The Guilty Couple(41)

‘We all need this job. We wouldn’t be cleaning up other people’s crap if we didn’t.’

‘Jakub!’ Noreen calls from the front of the bus. ‘Now please. This is your stop.’

He raises a hand in acknowledgement.

‘One hundred and fifty!’ I say desperately. I have to get into that building.

Jakub grins as I take the notes out of my purse and swap them for the pass that he’s slipped out of his pocket. He folds the notes into his hand.

‘Noreen,’ he calls. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m not feeling very well.’

We enter The Radcliffe Building through the revolving door at the front then sign in at reception where a bored-looking security guard is sitting alone behind the long stretch of desk that runs along the wall to our right. To our left is a long line of black leather chairs and, beyond them, is an airport-style X-ray machine. Separating the foyer from the escalators are the entry and exit turnstiles. The pass Jakub gave me as I climbed out of the minibus has his name and photograph printed on the shiny plastic card. Noreen initially kicked up a fuss about me covering for him, saying that one of the other cleaners would have to do his floor as well as their own. The collective groan that went up about a late finishing time convinced her otherwise.

As the others queue up to sign in I ask Jo, the stocky woman with short dark hair who I’ve spoken to before, if I’ll get in trouble if someone asks to see my pass. She shakes her head dismissively. ‘Nah. If you’re wearing this polo shirt,’ she taps the C&C Cleaning Services logo on her chest, ‘and you’ve got a hoover or a duster in your hand, no one’ll give you a second look.’

I nod my thanks but, when it’s my turn to sign in, I scribble something indecipherable where it says ‘Name’, just in case.

‘Okay, let’s go.’ Noreen shepherds us through the turnstiles then points us in the direction of the contractors’ lift. As we stand outside she allocates each of us a different floor of the building. ‘Debbie, floor one, Terri floor two, Dawn floor three, Corrina floor four …’ A bead of sweat rolls between my shoulder blades as she pauses to consult her list. Floor five is where Dominic works. It’s where I’ll find his safe. ‘Floor five Jo, floor six …’ I zone out until my name is mentioned. I’m on floor ten, five offices higher than I wanted to be.

‘Excuse me, sorry.’ I try to edge around the group to reach Jo who’s been allocated floor five but, before I can get anywhere near her, Noreen shouts my name. ‘Olivia, I haven’t finished speaking.’

Mortified, I freeze, as my colleagues all turn to stare. We listen as Noreen explains where the cleaning cupboards can be found on each floor, the tasks we must complete and the standard of cleaning expected. When she finally finishes speaking she waves a dismissive hand through the air.

‘Debbie, Terri, Dawn, Corrina and Jo please take the lift.’ I watch, heart sinking, as the doors close on Jo, and my plan.

Several minutes later I step out onto floor ten, with Noreen by my side. She stalks off to the cleaning cupboard, opens it with a swipe of her pass and hands me a hoover and a bucket of cleaning supplies.

‘This is you.’ She gestures towards the large glass door of a publishing company. ‘Open the door with your pass, then clean, put everything away and return to the ground floor at ten o’clock. No phone calls, no unauthorised absences. If you abuse my trust you will receive a written warning and your probation officer will be informed.’

I tense at the mention of my probation officer. Do all the staff get threatened with written warnings or is it special treatment for ‘ex-cons’ like me?

‘I understand,’ I say, and tighten my grip on my pass.

‘Good.’ Noreen presses the button on the lift. ‘I’ll be back to check on you soon.’

I don’t wait for the lift doors to close. Instead I touch my pass to the entry system and the office door swings open. Inside is a huge open-plan space with clusters of desks arranged along the side of the room nearest the floor-to-ceiling windows. On the other side are a number of glass offices and meeting rooms, many with blinds drawn. It’s the same layout as Dom’s office on floor five. He works in the first glass-walled room. I need to get down there but I’ve got no idea how I’m going to sneak away, not without Noreen noticing that I’ve gone.

I set to work scrubbing desks, taking in the minutiae of other people’s lives: mugs with cringeworthy catchphrases, pen pots sprouting fake grass, stress toys, Post-It notes and the rictus grins of uniformed children in school photographs pinned next to memos and guides. I can hear the faint hum of hoovers above and below me as I squirt, wipe and clean. I glance at my watch. There’s only an hour and ten minutes until I have to regroup with the others downstairs. I can’t afford to pay Jakub another one hundred and fifty pounds to take his shift and if Noreen takes his pass off me later I’ll never get this chance again. I need to sneak into Dom’s office now, before I completely lose my nerve.

I abandon my antibac bottle and my cloth and make my way to the lift. I’ll nip inside, jump out on floor five and sneak into Dom’s office before Noreen comes back to check up on me. If Jo says anything I’ll tell her I’ve been asked to look for a missing cleaning bucket.

Shit. The arrow above the lift is pointing downwards. Floor thirteen. Floor twelve. Floor eleven. I beat a hasty retreat back to the office door but it’s already closed and locked. As I reach into my pocket for my pass Noreen steps out of the lift.