APART FROM SILENT Jean who I’m not sure even left the office for Christmas, I was the only person on my floor. It took me a million years to get inside because the security guard was a weird seasonal one who didn’t believe that I worked for a newspaper.
When I asked why else I’d be here in the middle of the holiday break when I could be at home, his continued line was: “Because you might be a troublemaker.”
I’d forgotten my pass at home, but eventually he let me in after I forced him to take the lift up to the fifth floor and look at the poster of me that was in the cafeteria. I didn’t want to take part in it, but the paper had been doing a whole “we are diverse” initiative and asked if I would be on the supporting images, as I am one of four diverse members of staff who don’t work in the service divisions. The poster shows me, Vishnay from the finance supplement, and Josey from music all standing awkwardly underneath the words THE DAILY READ: NEWS FOR ALL. Zainab in digital had refused to take part.
When, in my induction, the Spanish HR assistant quite literally said to me: “You are very lucky to be working here! There are others like you, except not the same color,” I wasn’t sure that I was hearing her properly, so asked her to repeat what she’d said. “You know! There are darker ones, but they’re in IT.” I’d opened my mouth to respond (though still have no idea what I was going to say), but she jumped in with: “Don’t worry, my husband is black, so I know about you and your people.” She’s gone now. Was she fired? I wouldn’t be surprised.
THE CORGIS
Queenie
Guess where I am
Kyazike
LOL. Happy Christmas. Where are you? You’re lucky you ain’t in Staines, nothing to do here, fam
Darcy
In bed. You’re almost always in bed
Queenie
I’m at the office, THANKS
Darcy
People don’t usually start with the New Year’s resolutions the day after Christmas. Where has this dedication come from?
Queenie
Gina made me come in to sort out something Chuck did. It’s not bad, actually. Unlike you normal people, my family are mainly intolerable. My granddad made us watch the news while we ate dinner
Queenie
Anyway, text company is appreciated while I’m here, thanks
Queenie
Please. Stories, memes, pictures of what you got, anything
Silent Jean kept gliding past my desk silently to go and make tea. What did she achieve by staring at me? After my second hour of trying to make sense of Chuck’s madness and shoving 1K miniature Snickers down my throat, I heard the lift doors open.
Thankful to have the company of somebody who wasn’t Jean, I turned around to see Ted striding through the doors. “What are you doing here?” I asked, less thankful that it was him.
“I needed to file something. ‘Best Boxing Day Goals.’?” He looked oddly proud of that headline, as though it contained any wordplay. “Quiet down here,” Ted observed. “What are you doing here?” He sat in the chair next to mine.
“Gina asked me to come in and fix something. She can’t do it herself because she’s ‘stuck in Suffolk,’?” I said breezily. “Anyway, I should just get on with this.” I turned to my screen, so thrown by Ted appearing suddenly that I couldn’t remember what I needed to do. What can you do in this situation but pretend to type? What if heartbreak had made me genuinely mentally unwell?
“You’re pretending to type,” Ted assessed.
“I’m doing very important work here,” I assured him. “Please leave me in peace.”
“You didn’t reply to my e-mail.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Queenie.” Ted put a hand on mine. “I’ve missed you.”
“Don’t do this again.” I pulled my hand away and carried on looking at my screen. “Do I need to remind you that there’s CCTV in this office? And Jean is over there!”
“Can I convince you to go for a little, er, jaunt with me?” Ted asked quietly.
I got up and walked toward the bathroom. I could hear Ted following me, and sped up. Silent Jean looked up from her desk, scared as though I were charging toward her. I crossed the office and made it into the disabled loo. I locked myself in.
“Queenie, come on,” Ted whispered through the door.
“Come on nothing. Leave me alone, please. What you’re technically doing is stalking. I could get Jean to call the police.”
“What, that woman who haunts the building? That’s a bit dramatic. Come out of there, please. I need to explain.”
I unlocked the door and tried to push it open, but felt something against it. I shoved against it with my whole weight.
“Ow!” It only opened partway. I put my head around the door and saw Ted on the floor leaning against it. I remembered when Tom used to console me outside the bathroom door, and shook my head to chase the memory away.
“I didn’t think you’d open it, stubborn as you are,” Ted said, standing up slowly and making a big thing about stretching his legs out. “I’m an old man, Queenie.” He forced a laugh.
“You’re only six years older than me, Ted. And I’m only coming out because I need to finish my work.”
I stepped past him and walked over to my desk. He must have finally got the message because he didn’t follow me.
I finished correcting Chuck’s numerous errors at five, filed the new version, e-mailed Gina, and grabbed my stuff to head out of the office. I was close to the lift when someone grabbed my hand. I snatched my whole body out of their reach.
Ted placed his hands on my waist and pulled me up and into the lift.
“Cameras!” I reminded him. “What if someone is watching!?”
He stood directly behind me and kissed my neck. “Let them see,” he whispered into my ear.
“Fuck it,” I purred, melting into him.
We got up to Ted’s floor, and as soon as we stepped through the lift doors he took a sharp right and opened the door to the disabled bathroom.
“After you,” he said. My heart beginning to beat faster, I walked in like some sort of idiot incapable of independent thought. Ted followed and locked the door behind him. He kissed me and pushed me against the wall, unbuttoning my shirt with confident hands. I undid his coat and he shrugged it onto the floor. I tried to undo his shirt, but he took my hands and moved them down by my sides.
“No, stop, leave it. I need to keep it on.” He tore my shirt off and threw it on the floor before unhooking my bra and dropping it at my feet. He took my breasts in his hands and squeezed them roughly, staring at me as he sucked one nipple and then the other. I guess it’s like that thing when a woman is meant to maintain eye contact with a man while she sucks his dick? I’ve never done it because I think that it’s weird. When you’re on the receiving end of the stare, it’s just as weird.
“I can’t believe I’m finally seeing your tits,” Ted panted.
“And did you think it would happen in the work toilets?” I asked, using humor to give me some distance from what was happening. If I didn’t want this, why was I letting it happen? Surely I wanted this?
He lifted up my skirt and pulled my tights down to my knees as he continued to stare a little too intensely into my eyes. With two fingers he began to knead at me through my knickers. “I love that. I love feeling you. Do you like it?” he asked.
“Sure.” I nodded, undoing his belt, deciding that I wanted it to happen but also to be over quickly. I slipped my hand into his jeans and his boxers, grabbing his erection.
“You’re so big!” I said truthfully, for the second time in my life. I was shocked; I had him down as a man with a very small, very narrow penis.
“You like that?” he asked, moving my knickers to the side and inserting a finger into me.
“I want to fuck you,” he said between greedy kisses. “Turn around, bend over.” I shook my head. He picked up his coat and laid it out on the floor. I lowered myself onto it awkwardly, not an easy or glamorous move when your tights are around your knees. He unzipped his jeans, pulled out his erection, and stared at me as I looked up at him from the floor.