Page 81 of Behind Frenemy Lines

“It felt like you were gone a long time,” said Charles.

I glanced at the time on my computer screen. The exchange with Arthur had taken all of thirty minutes.

In that half an hour, I’d taken a wrecking ball to my relationship with my boss and my career. Everything I had spent my entire adult life building up was gone.

You’re well and truly buggered now, Kriya,I thought.

But I didn’t feel it. I felt free.

“Your timing was impeccable,” I said. “I was trying to decide whether I should step on Arthur’s foot, or kick him in the balls.”

Charles wasn’t in a mood to see the funny side. “Are you OK?”

I touched my arm gingerly. It felt tender where Arthur had grabbed it. “Just a bruise. Nothing serious.”

Charles’s face darkened. He jumped to his feet, moving to the window, then came back to his desk, looking over at me. “This is intolerable. I know you haven’t wanted to escalate, but something has to be done about him.” He was bouncingon the soles of his feet, as though he was on the verge of bolting.

I wasn’t sure it was HR he was going to bolt to. I wouldn’t have taken bets on Arthur’s chances if Charles met him in the corridor in this temper.

“I’ve resigned,” I said. “I told Arthur just now.”

That stopped Charles in his tracks. He sat down with a thump. “What?”

I told him about what had happened, from the moment I saw Emily in Arthur’s office. I didn’t go into why I’d been heading to Arthur’s office in the first place. Charles could probably guess, but he didn’t ask, which was a greater kindness than I deserved.

“So you don’t need to do anything,” I concluded. “I’m going to email HR to give notice in writing. And I’m going to ask for a meeting, so I can tell them about Arthur. I’ll need to talk to Emily, confirm if she’s OK with me mentioning what happened with her. If she doesn’t want to get involved, I’ll stick to my story. Hopefully that’s bad enough for them to take it seriously.”

“I should think so,” said Charles.

He looked so fierce it made me smile, but only for a moment. I didn’t regret anything I’d said to Arthur, but it was coming home to me how wrong I had been about him. How little he resembled the person I’d thought him, and how much I was losing, in finally accepting that.

Mostly, I felt incredibly stupid. First Tom, now Arthur. I was used to thinking of myself as reasonably intelligent. How had I wasted so many years of my life on these terrible men?

“You’re right,” I said. “The situation isn’t sustainable. So long as I thought I was the only one having issues with Arthur, it was harder to make that call. But clearly it’s a wider problem.” I leaned back in my chair, sighing. “I thought I knew Arthur so well. I can’t believe it took me so long to see him for who he is.”

Charles did not chime in with my self-recriminations—which showed extraordinary restraint on his part, all things considered. “Have you told anyone else about resigning?”

“Just Arthur. I didn’t know I was going to give notice until I said it.”

“If you haven’t given notice in writing yet, it doesn’t have to be final,” said Charles. “Arthur’s not the only partner at the firm. I’m sure Farah would have your back, if you told her about everything that’s happened. She’s in a Board meeting for the rest of the day, but you might be able to catch her in the evening, or tomorrow.”

“That’s a good idea.” Partners divided into two categories: the surprisingly human ones, and all the others. Farah was one of the former, a rare breed. “I’ll see if I can catch up with her before I speak to HR about Arthur. It would be helpful to have Farah on side, and it might encourage Emily to raise a complaint about him too. But as for giving notice,” I said, “that’s been a long time coming. I’m not going to resile now.”

The practicalities of the situation were beginning to obtrude. I had a lot of feelings about how stupid I had been and for how long—but I’d have to deal with those another time. I needed to crack on.

In theory I had a week left at the firm, starting now. The fact I was on probation worked both ways: the firm only had to let me know a week in advance of firing me, but I didn’t owe them any more than a week’s warning of my departure.

But I didn’t know if I was going to be allowed to work out my notice period. If I were Arthur, I’d want to get in with my version of events first—discredit me, before I could discredit him.

It was a good thing I’d never had the chance to confide in him about my dilemma regarding the instruction from Shaw Boey. It would have been the perfect excuse for him: He could have said that I was contemplating gross misconduct and needed to be escorted off the premises, out of reach of client confidential information, as soon as possible.

The only person whodidknow I’d been contemplating gross misconduct was staring at me now from across the room, looking tragic, as though someone had run over his cat.

“Are you going to be all right?” said Charles.

“I’ll be fine.” I’d been saving up for a deposit on my own place, back when I’d thought I was going to buy with Tom, so technically I had enough money to cover my costs and keep Amma and Appa housed for a while. It wasn’t like I was in a rush to buy a home now.

I’d never wanted to be in a position where I had to dip into my savings. When I was a kid, Amma and Appa had lived hand to mouth, despite Appa’s government servant’s salary. Every unexpected expense had been a crisis, a potential disaster. Now, in their old age, they didn’t have a nest egg: they had me.

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