I think about replying and telling her that the Harri Kemp has just asked me to be her business partner, actually. Instead, I delete Jen’s message, and grin at Louise and Kim, and tell them I love them in the most work-appropriate way I know. ‘Who wants a tea?’

Chapter Fifty-Four

Everything she wants

Harri

Harri is back where it all began, the boardroom where Will first summoned her forth to issue the world’s worst early Christmas present. It’s weird that Will isn’t here. No Lily or Katie, either. No Mackenzie. None of her enemies, which is strange. In a way, it’s nice not to see them—but perhaps this means Harri won’t have the opportunity to argue her case. If she has one. Maybe whatever Mackenzie has already said about her is so damning that she doesn’t need to be there to reiterate it? For half a second, Harri wonders whether she is even in the right room. Perhaps the stress of the last few months has led to some sort of breakdown. Has she appeared in someone else’s job, someone else’s life, someone else’s firing? She can count twelve faces, all vaguely familiar from Christmas parties past. She thinks one of the men is called Martin—a red face, a red tie, and a recollection of an alarmingly…thrusty dance to ‘Get Lucky’. None of them are unfriendly—in fact, they look downright welcoming. Maybe that’s just the blood lust. Maybe firing people is their favourite thing.

‘Harriet? I’m Linda Morris. We’re delighted to see you, please take a seat.’ Harri doesn’t remember meeting this woman before, but there’s something reassuringly familiar about her. A warmth. A sense of purpose. Linda must be in her early fifties, but she seems centuries older than Harri, the polish, the poise, the low voice, the round vowels. Her steel grey blouse has a pussy bow. Harri has tried similar blouses, and she has always looked like a joke shop fancy dress secretary. On this woman, the blouse somehow implies she’s a person whose secretary has a secretary. Harri suspects that this woman has also never sniggered at the word ‘pussy’.

‘Now, the last few months must have been very tough for you.’ Ah, here it comes, the letting me down gently. ‘I’d like to make a sincere and heartfelt apology on behalf of the entire board,’ and we’re obliged to offer you, to thank you for your years of loyal service, three days’ severance pay, and an attractive carriage clock, perfect for the mantlepiece of the home you will have to sell in order to…‘and assure you that we were misled as to what was going on within the company, and we’re committed to rectifying it.’

‘What are you talking about?’ The words leave Harri’s mouth before she has a chance to edit them.