I said? I said, “Bill, you should fire the pair of them. The reputation of this company is far too important to risk because of a couple of liabilities like Bennett and West.”’ He paused to check our reaction.
I tried to remain impassive, although I could feel my face reddening. Bennett shuffled uncomfortably in his chair and fought the urge to speak in his own defence or smash something heavy over the diminutive Welshman’s head.
‘Fortunately for the two of you,’ Wainwright continued, ‘Bill Davis is a far nicer person than yours truly.’ He laughed an empty chuckle, like a repairman discovering your boiler needs an expensive new part. ‘Not only does he want to give you another chance, but he’s asked me to spend some of my precious training and development budget to send you on a course to improve your interpersonal skills. If you ask me, the only course we should be sending you on, Mr Bennett, is one on how to keep your pecker in your pants when confronted by a beautiful woman.’ He allowed himself another smile.
Bennett looked fit to burst. I leaned forward and poured myself a glass of water.
‘Still,’ Wainwright went on, ‘ours not to reason why, is it, lads? If Bill Davis says do it, then I like to think he can consider it done. I know a man who specialises in this kind of thing. Chap called Rodney James down in Balham. Wonderful man. Marvellous wing forward he was back in the day. I rang Rodney after Bill spoke to me and, bless him, he said he’d be happy to see you gentlemen first thing on Monday.’
Bennett could hold his tongue no longer. ‘Now you listen here, Wainwright. I am a very busy man with a job of work to do, bringing money into this firm. I have a packed schedule on Monday and I have no intention of wasting any part of the day in fucking Balham. So you can tell your Mr James that he can do what he likes with this wanker,’ he pointed exaggeratedly in my direction as if we’d otherwise be unable to work out who he was referring to, ‘but I shall be at my desk as per normal. Do I make myself clear?’
‘You make yourself crystal clear, Mr Bennett,’ Wainwright replied. ‘In fact, I thought you might say that. I said to Bill, I said, “If we offer Bennett some training, you know what he’ll say, don’t you?” and Bill said, “No,” and I said, “He’ll say words to the effect of ‘Stuff that for a game of soldiers.’” I wish I’d had a little side bet with him now.’ He chuckled again. Then, after a pause of several tantalising seconds, he added, ‘And do you know what Bill said to me?’
Bennett shook his head, fists clenched, the impulse to reach over and strangle this annoying little man almost irresistible.
‘Bill said, “Well, if he refuses to do what you ask, Dai, you have my authority to fire him!”’ Wainwright sat down again, satisfaction tattooed all over his face.
Bennett looked dumbstruck. ‘You can’t do that,’ he roared, rising from his seat, ‘and you know it. You don’t have the authority to fire me.’
‘I can, I don’t, I do and I will,’ Wainwright sang back, relishing the moment.
Bennett stared at Wainwright, suddenly looking utterly defeated. The thick veneer of undiluted success that he had worn like foundation all these years had been washed away, leaving a pale shadow of his former self. When he finally regained the power of speech, he said in little more than a whisper, ‘Don’t get me wrong, Dai. I didn’t say I wouldn’t go to Balham. I just said that I have a ton of work on right now, so if we could make it later in the week then that would be great. I’m very grateful for what you and Bill are doing to sort this mess out and I’d be a fool not to take every opportunity on offer. Perhaps we could check diaries and see when might be convenient for everyone?’
Wainwright scrunched up his face and nodded in admiration of Bennett’s nimble footwork, like a hunter who had almost landed his prey, then seen it break free before he could deliver the coup de grâce. ‘I’m so glad you see things our way, Mr Bennett. Unfortunately, Monday is the only day next week that Rodney is available, so may I humbly suggest that you try to free up your time? Let me know if this proves difficult and I’ll have a word with Bill about the alternative options. Am I making myself clear now, Mr Bennett?’
Bennett nodded, defeated. Then, as an afterthought, as if he’d suddenly remembered I was in the room, Dai the Death turned to me and said, ‘All clear, Mr West?’
‘Yes,’ I replied. It was the first word I’d uttered since I’d turned down the offer of a drink fifteen minutes earlier.