Summer With My Sister Read Online Free PDF

stared at him, taken aback. Of all the self-centred things to ask. ‘Well, I don’t know. I’m afraid I hadn’t thought about you,’ she said, sarcasm biting into her words. ‘I dare say they’ll find something for you to do.’
    He wasn’t listening, though. His face was still and pensive, as if he were tuning into some telepathic thought-wave beamed to him from elsewhere in the building. Then his expression cleared. He smiled. ‘Ah, okay, I get it. Marcus was dropping hints the other day about me and him being a good team. Said something about a new position opening up for him. I bet he’ll be moving up the ladder, with you going.’
    Polly stiffened. ‘Marcus Handbury?’
    ‘Yeah. He’s been acting mysterious for a few days. Reckon Warrington must have lined him up to take over your work once you’ve gone.’
    ‘But he can’t just have my job if I’ve been made redundant!’ she cried. ‘It’s not meant to work like that.’
    He shrugged. ‘Well, they’ll call the position something different then, won’t they? That’s what they usually do.’
    His tactlessness made Polly reel. ‘Jake . . . I’ve lost my job ,’ she said tartly. ‘You could at least show some sympathy.’
    His face hardened. ‘Sympathy?’ he echoed. ‘ Sympathy ? You’re joking, aren’t you?’ His lip curled. ‘This is the best news I’ve had all year.’
    She took a step back, bewildered. She never usually felt bewildered. It was an unfamiliar and distinctly unsettling experience. Why was Jake being so rude? ‘I . . . I . . .’ she croaked, eyes bulging. ‘I don’t understand.’
    He gave her a tight, flinty smile. ‘I have bust a gut for you over the last few years,’ he said, his voice loaded with contempt. ‘I’ve not just been your PA, I’ve been your shit-shoveller too, doing all your dirty work: your dry-fucking-cleaning, your bloody bill-paying, buying presents for your sodding niece and nephew and Uncle-Tom-fucking-Cobley . . .’ He shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘It’s not been the most fun job, you know, but I’ve done it without complaining. I’ve done it even though these things have not been in my remit. And yet you’ve never said please. You’ve never said thank you. You’ve never even asked anything about me, about how I’m doing. You’re like a fucking replicant. So no, I’m not sorry you’re leaving. Good-fucking-riddance, that’s what I say.’
    He stormed out, leaving Polly staring after him. She swallowed hard. ‘Th-th-thanks for the coffee,’ she stammered, but the words fell uselessly into the silence of the room.

    Thirty minutes later Polly had finished packing. It hadn’t taken as long as she’d anticipated. It turned out she had surprisingly little that belonged to her. A few mugs. A spare pair of tights. A half-eaten bag of Haribos. Gum. A packet of paracetamol. Clothes. Certificates. A couple of personal cards sent by satisfied clients. That was the sum total of her twelve years in the place. The collection of items had barely filled the box, after all.
    Once she’d collected everything together, she gazed around at the filing cabinets full of documents she’d lovingly written, reports she’d painstakingly compiled, letters she’d dictated, contracts she’d signed . . . All for nothing, now. Those files and folders would be inherited by Marcus-effing-Handbury within hours, by the sound of it.
    She was gripped by a surge of vengeful feeling. How easy it would be to steal a wedge of sensitive documents, she thought, a memory stick with the juiciest negotiations, a folder of incriminating emails, passwords to different accounts . . . She could do it. She could stitch up Waterman’s good and proper, and why the hell not, after the appalling way they’d treated her?
    Then she drooped, remembering the security guard’s warning about how he was going to check her belongings on the way out. That was why.
    Still, a memory stick was small enough to conceal