No Sex in the City (35 page)

‘Good morning, Shae,’ I say with exaggerated cheerfulness.

‘Esma! Welcome back! How are you feeling?’

‘Great. Is Danny in?’

‘Yes, he’s in his office. He’s been a bloody tyrant while you’ve been off sick. Thank God you’re back. You’re the only one who knows how to deal with him.’ She starts to fill me in on the office gossip, but I cut her off.

‘How about we chat later this morning? I’ve got work to catch up on.’

I storm straight towards Danny’s office, knock once and barge in. ‘Good morning, Danny!’ I cry buoyantly.

His face positively lights up when he sees me. He jumps up. ‘Esma! You’re back! How are you feeling?’

‘Fine thanks, Danny,’ I say, falling into a chair, crossing my legs and fixing him with a dazzling smile. ‘I’ve finished the proposal you wanted me to do.’

The idiot seems to have forgotten. ‘Proposal? What proposal?’

‘The proposal you asked me to prepare after you withdrew your offer of promotion.’ I flash him an insincere smile.

‘Oh, come on, Esma,’ he says jovially, ‘don’t be like that. It wasn’t an official offer. And it wasn’t an official withdrawal, either.’

A look from me silences him. He sits back down in his chair, loosens his tie.

‘Well, here it is,’ I say grimly, throwing a manilla folder down in front of him. ‘Please read through it now.’

‘Okay,’ he says warily. He opens up the folder and starts to read aloud, looking queasier and paler with every second.

Dear Mr Blagojevic,

You recently informed me in writing that I would be promoted and receive a pay increase prior to the end of this financial year. But then, for no apparent reason, the offer of promotion was withdrawn. Despite having previously praised my performance, you have now asked me to effectively make a case as to why I deserve a promotion, and how I can go beyond my KPIs.

Accordingly, here are my thoughts.

1. It’s very difficult to concentrate on work when I am experiencing a constant feeling of slight anxiety. Will you, my boss, pay me an inappropriate compliment today? Will you discuss your private life? Confide in me about your wife’s ovulation cycle? Ask my opinion about what kind of lingerie to buy for her? Or concoct fake weekend work meetings to get me into the office to spend some time alone with you?

2. Although this office has state-of-the-art IT systems, I assume Facebook was never meant to be part of our online work communications. I would appreciate you explaining to me why you feel you have the right to pose inappropriate and suggestive messages on my Facebook wall.

3. Furthermore, while I have provided my mobile telephone number for work purposes, I am equally confused as to why you feel the need to send me text messages.

Given your fondness for communicating via Facebook, I am posting these thoughts onto your wall, hoping you will be able to respond.

Kind regards, Esma

‘What the fuck?’

‘What’s wrong, Danny?’ I ask innocently.

He launches at his keyboard and starts typing frantically. ‘The fuck you put this on Facebook!’

I fold my arms across my chest and stare at him with a smug expression on my face.

‘My wife will see. Everybody will see! What the fuck do you think—It’s not there? When did you post it? Where the fuck is it?’ He furiously jabs at the keyboard. Beads of sweat have formed on his forehead and his eyes are bulging.

‘Relax,’ I say coolly. ‘It’s not there ... yet.’

He snaps his head up.

‘I haven’t posted it yet.’

He sinks back into his chair and lets out a long, slow breath. ‘Thank fucking hell.’

‘I’ve got something else for you, Danny,’ I say, standing up. I take out an envelope.

‘What the hell is this?’ he demands, ripping it open. He unfolds the letter inside, printed on Ruby’s law firm’s letterhead.

‘That’s a letter of demand. I’ve been putting up with your sexual harassment for too long. I’ve got two words for you, Danny: constructive dismissal. Because I’m hereby giving you notice. I refuse to spend one more day as a victim of sexual harassment.’

‘You have got to be kidding me,’ he says with a bitter laugh. ‘What kind of perverted twist on things is this?’

‘I’ve got emails, text messages, Facebook wall posts, diary entries – I’ve got a mass of evidence that will sink you if I take you to court. And take you to court I will if you don’t comply with my lawyer’s demands. I want a payout to compensate me for the crap you’ve put me through.’

‘Like hell I’ll pay you this!’

‘You’re getting off lightly, believe me. Call your lawyer and see how much you’ll be paying me if I take you to court. I’ll fight you, Danny. All the way.’

‘And you expect me to believe you’d go to court with this? Don’t you think I’ve got stuff on you?’

I laugh out loud. ‘Stuff on
me
? What on earth could you have on me, Danny? All you’ve ever done is lament how
innocent
and
naive
and
pure
I am. The only reason you’ve taunted me is because you never
had
anything on me.’

He gives me a look of such pure rage that for a second I’m worried he’s going to hit me.

‘Who knows about this?’ he eventually asks in a tight voice.

‘My lawyer. And me.’

‘If I pay you this, I’ll be ruined.’

‘Do you think I’m an idiot? This company is raking it in. I’m letting you walk away from all this unscathed. Don’t you get it? You’ve broken the law. Sexual harassment is illegal. I don’t come to work to hear jokes about my sexuality, or to be asked advice about underwear, or to discuss your sex life. I come to do my work and I expect to be treated with respect and dignity.’

I throw my resignation letter onto his desk. ‘Here, read this too. I’m officially resigning. So pick up the phone and speak to my lawyer, because I never want to have to speak to you again.’

I turn on my heel, wrench open the door and storm out of his office. Breathing out, I instantly feel ten kilos lighter. I’m too pumped to wait for the lift so I rush down the fire-exit stairs.

When I’m finally outside the building my legs are wobbly and I’m shaking. I call Ruby.

‘I did it!’ I shout.

She screams.

‘It was exhilarating!’ I start to laugh hysterically, and put my hand up against the wall of the building to balance myself.

‘Are you still in the office?’ she asks.

‘No! I got out of there fast. I bet my life he’ll be on the phone to you soon.’ I have another giggling fit. ‘As of this moment I don’t have a job,’ I gasp. ‘And I’ve essentially just blackmailed my boss!’

‘You’ve done him a favour. He would be a stinking carcass at the end of a court case, believe me. I’m so proud of you.’

‘You should have seen his face when he started reading!’ I calm down a little and say, ‘Ruby, thank you.’

‘Esma, if you ever get into trouble again and don’t tell us, I’ll whip your arse. I’m a boot-camp graduate, remember? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

It’s the sum total of all the little things that have kept us together as friends. The thing about the four of us is that we’ve got history. We did our first European adventure together. I remember when Lisa and I were trapped in Madame Tussauds after closing time and had to scream to be let out. I remember the time we were all in Amsterdam. It was snowing. A junkie walked into Ruby, accused her of bumping him and making him drop his cocaine into the snow, and then demanded money. Nirvana, Lisa and I were freaking out, but Ruby barked back at him that cocaine on snow was a convenient story and that she’d fight him rather than give him money. Scared, he ran away. I remember Nirvana and I had a crush on a guy who went to university with us. We used to swap information about his movements on campus; find out the spare periods in his timetable so we could stalk him together. Pretty pathetic when you come to think of it, but we had lots of fun doing it.

That we’re all opinionated and passionate has meant we’ve argued and fought. There were times during our trip overseas when we’ d have to split for a couple of hours just to get some time apart before we killed each other (Nirvana and Ruby would always clash over the sightseeing itinerary). But we’ve never argued for long, which is why I take it upon myself to declare another No Sex in the City get-together tonight at a fabulous restaurant in Paddington that Ruby recommends, having been there the night before with Alex.

Ruby and I arrive together first, then Nirvana, followed moments later by Lisa. At first Nirvana and Lisa are teeth-jarringly nice to one another and it’s so nauseating to watch that I bang my fork on the table and bellow, ‘For crying out loud, would you both stop being so immature!’

‘What are you talking about?’ Lisa says.

‘All this – this politeness!’ I wave my hand as though I’m swatting a fly.

Nirvana half-laughs. ‘Since when is being polite immature?’

‘That’s more like it!’ I declare.

‘Esma, what on
earth
are you going on about?’ Nirvana says.

‘There’s obviously tension between you both. So just sort it out and move on.’

Lisa lets out a sigh. ‘You know something? You’re insufferable when you’re being a do-gooder.’

‘Thanks,’ I say, grinning madly at her.

Ruby stretches her arms in the air. ‘Esma’s right. Just get it over and done with, will you? I’ll start you off. Nirvana, you overreacted and completely misinterpreted Lisa’s intentions. After years of friendship, you should know better.’ Ruby smacks her hands together and turns to Lisa. ‘As for you, Lisa, we get that you acted ethically, but you have to appreciate that Nirvana felt hurt by your silence. Now, it’s time to kiss and make up because I swear to God I’m not going to allow two of the most intelligent and amazing women I know to fight over a guy.’ Ruby shudders at the prospect.

‘It was never about a guy,’ Nirvana says curtly. She twists her body to face Lisa. ‘The fact is, you knew something pretty significant about my future sister-in-law but didn’t tell me. I get that you have a
code of ethics
.’ She struggles not to roll her eyes. ‘But what hurts is that Neela wasn’t some random person in the street, she was part of the family I was marrying into, and you still treated the whole situation so objectively.’

‘I agonised over telling you,’ Lisa says. ‘It’s not as though it was an easy decision—’

‘I would have thought our friendship made it easy.’

‘Would you have told Anil about Neela? Or kept it to yourself?’

Nirvana can’t answer that question.

‘The thing is,’ Lisa says softly, ‘I couldn’t be sure that Neela wasn’t wrong about how Anil would react. I also didn’t want to risk bad-mouthing him to you in case it was an overreaction on her part. You were in love. How could I risk everything because of what Neela told me?’

‘Well, what did she tell you?’

‘She said she thought that if he knew about the baby he’ d try to persuade her to stay in a bad marriage for the sake of the baby and so as not to lose face by being a single mum.’

Nirvana sucks in her breath and sits in silence, mulling over Lisa’s words.

‘From my point of view,’ Lisa says, ‘that was troubling on many levels,
if
it was true. But I didn’t know if it was true.’

‘It probably was true,’ Nirvana says quietly. ‘The last I heard, Neela went back to Sunil. Anil was so glad. I can’t be certain but I got the impression he was more pleased that she’ d avoided scandal than concerned about whether it was the right decision.’

‘I’m sorry again,’ Lisa says gently, placing her hand tentatively on Nirvana’s arm. ‘Hurting you was the last thing on my mind.’

‘I know.’ Nirvana sighs. ‘Anyway, it’s all over between me and Anil. It doesn’t matter.’

‘He didn’t speak to his mum?’ I ask.

‘He did. But it was a half-hearted effort. I’m just not prepared to take the risk.’ She draws in a deep breath and smiles bravely. ‘I’m devastated, but I know I’ve made the right decision. Anil isn’t worth fighting for. Plus, with everything that’s happened with Neela, I don’t know if I want to be a part of a family that’s so obsessed with how other people see them. There’s no breathing space in that kind of life. I don’t think it has anything to do with Indian culture. I think it’s Anil’s family, particularly his mum, who sees life as a competition.’

‘You deserve better than that,’ Lisa says.

Nirvana lets out a laugh. ‘Well, it looks like I’m back in the singles club again. You’re the only one flying the
I’m in Love
banner now, Ruby.’

Ruby raises her eyebrows. ‘Actually, I think Esma has some news to share.’

I grin at them and Lisa grabs my arm. ‘You made a decision?’

‘Aydin.’

Lisa punches her fist in the air. ‘Yes!’

‘We want the full story,’ Nirvana says.

I tell them about Danny’s Facebook message and Metin’s reaction. And then I start to tell them about Aydin, but as I speak, it occurs to me that I’m gushing, and I suddenly feel guilty for Nirvana’s sake. I cut my long story short, but Nirvana’s not a fool.

‘Don’t you dare,’ she warns me. ‘I know what you’re doing and you better get it out of your head.’

‘I know, I know ... but it’s still so raw for you.’

‘Esma, please shut up.’

‘Wow, Nirvana,’ Ruby says gleefully. ‘We’ve had sarcasm and rudeness in the same evening. This is wonderful progress.’

Nirvana ignores Ruby. ‘I can’t believe I even have to say this, but I’m going to say it once and once only: if any of you ever thinks I’d begrudge you happiness because of what happened with Anil, then you can forget knowing me. Got it?’

‘Loud and clear,’ I say.

‘That’s not a problem for me,’ Ruby says, raising her glass. ‘I love you to bits but I’ll be gushing about Alex until you tell me to shut up.’

‘As for me,’ Lisa says, ‘I’m happy to hold the fort in defence of singledom for a long time to come, so don’t worry.’

We stuff our faces with dinner and a decadent dessert. At Nirvana’s insistence, we confess to her our first impressions of Anil, and she laughs so hard that she has to get up and run to the bathroom to pee. At the end of the night, we stumble out of the restaurant, drunk on an evening of memories and laughter.