Читать книгу Vulgar Things - Lee Rourke - Страница 10

I knock on the door to Meeting Room 4 as requested. Jane is sitting at the table. She doesn’t smile. I sit opposite her.

‘Jon, there’ve been some serious complaints made by editors … about your productivity and capability … The editors of IBD, for example, they didn’t see the final set of proofs before issue 5 went to press … and …’

‘It’s okay, I know.’

‘We just don’t think it’s working, Jon.’

‘Really.’

‘Jessica thinks you’re unsuitable for this role, she’s been keeping me posted for the past few weeks … She feels …’

‘Jane, I’m not interested in how Jessica feels … Just give me the letter.’

I walk out of the office without clearing my desk. At the door I look back – everything looks just as it should: people are at their desks, oblivious, heads down correcting proofs, or up staring at their monitors, working. Only one thing looks out of place: Jessica’s empty desk. She hasn’t even bothered waiting until I’ve left the building before scurrying over to her pal in Meeting Room 4. I exhale and walk out of the door.