Coffee under the desk

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“I enclose one of my fingernails for your information,” the letter signed off.

Bruce stared at the words that had concluded a fairly normal letter. With trepidation he peered inside the thin white envelope previously discarded into the recycle bin. As promised, there lay a generous slice of human fingernail; decorated with blue polish. Bruce now faced a difficult and somewhat macabre dilemma. If he ignored the letter would he antagonise an already rather disturbed individual? Or by entering into correspondence did he run the risk of encouraging them? Either way, he envisioned receiving other disposable human parts in thin white envelopes over the coming weeks.

His ex-wife, Julia, thought the matter rather ordinary.

“Oh Bruce, in today’s climate a woman has to make an impression to climb the ladder of success. This letter has been playing on your mind, yes?”

“Well, I must admit to be rather preoccupied with it.”

“Of course you are. It is merely a devise to grab your attention and make the candidate memorable. This person has no more of a disturbed mind than anyone else trying to get ahead in life. Really, you can be so close minded Bruce.”

Julia sipped her soya latte in the way all corporate lawyers tend to do. Bruce and Julia had been married for three years before it was time to divorce. She had informed him about this time scale on their honeymoon in Cornwall. Seeing his obvious dismay she had assured him that they could still date after the settlement. This had cheered him up no end and they had enjoyed a night of adequate sex. Bruce consulted Julia in all aspects of his life and trusted her judgement implicitly.

“So are you suggesting I invite this woman to an interview?”

“Certainly, I can’t see any reason why you shouldn’t.”

Julia’s electronic organiser beeped, which informed them that their date had concluded. They said their goodbyes and Julia promised to leave possible dates for intercourse with his secretary later.

Bruce returned to his office and began drafting a letter of invitation.

Dear Ms Peters,

Thank you for your letter of application for the position of Personal Assistant. I am pleased to invite you for an interview next week on Tuesday at 9.30am.

Please bring along with you all relevant documentation and evidence to support your application.

Kind regards,

Mr B. Wilkes

He hesitated whether to make a reference to the fingernail. Would it seem rude not to return it or even thank her for her trouble? After some consideration, he typed the following addition to the letter

P.S. I have returned your fingernail that you were kind enough to include.

Satisfied with this response he gave the matter no more thought until the following Tuesday.

On the morning of the interview, Bruce was drinking some herbal tea that Julia had suggested for his skin and was trying to complete a Sudoku puzzle. His secretary, Mrs Cummings, knocked on the door and announced that the candidates had all arrived and were waiting in reception. Bruce finished off his tea and carefully laid the paper to one side and waited for the first candidate.

All three young professionals were quite unremarkable and by the third interview he realised that Ms Peters was not amongst the candidates present. He felt an odd sense of disappointment in the no-show applicant – she had certainly let herself down after all that hard work in grabbing his attention. He forced his mind back to the young lady in front of him. She was currently stating how perfect she was for the job and he conceded that she was probably right. Then again he had thought that about the other two when they had stated that they were the right candidate.

After the young lady had left, Bruce settled down to finish his Sudoku puzzle, when he heard a most unusual commotion coming from outside his office. He heard Mrs Cummings speaking in cross matronly tones at someone who wasn’t him. This was most unprecedented as Mrs Cummings usually only spoke to Bruce in that manner. Eventually a woman with the most extraordinary hair marched into his office.

“Would you please tell the woman with the wrinkles that I am here to get the job?” the young woman demanded, her arms folded in protest.

“Ms Peters I presume? It’s alright Mrs Cummings, she is a candidate for the job as well. Would you like to take a seat please?” Bruce asked politely.

Ms Peters nodded amicably and walked over to the desk and sat on his own leather executive chair cross legged.

Bruce, rather taken back and unsure how to handle the situation decided not to do anything. He went around to the other side of the desk and sat down in the candidate’s chair; set lower down as suggested by Julia to give him more authority during interviews.

“So, Ms Peters, what experience do you have from other positions that would make you the ideal candidate for the job?”

She thought about this for some moments.

“Well I find from lying down – particularly in people’s kitchens – that I can tell instantly what type of people they are.”

“How so? Could you give me an example?”

“A clean white ceiling suggests that they don’t have time for home cooking and so are often stressed and prone to nail biting. A ceiling with stains suggests an artistic mind or someone in need of a ladder and therefore frustrated. My favourite kinds are the ones with last year’s pancakes still attached. They suggest someone who fears looking up as it may cause them to bump into furniture – a paranoid sort with a good heart.”

“So you are a good judge of character?” Bruce offered. “Do you often lie down in people’s kitchens?”

“Oh yes, I find living rooms quite uninteresting.”

The interview was concluded by Ms Peters who had to go and collect her brother currently riding around on the number 12 bus. She thanked him for the offer of the position and would let him know in due course. Bruce couldn’t recall offering her the job, but the woman was so sure about it he obviously did.

Mrs Cummings came in with photocopies of the candidates’ documents. The first three contained normal college certificates and awards. Ms Peters’ document folder contained full dental records, a copy of the beano, a napkin with a ladybird doodle and a certificate for the participation in a cracker eating contest.

On the morning Ms Peters was due to start Bruce still had not heard from her. By 10am he had decided that she had obviously changed her mind about working for him. But at 11.03 Ms Peters entered the office wearing a suit with her hair neatly tied back in a conservative bun.

“Mr Wilkes, you have a meeting in half an hour with one of your clients, your suit for tonight will be waiting in reception after 4pm and here is your morning post,” she stated professionally, handing him the mail.

“So you took the position then?” Bruce asked, checking for thin white envelopes.

“Oh yes, there was another job offer with MI5, but that would have involved getting two buses instead of one. This one was far more convenient. Well good morning Mr Wilkes, I will be next door if you need me.”

Bruce popped out for a bowel movement at the same time he did every morning. By the time he got back Sebastian Honours – a junior partner and serial womaniser – was waiting for him. Bruce didn’t get on very well with Sebastian as Julia had told him not to. It was strange as they both used to be very good friends before the Smith-Jones’ New Year’s Eve party of 2007. Before that Julia had often popped into Sebastian’s office to have a chat and even gave him corporate legal advice until the early hours of the morning. But apparently they had a big argument about Sebastian’s legal affairs and Julia had told Bruce he was to be very rude to him from now on. Bruce was often very rude and had never offered him a second biscuit.

“Ah Brucey, how are you doing? You’re looking buff, been at the weights have you?” Bruce smiled at the flattery, he hadn’t been at the weights but he was glad he was looking buff today whatever that meant. He sat down behind his desk and offered Sebastian a biscuit; only one mind.

“Look Bruce, we’ve been looking at some figures and it seems that the company is going through a bit of a dry spell. As you’re such a loyal employee we thought you wouldn’t mind taking voluntary redundancy, you know, to help the company out. What do you say Bruce?”

The company was Bruce’s life so of course he would do anything for them. He was about to agree unconditionally when he felt a tug on his trouser leg. He looked down and to his surprise he saw Ms Peters sitting under his desk drinking a mug of coffee. Sebastian was so busy talking him into redundancy he didn’t notice the following conversation Bruce was having with his crotch.

“Ms Peters, sorry to bother you on your coffee break, but can I ask what you are doing under my desk?”

“It seemed a good place to drink coffee. If I was drinking tea I would much prefer the windowsill. You shouldn’t take redundancy you know. Where would you do your Sudoku puzzle?” Ms Peters asked, dipping a digestive into her coffee.

Bruce thought about this. Where would he complete his Sudoku puzzle? He had tried to do it in a number of places, but his office desk was the only one that felt right.

“Sorry Sebastian, I can’t take redundancy,” Bruce piped up, stopping Sebastian in mid sentence.

“I beg your pardon? Did you not hear me? The company is in trouble, unless we get a significant amount of new clients in the next few weeks the company will go under!”

Ms Peters popped her head up from in between Bruce’s legs.

“Mr Wilkes will get a significant amount of new clients then. Really, I am surprised the senior partners didn’t think of this.”

“Well well…” Sebastian smiled as he looked at the young woman’s face situated between boring Bruce’s legs, “I suppose before now we didn’t think you would be up to the challenge. But I see you are a dark horse old Brucey! I’ll leave you to finish off your…meeting.” He turned to go adding, “We should go out for drinks at some point Brucey, give me a call.”

Bruce was very surprised. Sebastian had never invited him out without Julia before. He was rather pleased, but then he remembered the task at hand. The prospect of trying to obtain a ‘significant’ amount of new clients made him quite uneasy. He had only managed to achieve a ‘satisfactory’ or at best a ‘reasonable’ amount of clients in the past. ‘Significant’ seemed something only someone like Julia could achieve.

“Ms Peters, I appreciate your support, but I fear I won’t be able to find many clients in such a short amount of time.” He explained to her that people don’t often like to make a will until they are much older. When they are older, the idea of phoning someone in a suit is often far too unnerving.

“If I help you get a ‘significant’ amount of new clients, will you give my brother a job as a handyman here? You see, he is getting rather tired of the number 12 bus.”

Bruce readily agreed. After all, they could do with someone to fix the wobbly chair in reception and he was please he wouldn’t have to try and obtain ‘significant’ all by himself.

Over the next few days, Bruce saw very little of Ms Peters. She was often out on business meetings and making new contacts. However, he saw a great deal of her brother Mr Peters who was not the type of handyman Bruce was expecting. He could do lots of different jobs around the place, but none of which involved a hammer and nails. Today he was a characterture artist and had set up his studio in the staffroom; much to the delight of the other employees. Bruce went down to have his portrait done and could not help satisfying his curiosity.

“What is the rest of your family like Mr Peters, do you have any more siblings?”

“Oh yes, I have fifteen and a half brothers.”

“Oh a half brother you mean?”

“No no, half a brother. He’s the youngest. Mother didn’t have the energy left for a whole one. Now turn your head to the right Mr Wilkes if you please.”

Since the meeting with Sebastian, the men in the company were treating him very differently with offers of nights out that were accompanied by unexplained winks and nudges. However the women were being rather unpleasant and muttering things like “sexist pig” and “sexual harasser” whenever he walked past. But Bruce understood that women sometimes acted irrationally, something to do with the moon apparently.

By the end of the week, Bruce found Ms Peters under his desk again. She invited him to join her, and not wanting to seem rude he took his coffee and sat with her cross-legged under the table.

“I believe I have found you a ‘significant’ number of clients Mr Wilkes. I have made appointments for them from tomorrow, some of which need special measures taken so they can attend. But don’t worry, my brother and I will organise it.”

Bruce ensured he was wearing his best suit for the appointments that were to last for the next two days. His first client, a Mrs Davis, was a thirty-two year old widow with no children. He walked into his office still reading her file and bumped into his executive chair. He looked around and thought for a moment he had come into the wrong office as all his furniture had been moved to face the other way round. Ms Peters and her brother were just plugging his computer back in.

“Ms Peters, I hate to sound ungrateful, but may I enquire to why you have changed the room around?”

“Quite simple Mr Wilkes, Mrs Davis likes to face the door of any room and not have her back to it.”

“I see.”

Over the course of the two days, Bruce conducted appointments in an ever changing office. He sat on only blue furniture, plastic furniture or no furniture at all. One client insisted Bruce spoke through a surgical mask and one even wanted him standing on his head. All the clients made wills and were very happy with the service they got. Word seemed to get out and Ms Peters was constantly receiving requests for appointments which kept them both very busy. They were even busy at night, with several clients who liked to meet under a full moon.

Bruce was pleased he was helping the company get back on its feet. Ms Peters was pleased she had someone to drink coffee under the desk with. Mr Peters was pleased he was allowed to deep sea dive in the shower room on a Thursday morning. Even the women employees were pleased when they found out from Ms Peters that Bruce spent his summers fighting forest fires in Poland; which I am sure he would have done if Poland had a problem with forest fires. The only person who was not pleased was Julia.

“Bruce, I have left messages with your secretary all week. Where have you been?” Julia spat down the telephone.

“I do apologise. I have been terribly busy.”

“Busy with her I suppose. I know all about the goings on in your office with that Ms Peters. I find it disgusting.”

Bruce looked around his office which in preparation for a client, had nothing in it beginning with the letter ‘C’. He thought the word ‘disgusting’ was rather a poor choice of words.

“I disagree Julia, it has been a most invigorating time – a real eye opener. I must say, the business before was rather dull wouldn’t you say?”

At that Julia slammed the phone down. Dull? Her? She would show him how eye opening a corporate lawyer could be!

Bruce had been called in for a meeting with the senior partners. It was all very exciting as the senior partners rarely met with the solicitors who worked for them. Mr Peters was a bootblack today and made sure Bruce’s shoes were as shiny as they could be. He took the lift to the legendary 2nd floor and walked down the oak panelled corridor to the conference room. He knocked on the door three times- a number he always thought was an appropriate amount of knocks- and entered the room. Three stern looking gentlemen with identical pinstriped suits were sitting at the end of a cold glass table. Each had a bottle of expensive looking mineral water sitting unopened in front of them.

“Sit down Wilkes,” ordered one suit with a bald head.

Bruce obediently sat down on a stool that was so low he could barely see over the table.

The thin suit with red hair had started to look through some papers, he peered at Bruce over his small rimless spectacles.

“We see by our records that you have taken on a total of eighteen new clients in the last week. A number which I must say is very impressive. However, it is the type of client you are encouraging which concerns us. We have been hearing some worrying reports about the….eccentricities of the new clients and some of your staff for that matter,” he stated, removing the rimless spectacles and cleaning them.

“What we are saying is that Robinson, Milton & Russell has a reputation to uphold,” explained the suit that was red-faced and rather overweight.

“We can’t have nut-jobs being associated with our firm do you hear! We will be the laughing stock of the whole law community!” growled the bald suit.

“So, in short, we would like you to both close the accounts of the new clients and dismiss the staff in question or you will be forced to take voluntary redundancy,” the fat suit said sternly, his face getting redder by the minute.

“But, won’t it seem terribly rude?” Bruce asked.

“Rude? RUDE? They’re nut-jobs, freaks, insane – they have no concept of rudeness, you imbecile! Now get rid of them, or get out!” the bald suit shouted, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

Later, under the desk, Bruce explained the situation to Mr and Ms Peters. They were very understanding and declared they would leave without a fuss. Although Mr Peters enquired whether he would still be able to dive Thursday mornings. Bruce answered he thought probably not. All three of them then set about returning his office to its original state then said their goodbyes.

That afternoon, Bruce looked around his very dull office trying to write to the new clients. He was usually very good at letters, but this one felt very wrong to write. He hadn’t felt more fulfilled and happier then he had in the last few days. He would miss that feeling. He thought about the three suits sitting in the second floor conference room drinking their plain mineral water. He had often dreamed that one day he would become a junior partner like Sebastian and get to meet the senior partners. But now he had met them the whole experience left him feeling rather empty. He picked up his Sudoku puzzle and noticed Ms and Mr Peter’s resignation letters sitting in their thin white envelopes and he sighed. He suppose his life would now return to normal again and he had better ring Julia. He was just about to reach for the phone when he stopped. Ever so slowly his brain started to form an idea of its own. It took a while being so out of practise. But when it fully formed he was surprised how good it was. So good, he wanted it to start right away. So he got Mrs Cummings to cancel any appointments and headed out of the office – straight to the number 12 bus.

The phones did not stop ringing in the brand new office of Wilkes & Peters Incorporated. Ms Peters was having a coffee under her brand new oak finished desk and Mr Peters was busking outside the gents loos. Bruce was just retuning the wheelable furniture back to its original state, when a news headline next to the Sudoku he was about to start caught his attention:

Local Lawyer Bares All

Local hard hitting corporate lawyer Julia Wilkes was arrested today for indecent exposure at struggling law firm Robinson, Milton & Russell. A secretary Mrs Cummings, 55, was shocked and appalled when she entered a vacated office to see Ms Wilkes lying completely naked on the desk “doing something indecent with a hole punch”.

He thought about giving his ex-wife a call when he read this, but thought better of it. His firm wasn’t yet equipped to deal with a case like this – but maybe with some decent blinds and a comfortable desk Julia would become an excellent client.