Страница 64

'Don't patronize me! This wasn't team-work. It was totally my idea. I put it in for my grandpa!'

Damn. I didn't quite mean to let that slip out.

'First your parents. Now your grandpa,' says Paul, turning to look at me. 'Emma, remind me,

is this Bring Your Entire Family To Work week?'

'No! It's just…' I begin, a little hot under his gaze. 'You said you were going to axe Panther

Bars, so I… I thought I'd give him and his friends some money off, and they could all stock

up. I tried to tell you at that big meeting, my grandfather loves Panther Bars! And so do all his

friends. If you ask me, you should be marketing Panther Bars at them, not teenagers.'

There's silence. Paul looks astonished.

'You know, in Scandinavia, they're coming to the same conclusion,' he says. 'That's what this

new research shows.'

'Oh,' I say. 'Well… there you go.'

'So why does this older generation like Panther Bars so much, Emma? Do you know?' He

sounds genuinely fascinated.

'Yes, of course I know.'

'It's the grey pound,' puts in Nick wisely. 'Demographic shifts in the pensionable population

are accounting for-'

'No it's not!' I say impatiently. 'It's because… because…' Oh God, Grandpa will absolutely

kill me for saying this. 'It's because… they don't pull out their false teeth.'

There's a staggered pause. Then Paul throws back his head and roars with laughter. 'False

teeth,' he says, wiping his eyes. 'That is sheer bloody genius, Emma. False teeth!'

He chuckles again and I stare back at him, feeling the blood beating in my head. I've got the

strangest feeling. Like something's building up inside me, as though I'm about to-

'So can I have a promotion?'

'What?' Paul looks up.

Did I really just say that? Out loud?

'Can I have a promotion?' My voice is trembling slightly, but I hold firm. 'You said if I

created my own opportunities I could have a promotion. That's what you said. Isn't this

creating my own opportunities?'

Paul looks at me for a few moments, blinking, saying nothing.

'You know, Emma Corrigan,' he says at last. 'You are one of the most… one of the most

surprising people I've ever known.'

'Is that a yes?' I persist.

There's silence in the entire office. Everyone's waiting to see what he'll say.

'Oh, for God's sake,' he says, rolling his eyes. 'All right! You can have a promotion. Is that it?'

'No,' I hear myself saying, my heart beating even more furiously. 'There's more. Paul, I broke

your World Cup mug.'

'What?' He looks gobsmacked.

'I'm really sorry. I'll buy you another one.' I look around the silent, gawping office. 'And it

was me who jammed the copier that time. In fact… all the times. And that bottom…' Amid

agog faces, I walk to the pin-board and rip down the photocopied, G-stringed bottom. 'That's

mine, and I don't want it up there any more.' I swivel round. 'And Artemis, about your spider

plant…'

'What?' she says suspiciously.

I stare at her, in her Burberry raincoat and her designer spectacles, and her smug, I'm-betterthan-

you face.

OK, let's not get carried away. 'I… I can't think what's wrong with it.' I smile at her. 'Have a

good meeting.'

For the rest of the day, I am totally exhilarated. Kind of shocked and exhilarated, all at the

same time. I can't believe I'm getting a promotion. I'm actually going to be a Marketing

Executive!

But it's not just that. I don't quite know what's happened to me. I feel like a whole new person.

So what if I broke Paul's mug? Who cares? So what if everyone knows how much I weigh?

Who cares? Goodbye old, crap Emma, who hides her Oxfam bags under her desk. Hello new,