All-out war

Eventually, feeling like I am sinking in a river called ‘No Information’, I walk over to Louise’s desk and try to look as nonchalant as I possibly can even though my heart is beating so fast from all the anxiety I am feeling that I am convinced it is about to burst out of my chest. ILLUSTRATION | JOSEPH NGARI

What you need to know:

  • “Listen, Fatma, Bertha saw you at the hospital with us on the day that Jo gave birth. You think she doesn’t know who you’re calling right now!? Just get back in there and be very nice and cooperative. If she calls me a bad word, you’d better have two bad words to call me as well otherwise she is going to make your life very difficult!”
  • My cheek muscles are starting to shake from the effort of keeping my fake smile on my face. I don’t even wait for Louise’s answer, I turn and literally run back into my office to wait out the hours until Bertha comes in.
  • A couple of times I see Louise look up from her work towards me, a look of genuine concern on her face. Unfortunately, this is the one time I feel I cannot confide in her.

“Why aren’t you here!?” Fatma whisper-shouts into the phone. I am sitting in my office, frozen in my seat, unable to answer, as Fatma tells me how Bertha walked into her advertising agency’s office earlier this morning and got them into a meeting – without me.

“What do you mean?” I ask hoarsely. All marketing matters are my business. It’s my territory, damn it! And if Bertha has something she wants to tell the agency herself that’s not a problem – but the courteous thing to do would be to let me know… and to invite me to the meeting!

“I mean that she’s here, in our boardroom, discussing the marketing concepts for the new soap you guys are launching next month,” Fatma continues.

“Why are you whispering?” I ask. “Are you calling me from inside the boardroom?”

“No, I am standing just outside the door. I excused myself for a few seconds and told them I had an important scheduled call to make, so I came out and here I am.”

“Oh no,” all the blood drains from my face. Bertha knows that Fatma and I are friends. Being as astute as she is, she would know that Fatma is out here alerting me. “Fatma, get back inside that meeting room right now and don’t call me at all for the rest of the day!” I sit up in my chair, the urgency of the situation becoming very clear.

“But I just-,”

“Listen, Fatma, Bertha saw you at the hospital with us on the day that Jo gave birth. You think she doesn’t know who you’re calling right now!? Just get back in there and be very nice and cooperative. If she calls me a bad word, you’d better have two bad words to call me as well otherwise she is going to make your life very difficult!”

“She wouldn’t do that, I don’t work for her,” Fatma hisses.

TWO OPTIONS

“I am starting to see just how devious she is,” I say. “Now stop talking and get back in there!” And then I hang up the phone and spend the rest of my morning tapping anxiously at my computer keyboard, not quite seeing what I am doing but doing it anyway; my mind is stuck on the meeting, what could have inspired it, and what’s going to come out of it. Eventually, feeling like I am sinking in a river called ‘No Information’, I walk over to Louise’s desk and try to look as nonchalant as I possibly can even though my heart is beating so fast from all the anxiety I am feeling that I am convinced it is about to burst out of my chest.

“Say, might you have an idea where Bertha is? Is she in her office yet?” I ask her. Louise looks up from her typing and gives me a curious look. Then she takes off her reading glasses and leans back in her chair so I can see her growing baby bump.

“No, she didn’t tell me where she would be, she just called about two hours ago to say she would be late,” she says. “Liz are you ok?”

“Yes, yes,” I fix my lips into something that I hope resembles a smile and wave my hands as casually as I can. “I’m all good, I just wanted some approvals from her. Ok then, I’ll just wait until she gets here. You’ll let me know? And how’s baby doing?” My cheek muscles are starting to shake from the effort of keeping my fake smile on my face. I don’t even wait for Louise’s answer, I turn and literally run back into my office to wait out the hours until Bertha comes in. A couple of times I see Louise look up from her work towards me, a look of genuine concern on her face. Unfortunately, this is the one time I feel I cannot confide in her.

Bertha does not return that day. Instead, towards 6pm, I get another phone call from Fatma. “That *#$^*#!” she yells into the phone before I even have a chance to offer salutations. “I don’t know how you work with her!”

“Ok, calm down and tell me what happened,” I say.

And Fatma tells me: After the meeting, Bertha called the agency managing director aside. When they were done and Bertha had left, her MD asked to see Fatma.

“He says that Bertha has accused us of giving you kickbacks to hire us. He says Bertha says she knows that you and I are friends, and that I used company funds to bribe you and then took a cut of the money. She says she has proof. And she also says she wants me fired or else she’s going to cancel our contract and look for another agency. Oh, Liz, what do we do!?”