Page 90 of The Lucky Escape

Inside was a three-page document stapled together, and a single loose cover letter. I read it as Chen made a show of checking emails on her phone, as if she couldn’t care less.

Dear Ms Wiig,it said.

We were thrilled to meet with you last week at our Antwerp headquarters. Your reputation as a great mind and extraordinary thinker precedes you, and to hear your thoughts on the manipulations of coding to debug the quantum software, as well further insight into the abstract manipulations of London’scurrent work in the system modelling and simulation of optical fibre lasers, was exciting and extremely promising.

We have no doubt about the ways your relocation to the Antwerp office would positively contribute to the intellectual life of the institution, and as such please find enclosed the terms of our offer of employment here, which we are confident you will find favourable.

If you have any questions please do not hesitate to reach out. Otherwise, we look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience.

I flicked through the terms of the offer, scanning sections about the relocation fee they’d pay to help me ship my stuff and get me settled, including covering six weeks in a central Airbnb while I found somewhere to live. They were offering me what was basically a thirty-five per cent wage increase, two return flights annually to get back home, and twenty-five vacation days.

‘This is incredibly generous,’ I said, once I’d finished reading everything.

‘I’ll be sorry to see you go,’ Chen agreed, putting her phone back down on the table.

I shook my head. ‘But I’m not saying yes.’

She blinked. ‘Of course you are.’

‘I don’t want to live in Antwerp,’ I said. ‘It’s beautiful, but it’s not for me. I have too much here, in London.’

She blinked again. ‘Aren’t you at least going to use it as leverage to get a salary increase here?’

‘I’d like you to match the terms in the letter for the position I have here, yes,’ I said. Adzo had made me promise I’d bargain with her, giving me a pep talk about how to ask for what I needed.

‘You want a promotion.’

It wasn’t a question.

‘No,’ I said. ‘I want my loyalty to this office taken into consideration when it comes to my yearly compensation review. I won’t be leaving for Antwerp, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t look for something else here if I don’t feel valued.’

I surprised myself with how confident I sounded – exactly as matter-of-fact as Adzo had instructed me to. It wasn’t about me, it was just a contract. That’s all.

‘If there’s no fiscal wiggle room,’ I carried on, ‘I’d consider the option of a nine-day fortnight. In fact …’ I was warming to my theme. Asking for what I wanted was fun! ‘That would be preferable. I’d prefer to stay at the London office, in the position I am in, and in lieu of a wage increase I’d have every other Friday off. I’m pursuing some extra study, you see.’

I couldn’t be sure, because her face barely registered what I was saying, but I swear there was a flicker of amusement that pulled the corner of her mouth upwards, just a little.

‘And you don’t want to take some time to reflect on this? Once I email them your refusal, you won’t be able to change your mind.’

‘I won’t change my mind,’ I assured her, and as I said it I knew it was true. Antwerp would be amazing for somebody else, but not for me. My life was in London, with the Core Four and Freddie and the new flat and a day a week to do something else. That was enough. In fact, it was more than enough. It was way too much to give up.

I felt ten feet tall as I left to walk off what had just happened. The sun was shining, even though it was chilly, and London was bustling and metropolitan. I passed posters for theatre productions and women walking dogs and couples holdinghands and a group of schoolkids jostling on the pavement, being raucous and silly. I smiled at their laughter, right as a man cleared his throat and said,

‘For God’s sake, could you take it down a decibel or twenty?’

One of the sixth-formers – identifiable by a polyester high street suit instead of a school-issued blazer with the crest sewn onto the breast pocket – heckled loudly, ‘All right, Grandad, keep your teeth in.’ It forced her schoolmates to howl at her comeback, saying variations of ‘Burn!’ and ‘Ouch, Mr!’ They jostled down the pavement and I had to step out of their way. In the space between where they’d been and where I stood was Alexander.

‘Annie.’

He was sat opposite a young, twenty-something brunette I vaguely recognized but couldn’t place, at a pavement café. He wore a denim shirt with slim-fit chinos that revealed bare ankles, which didn’t seem to suit him. He looked mismatched with his subtly lined face sitting at odds with his white trainers, like the top half hadn’t passed along the memo that the bottom half of him wasn’t the same age as his companion. I thought about ignoring him, but he looked so hopeful as he said my name that I made a choice to stay where I was.

‘Hello,’ I said.

I realized that his outspread hand was clutching the fingers of the twenty-something, and as he saw me notice he pulled away. The woman looked hurt.

‘Cameron,’ she said, with a little wave. ‘We met at the Christmas party last year.’

‘Yes,’ I said, placing her now. ‘Alexander’s new assistant. Not new anymore I suppose.’

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