Sophie Kinsella - Remember Me?

I bought Debs a cross studded with tiny diamonds. She’s so crazy about jewelry, and you can’t go wrong with a cross. She has to love it.

In silence Debs pulls off the wrapping.

“I know it’s quite extravagant,” I say nervously. “But I wanted to get something really special-”

“This is a cross!” Debs thrusts the box back at me, her nose wrinkled as though it smells of something rancid. “I can’t wear this! I’m Jewish.”

“You’re Jewish?” My mouth hangs open. “Since when?”

“Since I’ve been engaged to Jacob,” she says as though it’s obvious. “I’ve converted.”

“Wow!” I say joyfully. “You’re engaged?” And of course now I can’t miss the platinum ring on her left hand, with a diamond lodged right in the center of the band. Debs wears so many rings, I hadn’t noticed it. “When’s the wedding?” My words spill out in excitement. “Where’s it happening?”

“Next month.” She looks away. “In Wiltshire.”

“Next month! Oh my God, Debs! But I haven’t got-”

I break off abruptly into a kind of hot, thudding silence. I was about to say “But I haven’t got an invitation.”

I haven’t got an invitation because I haven’t been invited.

“I mean…um…congratulations!” Somehow I keep a bright smile plastered on my face. “I hope it all goes brilliantly. And don’t worry, I can easily return the cross…and the watch…and the perfume…” With trembling fingers I start stuffing all the ripped wrapping paper into one of the gift bags.

“Yeah,” Fi says in an awkward voice. “Well, see you, Lexi.”

“Bye.” Debs still can’t look me in the eye. They both walk off and I watch them go, my chin stiff from wanting to cry.

Great work, Lexi. You didn’t win your friends back-you just fucked up everything even more.

“A present for me?” Byron’s sarcastic voice hits the back of my head and I turn to see him loping along the corridor, coffee in hand. “How sweet of you, Lexi!”

God, he gives me the creeps. He’s the snake.

“Hi, Byron,” I say as briskly as I can. “Good to see you.”

Summoning all my strength, I lift my chin high and sweep a stray hair back off my face. I can’t crumble.

“It’s very brave of you to come back, Lexi,” Byron says as we head down the corridor. “Very admirable.”

“Not really!” I say as confidently as I can. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well, any questions, you know where I am. Although today I’ll be with James Garrison most of the day. You remember James Garrison?”

Bloody bloody bloody. Why does he pick the people I’ve never heard of?

“Remind me,” I say reluctantly.

“He’s head of our distributor, Southeys? They distribute stock around the country? Like, carpet, flooring, the stuff we sell? They drive it around in lorries?” His tone is polite, but he’s smirking.

“Yes, I remember Southeys,” I say cuttingly. “Thanks. Why are you seeing them?”

“Well,” says Byron after a pause. “The truth is, they’ve lost their way. It’s crunch time. If they can’t improve their systems, we’re going to have to look elsewhere.”

“Right.” I nod in as bosslike a way as I can. “Well, keep me posted.” We’ve reached my office and I open the door. “See you later, Byron.”

I close the door, dump my gift bags on the sofa, open the filing cabinet, and take out an entire drawer’s worth of files. Trying not to feel daunted, I sit down at the desk and open the first one, which contains minutes of departmental meetings.

Three years. I can catch up on three years. It’s not that long.

Twenty minutes later, my brain is already aching. I haven’t read anything serious or heavy for what seems like months-and this stuff is as dense as treacle. Budget discussions. Contracts up for renewal. Performance evaluations. I feel like I’m back at college, doing about six degrees at once.

I’ve started a sheet of paper: Questions to ask, and already I’m onto the second side.

“How are you doing?” The door has opened silently and Byron is looking in. Doesn’t he knock?

“Fine,” I say defensively. “Really well. I just have a couple of tiny questions…”

“Fire away.” He leans against the doorjamb.

“Okay. First, what’s QAS?”

“That’s our new accounting system software. Everyone’s been trained in it.”

“Well, I can get trained too,” I say briskly, scribbling on my sheet. “And what’s Services.com?”

“Our online customer service provider.”

“What?” I wrinkle my brow, confused. “But what about the customer services department?”

“All made redundant years ago,” says Byron, sounding bored. “The company was restructured and a load of departments were contracted out.”

“Right.” I nod, trying to take all this in, and glance down at my sheet again. “So what about BD Brooks? What’s that?”

“They’re our ad agency,” Byron says with exaggerated patience. “They make advertisements for us, on the radio and the TV-”

“I know what an ad agency is!” I snap, more hotly than I intended. “So, what happened to Pinkham Smith? We’ve had such a great relationship with them-”

“They don’t exist anymore.” Byron rolls his eyes. “They went bust. Jesus, Lexi, you don’t know a bloody thing, do you?”

I open my mouth to retort-but I can’t. He’s right. It’s as if the landscape I knew has been swept away by some kind of hurricane. Everything’s been rebuilt and I don’t recognize any of it.

“You’re never going to pick all this up again.” Byron is surveying me pityingly.

“Yes, I am!”

“Lexi, face it. You’re mentally ill. You shouldn’t be putting your head under this kind of strain-”

“I’m not mentally ill!” I exclaim furiously, and get to my feet. I push roughly past Byron and out the door, and Clare looks up in alarm, snapping her mobile phone shut.

“Hi, Lexi. Did you want something? A cup of coffee?”

She looks terrified, like I’m about to bite her head off or fire her or something. Okay, now is my chance to show her I’m not a bitch-boss-from-hell. I’m me.

“Hi, Clare!” I say in my most friendly, warm manner, and perch on the corner of her desk. “Everything okay?”

“Um…yes.” Her eyes are wide and wary.

“I just wondered if you’d like me to get you a coffee?”

“You?” She stares as though suspecting a trick. “Get me a coffee?”

“Yes! Why not?” I beam, and she flinches.

“It’s…it’s okay.” She slides out of her chair, her eyes fixed on me as though she thinks I really am a cobra. “I’ll get one.”

“Wait!” I say almost desperately. “You know, Clare, I’d like to get to know you better. Maybe one day we could have lunch together…hang out…go shopping…”

Clare looks even more pole-axed than before.

“Um…yeah. Okay, Lexi,” she mumbles, and scuttles down the corridor. I turn to see Byron still in the doorway, cracking up.

“What?” I snap.

“You really are a different person, aren’t you?” He raises his eyebrows in wonder.

“Maybe I just want to be friendly with my staff and treat them with respect,” I say defiantly. “Anything wrong with that?”

“No!” Byron lifts his hands. “Lexi, that’s a great idea.” He runs his eyes over me, that sarcastic smile still at his lips, then clicks his tongue as though remembering something. “That reminds me. Before I shoot off, there’s one thing I left for you to deal with as director of the department. I thought it only right.”

At last. He’s treating me like the boss.

“Oh, yes?” I lift my chin. “What is it?”