Suddenly I remember Kerry and her 'I am a successful woman' walk. I know Kerry's an obnoxious cow, but she does have her own travel agency and make zillions of pounds a year. She must be doing something right. Maybe I should give it a go. Cautiously I stick out my bust, lift my head and start striding across the office with a fixed, alert expression on my face.

'Have you got period pain or something?' says Paul crudely as I reach his door.

'No!' I say in shock.

'Well you look very odd. Now sit down.' He shuts the door, sits down at his desk and opens a form marked Staff Appraisal Review. 'I'm sorry I couldn't see you yesterday. But what with Jack Harper's arrival, everything got b.u.g.g.e.red up.'

'That's OK.'

I try to smile but my mouth is suddenly dry. I can't believe how nervous I feel. This is worse than a school report.

'OK. So ... Emma Corrigan.' He looks at the form and starts ticking boxes. 'Generally, you're doing fine. You're not generally late ... you understand the tasks given to you ... you're fairly efficient ... you work OK with your colleagues ... blah blah ... blah ... Any problems?' he says, looking up.

'Er ... no.'

'Do you feel racially hara.s.sed?'

'Er ... no.'

'Good.' He ticks another box. 'Well I think that's it. Well done. Can you send Nick in to see me?'

What? Has he forgotten?

'Um, what about my promotion?' I say, trying not to sound too anxious.

'Promotion?' He stares at me. 'What promotion?'

'To Marketing Executive.'

'What the f.u.c.k are you talking about?'

'It said. It said in the ad for my job ...' I pull the crumpled ad out of my jeans pocket, where it's been since yesterday. '"Possible promotion after a year." It says it right there.' I push it across the desk, and he looks at it with a frown.

'Emma, that was only for exceptional candidates. You're not ready for a promotion. You'll have to prove yourself first.'

'But I'm doing everything as well as I can! If you just give me a chance-'

'You had the chance at Glen Oil.' Paul raises his eyebrows at me and I feel a twinge of humiliation. 'Emma, bottom line is, you're not ready for a higher position. In a year we'll see.'

'A year?'

'OK? Now hop it.'

My mind is whirling. I have to accept this in a calm, dignified way. I have to say something like 'I respect your decision, Paul', shake his hand and leave the room. This is what I have to do.

The only trouble is, I can't seem to get up out of my chair.

After a few moments Paul looks puzzledly at me. 'That's it, Emma.'

I can't move. Once I leave this room, it's over. '

'Emma?'

'Please promote me,' I say desperately. 'Please. I have to get a promotion to impress my family. It's the only thing I want in the whole world, and I'll work so hard, I promise, I'll come in at weekends, and I'll ... I'll wear smart suits ...'

'What?' Paul is staring at me as though I've turned into a goldfish.

'You don't have to pay me any more salary! I'll do all the same jobs as before. I'll even pay to have my new business cards printed! I mean, it won't make any difference to you. You won't even know I've been promoted!'

I break off, breathing hard.

'I think you'll find that's not quite the point of promotion, Emma,' says Paul sarcastically. 'I'm afraid the answer's no. Even more so.'

'But-'

'Emma, a word of advice. If you want to get ahead, you have to create your own chances. You have to carve out your own opportunities. Now seriously. Could you please f.u.c.k off out of my office and get Nick for me?'

As I leave I can see him raising his eyes to heaven and scribbling something else on my form.

Great. He's probably writing 'Deranged lunatic, seek medical help'.

As I walk dejectedly back to my desk, Artemis looks up with a beady expression. 'Oh, Emma,' she says, 'your cousin Kerry just called for you.'

'Really?' I say in surprise. Kerry never phones me at work. In fact she never phones me at all. 'Did she leave a message?'

'Yes, she did. She wanted to know, have you heard about your promotion yet?'

OK. This is now official. I hate Kerry.

'Oh right,' I say, trying to sound as though this is some boring, everyday enquiry. 'Thanks.'

'Are you being promoted, Emma? I didn't know that!' Her voice is high and piercing, and I see a couple of people raise their heads in interest. 'So, are you going to become a marketing executive?'

'No,' I mutter, my face hot with humiliation. 'I'm not.'

'Oh!' Artemis pulls a mock-confused face. 'So why did she-'

'Shut up, Artemis,' says Caroline. I give her a grateful look and slump into my chair.

Another whole year. Another whole year of being the c.r.a.ppy marketing a.s.sistant, and everyone thinking I'm useless. Another year of being in debt to Dad, and Kerry and Nev laughing at me, and feeling like a complete failure. I switch on my computer and dispiritedly type a couple of words. But suddenly all my energy's gone.

'I think I'll get a coffee,' I say. 'Does anyone want one?'

'You can't get a coffee,' says Artemis, giving me an odd look. 'Haven't you seen?'

'What?'

'They've taken the coffee machine away,' says Nick. 'While you were in with Paul.'

'Taken it away?' I look at him, puzzled. 'But why?'

'Dunno,' he says, walking off towards Paul's office. 'They just came and carted it away.'

'We're getting a new machine!' says Caroline, walking past with a bundle of proofs. 'That's what they were saying downstairs. A really nice one, with proper coffee. Ordered by Jack Harper, apparently.'

She moves off, and I stare after her.

Jack Harper ordered a new coffee machine?

'Emma!' Artemis is saying impatiently. 'Did you hear that? I want you to find the leaflet we did for the Tesco promotion two years ago. Sorry, Mummy,' she says into the phone. 'Just telling my a.s.sistant something.'

Her a.s.sistant. G.o.d, it p.i.s.ses me off when she says that.

But to be honest, I'm feeling a bit too dazed to get annoyed.

It's nothing to do with me, I tell myself firmly as I root around at the bottom of the filing cabinet. It's ridiculous to think I had anything to do with it. He was probably planning to order new coffee anyway. He was probably- I stand up with a pile of files in my arms and nearly drop them all on the floor.

There he is.

Standing right in front of me.

'h.e.l.lo again.' His eyes crinkle in a smile. 'How are you doing?'

'Er ... good, thanks.' I swallow hard. 'I just heard about the coffee machine. Um ... thanks.'

'No problem.'

'Now everyone!' Paul comes striding up behind him. 'Mr Harper is going to be sitting in on the department this morning.'

'Please.' Jack Harper smiles. 'Call me Jack.'

'Right you are. Jack is going to be sitting in this morning. He's going to observe what you do, find out how we operate as a team. Just behave normally, don't do anything special.' Paul's eyes alight on me and he gives me an ingratiating smile. 'Hi there, Emma! How are you doing? Everything OK?'

'Er, yes thanks, Paul,' I mutter. 'Everything's great.'

'Good! A happy staff, that's what we like. And, while I've got your attention,' he coughs a little selfconsciously, 'let me just remind you that our Corporate Family Day is coming up, a week on Sat.u.r.day. A chance for us all to let our hair down, enjoy meeting each other's families, and have some fun!'

We all stare at him a bit blankly. Until this moment, Paul has always referred to this as the Corporate f.u.c.kwit Day and said he'd rather have his b.a.l.l.s torn off than bring any member of his family to it.

'Anyway, back to work, everyone! Jack, let me get you a chair.'

'Just ignore me,' says Jack Harper pleasantly, as he sits down in the corner. 'Behave normally.'

Behave normally. Right. Of course.

So that would be sit down, take my shoes off, check my emails, put some hand cream on, eat a few Smarties, read my horoscope on iVillage, read Connor's horoscope, write 'Emma Corrigan, Managing Director' several times in swirly letters on my notepad, add a border of flowers, send an email to Connor, wait a few minutes to see if he replies, take a swig of mineral water and then finally get round to finding the Tesco leaflet for Artemis.

I don't think so.

As I sit back down at my desk, my mind is working quickly. Create your own chances. Carve out your own opportunities. That's what Paul said.

And what is this if not an opportunity?

Jack Harper himself is sitting here, watching me work. The great Jack Harper. Boss of the entire corporation. Surely I can impress him somehow?

OK, perhaps I haven't got off to the most brilliant start with him. But maybe this is my chance to redeem myself! If I can just somehow show that I'm really bright and motivated ...

As I sit, leafing through the file of promotional literature, I'm aware that I'm holding my head slightly higher than usual, as though I'm in a posture cla.s.s. And as I glance around the office, everyone else seems to be in a posture cla.s.s, too. Before Jack Harper arrived, Artemis was on the phone to her mum, but now she's put on her horn-rimmed gla.s.ses and is typing briskly, occasionally pausing to smile at what she's written in a 'what a genius I am' way. Nick was reading the sports section of the Telegraph, but now I can see him studying some doc.u.ments with graphs in them, with a deep frown.

'Emma?' says Artemis in a falsely sweet voice. 'Have you found that leaflet I was asking you for? Not that there's any hurry-'

'Yes, I have!' I say. I push back my chair, stand up, and walk over to her desk. I'm trying to look as natural as possible. But G.o.d, this is like being on telly or something. My legs aren't working properly and my smile is pasted onto my face and I have a horrible conviction I might suddenly shout 'Pants!' or something.

'Here you are, Artemis,' I say, and carefully lay the leaflet on her desk.

'Bless you!' says Artemis. Her eyes meet mine brightly and I realize she's acting, too. She puts her hand on mine, and gives me a twinkly smile. 'I don't know what we'd do without you, Emma!'

'That's quite all right!' I say, matching her tone. 'Any time!'

s.h.i.t, I think as I walk back to my desk. I should have said something cleverer. I should have said, 'Teamwork is what keeps this operation together.'

OK, never mind. I can still impress him.

Trying to act as normally as possible I open a doc.u.ment and start to type as quickly and efficiently as I can, my back ramrod straight. I've never known the office this quiet. Everyone's tapping away, no-one's chatting. It's like being in an exam. My foot's itching, but I don't dare scratch it.

How on earth do people do those fly-on-the-wall doc.u.mentaries? I feel completely exhausted, and it's only been about five minutes.

'It's very quiet in here,' says Jack Harper, sounding puzzled. 'Is it normally this quiet?'

'Er ...' We all look around uncertainly at each other.

'Please, don't mind me. Talk away like you normally would. You must have office discussions.' He gives a friendly smile. 'When I worked in an office, we talked about everything under the sun. Politics, books ... For instance, what have you all been reading recently?'

'Actually, I've been reading the new biography of Mao Tse Tung,' says Artemis at once. 'Fascinating stuff.'

'I'm in the middle of a history of fourteenth-century Europe,' says Nick.

'I'm just re-reading Proust,' says Caroline, with a modest shrug. 'In the original French.'

'Ah.' Jack Harper nods, his face unreadable. 'And ... Emma, is it? What are you reading?'

'Um, actually ...' I swallow, playing for time.

I cannot say Celebrity Doodles What Do They Mean? Even though it is actually very good. Quick. What's a serious book?

'You were reading Great Expectations, weren't you, Emma?' says Artemis. 'For your book club.'

'Yes!' I say in relief. 'Yes, that's right-'