Maame(29)
I look down at the printout of her calendar. It’s alarmingly full. I wonder if she genuinely has time to pee or whether she runs on chronic dehydration.
“I know,” she says, catching me. “I’m very full at the moment, but I do need these meetings scheduled in.”
“Right.” I nod emphatically. “Sure.”
* * *
Something I learned my third day in? To suggest a lunchtime meeting is the equivalent of spitting in the eye of the king’s firstborn son.
For the next ninety minutes, I go through Penny’s diary to see if any one of her catch-ups are out of office this week. Great, Laura’s on holiday, so I can cancel her thirty minutes. I ask Gabby’s assistant if she can be free for that time and she agrees to move things around to accommodate. I thank her as profusely as one can over email without exhausting the exclamation mark key, however I know there’ll come a time where I must reciprocate similar generosity or risk losing any future favor.
I notice Thom and Penny have two meetings scheduled in this week and request the hour be reduced to thirty, leaving thirty minutes free at 11:00 A.M., but Sabrina is busy. 11:30 A.M.? Yes, Sabrina can make that, but Penny’s meant to be in a cafe in Leicester Square at 12:30 P.M., so I’ll need to reschedule Bridgette’s catch-up. I reach out to her PA, who responds with “Maybe … can you check if that’s all right with Susanna?” Thankfully it is, and by the end, all three meetings are in.
I push out from under my desk to use the bathroom when— “Maddie?” Penny steps out of her office. “Can you run me the total sales figures for Morgan Taylor’s titles with us and then a separate report with his figures for other publishers? I also need our pub schedule for the next two years printed out on A-three and please categorize by month to include author, illustrator, ISBN, price, product type, and editor. I’ve also just sent you an email with a letter, can you put that letter on headed paper—it should be somewhere on the server, have a look—and print me nine copies ahead of tomorrow’s ten A.M. meeting. I’ll also need its standing agenda and previous minutes.” She smiles knowingly. “Do I need to repeat anything?”
I look down at my notepad and it’s like I’ve drawn spider’s legs across the page. “No, I’ve got it.”
“Thank you.” She walks out.
I look around and the girl in front of me smiles, lopsidedly, and widens her eyes. I know her name is Eliza. She chuckles and it could be disingenuous, but her face suggests otherwise. It’s round with permanently pink cheeks and she has brown Raphaelite hair that reaches the tail of her back. I smile and she mirrors it before dropping behind her computer again.
MT’s sales figures at OTP
Letter on OTP headed paper x9
Pub schedules on A3
* * *
I have jollof rice and salad for lunch. I’m glad to eat at two because the dining room’s emptying after the one o’clock rush. Back at CGT, I once made the mistake of sitting with my colleagues for lunch.
“Oh, what do you have there, Maddie?” Claire asked. “Is that African rice?”
I explained jollof rice as best I could whilst looking at their lunches. Jacket potato. Soup. Jacket potato. Sandwich. Sandwich.
“I bet it’s good.” She smiled. “Smells spicy.”
I tried to laugh (because what other response was available?), but it came out as just an exhale of air through my nose.
* * *
After my lunchtime walk, I spot a missed call from Dawoud. He doesn’t usually call me and my heart skips a beat. No, if something were wrong with Dad, I would have heard from Mum as well. When I call Dawoud back, I find out he only phoned to ask me to order more catheters.
He could ask Mum to do that, but instead I say, “Sure, of course. I’ll do it now.” Just because I’ve moved out doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do anything for Dad. It only takes me two minutes to log on to the website and place an order.
I’m about to let Mum know I’ve done this, but a message from her is already sitting in our chat. Oh, she’s sent me a voice note. She never does that. I didn’t think she knew how. I press Play.
“MADELEINE!”
Of course she’s shouting. I lower the volume on my earphones.
“MADELEINE! I HAVE JUST DISCOVERED VOICE ACTIVATION MESSAGES ON THE WHATSAPP. LOOK AT HOW YOUR MOTHER IS—”
The message ends there.
* * *
I return to my desk and prioritize Penny’s list. I only suffer a few hiccups, mainly with the printer because they’re all bastards and will likely lead the technological charge in the eventual war against humans, but I’ve finished everything before Penny returns from her last meeting of the day. She walks into her office, picks up the stack of papers I left on her desk, and leafs through them.
“This is everything,” she says.
I wait in case it’s a question.
She looks surprised. “Thank you, Maddie.”
“You’re welcome.”
She closes her door, and Eliza pops up again.
“Well done,” she mouths with a thumbs-up.
I mock wipe my brow and mouth, “Thanks!”
* * *