Friendship Matters

 My name is Ria. I'm British Asian with Mauritian roots, the founder and CEO of HR Matters. People tell me I have everything, brains, beauty, love and wealth. But what people don't see is the hard work and sacrifice that's cost me the best years of my life.

I open the door to my office, and there’s a huge vase of vibrant, sweet-smelling flowers sitting on my desk. “What the?” My first thought is Don, and my heart swells.  

“Hope you don’t mind.” I turn around and see Zoe, my new PA, standing behind me in the corridor, wearing the same trouser suit she interviewed in. She hands me a cup of coffee. “Black Americano like you had at my interview.” Her thin lips smile. “Jenny let me in to place the flowers.” 

“Oh, OK.” 

“Do you recognise this?" Zoe steps into my office and touches a delicate bell-shaped red flower. 

“That’s lovely, but should I?” 

Zoe’s face sinks into a frown. “I hoped you would.” 

I bend at the knees to inspect the delicate but riotous red bell. “It’s so beautiful.” I inhale the scent, and it takes me back. “Mauritian?” 

“Trochetia, your national flower from back home. It wasn’t easy to buy, but I wanted to get you something special, a sign of my gratitude for giving me a chance.” 

“Well. That's very thoughtful.” I touch Zoe’s elbow. “Thank you.” I sip my coffee and drop my laptop bag onto my desk. “So, Jenny told me you’ve completed the induction.”  

“Yes..” 

“Good. I will try to be office-based. It will help us gel,”  

“Sounds good.” 

“The end goal is to know what I want. My office needs to run like clockwork, allowing me to concentrate on critical matters rather than the mundane. Got it?”  

“Yes.” 

“I expect never to have to repeat myself. That’s husband privileges only.” I place the coffee cup on my desk and unzip my laptop bag. “Don’t be scared, though. I am giving you a month's pass to ask whatever you want, but I need you to learn quickly, OK?"  

“I was always the class swot. I absorb information first time around and leave stupid at the door.” 

“Has Jenny locked herself out again?.” 

“Excuse me?” 

I wince. “Humour isn’t my thing.” 

“You told me that at my interview.” 

“Wow, impressive. You really do absorb information first time around.” 

The rain falls in waves from a grey sky. It’s heavy and reminds me of the cyclones back in Mauritius. Standing under the canopy, I turn to Zoe. “It's supposed to be summer, right?” 

“Climate change. Just rains all year round now.” Zoe pulls a small umbrella from her handbag and steps into the rain. “Get under, and I’ll walk you to your car.” 

“I’m walking to the train station.” 

“You don't drive?” Zoe steps back under the canopy.  

“Fitness.” 

“What? You’re already slim.” 

“I'm trying to get my swimmer's body back.” 

Zoe shrugs her slender shoulders. “If the rain doesn’t stop, you can swim all the way home.” She giggles and opens her umbrella. "Come on, let me give you a lift home, Boss. I live in Wigan, too.” 

“Don’t worry, I'll get an Uber to the station.” 

“Come. I insist.” 

“Oh, go on then. Thank you.” We screech and run through the cold rain toward her little Fiat.  

Zoe dives straight into the cabin and clears the passenger seat of clothes. “Sorry.” She tosses them into the back of the car, which is a mosaic of snack packets and plastic bottles. “Sorry.” 

“I won’t judge.” I climb into the seat and give Zoe my postcode, and she taps it into her navigation system. “Thanks for this, Zoe.”  

“Looks like you only live down the road from me.” 

“Oh. Good.” 

"I now know where to knock for a cup of sugar or share a bottle of red." 

I snort a laugh but don’t answer. It’s my belief that colleagues don’t make good friends.  

The East Lancs is always snarled at rush hour, but at least today I am a passenger and have Zoe to talk to. “Do you still practise Hinduism, Zoe?” 

“It’s a mindset rather than a practice, isn’t it? Have you ever been to the Temple in Manchester? It’s beautiful.”

"Once, with my husband. It's amazing. Always said I'd go again, but I haven't. Being busy shouldn’t be an excuse, really.” 

"I try to get there at least once a month for Kirtan. And before you ask, it’s not just because of the tasty prasad they dish out afterwards.” 

I laugh and slap my knee. “I was the same as a kid. I love the sweets. Ladoo, burfi. Yum!” 

“Halwa. Jalebi.” 

“Rasmalai” 

“Fuck, Rasmalai. My absolute fave.”  

I rest back in the seat and look at Zoe with a grin. “Bet you don’t get Rasmalai in the temple, though.” 

“Usually have to go Curry Mile for good Rasmalai.”   

“Curry Mile, that’s another of our favourite places." The traffic begins to move, and Zoe shifts the gearstick from second to third. “You became Hindu because of your adoptive family, right?” 

“They didn’t force anything on me. Just felt right.” 

"You know." I clasp my hands together and squeeze my fingers. “My husband and I are thinking of adoption.” 

“Wow. You should.”

"You think?"

"Yes." Zoe weaves the car from lane to lane. “It wasn’t all good. Went through a few bad foster homes before I landed a good one.” 

“Poor you.” 

Zoe hits her horn as a car in front stops abruptly, forcing her to change lanes again. “God knows what my real parents are like.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Don’t care.” 

“Never intrigued?” 

“Hell, the fuck no.” Zoe glances at me, her eyes wide and her mouth open. “Why would I be? They gave me nothing but loneliness. I spent my childhood feeling unworthy of love and affection. I trusted no one. You know how lonely it is without trust?”  

“I...” I close my eyes. The truth is, I struggle to trust my husband, so know exactly how lonely and isolating It can feel without trust. “I'm sorry..” 

“It’s OK.” 

“No. I am. I shouldn't pry.” I cross my arms and gaze down to my lap. “It was wrong of me.” 

“You weren’t to know.” Zoe goes quiet and searches for a radio station, landing on Asian Network.

“Gosh, Don used to play Asian Network to make me feel at home.” 

“Sounds a nice guy.” 

“He’s not that bad.” I snigger, “Sometimes.” 

“Please, consider adoption. It really does change lives.” Zoe strokes her chin with the back of her hand. “I was horrible to my adoptive parents. You know, I was damaged goods, like. But they stood by me, loved me. And look at me now. I owe them everything.”  

“That’s lovely to hear.” 

“They're my true family. I am forever grateful. to them.” 

I stroke Zoe''s upper arm. “I’m sure you’ve done them proud.”  

“I’ve just shocked myself."

"Why?"

"I have never shared that with anyone before.” 

“Thank you for being brave.” I reach out and rest a hand on Zoe's shoulder, feeling her muscles relax. “You'll thrive at HR Matters." 

“Thank you. I hope so.” Zoe reaches her right arm across her chest and rests her hand on mine. “Adoption is important to me. And I guess given what you and your husband are considering, I felt it important to share this part of me with you.”  

“I’m glad you did.”  

We drive over the humpback bridge into my village. We slow to a stop, letting rain-soaked commuters cross from the railway station. Zoe looks across the road at The Railway Hotel. “Look.” Zoe points to the fluttering banner tied to the railings of the beer garden. “It’s quiz night at The Rail.” 

"Fancy it?" 

"T-Tonight?"

My words suddenly sound very desperate. “Don is on a book tour, meaning I'm going back to an empty house."

 "I suppose it's good to be spontaneous."

"We can have a drink and pretend to be young.”

“Let’s do it.”

If it weren’t for my seatbelt, I'd give her a hug. “You can stop at mine for the night and collect your car in the morning."

Zoe runs up the steps at the front of The Railway Hotel. She opens the heavy main door and waves me in. Inside, I find a patriarch of beer bellies, skinheads, and bad tattoos. A potent concoction of bleach and stale ale hangs in the air. As I walk towards the bar, the raucous laughter and clatter of pint glasses bounce off walls filled with black-and-white photographs of steam trains.   

 I couldn’t be further out of my comfort zone, yet I’m not a woman who walks away. Zoe is suddenly less confident and lingers by the door, so I gesture to follow, and like a pet dog, she comes to heel. 

An elderly man is setting up a pair of speakers, and beside him is a table with a stack of papers and an unplugged microphone. 

Zoe glances around the bustling interior. "It's... rather busy.” 

“Nothing wrong with competition.” I rest a hand on Zoe’s back, and we walk towards the bar. “Just means more arse to kick. Think of a team name.”  

“Team HR.” 

“Team HR it is." We bump fists as we reach the bar that’s being staffed by two young women with bleach blond hair and matching black t-shirts with The Railway Hotel emblazoned on their chest. “What are you drinking, Zoe?” 

“G&T, please.” 

I let out a sigh. Seeing as Don and I have been unsuccessful again, I order the same. 

My heels clip the floor tiles until I reach the carpeted lounge where Zoe is waiting at a small table. "So, what do you think of HR Matters so far?"

"I was thinking about this before. You know, it's the first place I've worked where everyone seems happy."

"I’m so proud, HR Matters is my baby."

 I must look wistful or something because Zoe reaches across the table, rests her hand on mine, and smiles reassuringly. “It won't always be an only child." 

I pull away. “It's in God's hands.” I take a large swig from my G&T and wince as I swallow the bitter taste. “Don's more interested in his writing and his young, glamorous PR manager"  

"And that, Ria, is why I'm staying single." 

"You do that." I look at my glass. "How strong is this?"

"I think I started the oversharing in the car, didn't I?"

"I know. But I'm your boss."

Zoe meets my eyes; her smile has a hint of mischief. "And I'm your PA—who knows how to keep secrets."  

“I know I hired you for a reason.”

A frail old man with a moustache steps up to our table. With his woollen jumper, slacks, and hearing aid, he couldn’t be more like a granddad. “Do you two lovely ladies want to enter tonight's quiz?” 

"Yes, please.” 

“Wow. New blood." The elderly man rests a hand above his heart. “You know how to make an old man smile." He hands over a couple of sheets of paper and a pen. “Three pounds each, please.” 

I suddenly realise I have no cash, but Zoe saves me and hands over the money. The quiz master’s face suddenly looks less weathered as he grins. “Good luck, ladies.” He stops and raises a knobbly finger to his purple lips. “I tell you what? As we have two special guests, I will consider including a section just for you.” 

The quiz is hard. Sport is a disaster. History isn’t great. Zoe writes down a few answers for TV & Culture. The only thing we’re smashing is G&T.  

But our luck begins to change. Everyone groans when he mentions mathematics, but we write an answer for every question.  

And then it comes.  

WE NOW HAVE A QUICK-FIRE BONUS ROUND. 

“NAME THE INDIAN ACTRESS WHO IN 2017, STARRED OPPOSITE VIN DIESEL IN THE HOLLYWOOD BLOCKBUSTER, XXX THE RETURN OF XANDER CAGE.”

My moment has arrived. "Ooh, Ooh, I know this one." I stand with my arms out wide, about to announce the answer and my arrival. “It’s...” Zoe tugs at my sleeve and shakes her head. But I go for it anyway. "It's me.” 

Everyone turns to look in my direction. The room is silent, and I suddenly want to run home. Finally, a man shouts, “Tell us your name then, cause we ain’t got a fucking clue, ‘ere.”  

Realising I’m drunker than I thought, I sit back down. I whisper to Zoe, “Deepika Padukone."

"I see a resemblance." 

NEXT QUESTION: IN WHICH COUNTRY WAS THE CHICKEN TIKKA MASALA INVENTED? The old man winks towards us. 

Zoe leans into me and whispers, "I'm starting to think he's taking the piss.”   

“Don't worry, all is fair in love and war."  

NAME THE CAPTIAL OF INDIA.  

“No, you’re right. He’s taking the piss.” 

I empty my glass and place it in front of me. “I can’t believe we came third? Third. I never come second, never mind bloody third.” 

“It's the taking part that counts.”   

"That's what mothers say to underachieving children.” 

Zoe stands up and offers her hand. “Come on Deepika Panettone.” 

“Padukone.” I take Zoe's hand, and she pulls me up. I’m uneasy on my feet and need to stand still for a moment. “Panettone is an Italian dessert." 

“But you’re just as sweet.” 

“And you’re my little Haribo." I lean into Zoe as we walk towards the exit. “I reckon the quiz was fixed.”  

As I open the double doors and step outside, the fresh air slaps my cheeks, sending my head into a spin. “I think I’m drunk.”  

“I'm just tipsy, me.” 

"In that case, I'm handing the controls over to you. Take me home, Co-piolet." 

“I’ll book a taxi.” 

I take a few uncertain steps into the darkness and look down at the damp, shadowy street. The white light from the streetlamps pools on the wet tarmac. It’s silent until the rumble of a slow-moving freight train causes a lonely dog to howl into the night. After making my calculations, I confidently announce. “Cancel the taxi."

"Why?"

"My house is down that hill, gravity alone will get us to the door.” 

"I don't know why you say humour isn't your thing."

I look up the street towards the closed shop. “Don’s right.” 

“About what?” 

“The village needs a kebab house.”  

Zoe looks up from her smartphone, which paints her pale face blueish grey. “Yuk, I hate kebabs,” 

“Zoe.” I ball my fist and shake it. “Sometimes a woman needs a bit of meat.” 

“I’m happy with fruit and veg. Thank you.” 

The pub's front door opens, and a group of young men spill out into the chill of the night. A tall, lanky man with pale, pasty skin points towards me. “Hey, it's the Bollywood babe and her little mate.” His friends look at him as he asks me. "Want to join us? Gettin’ the last train to town.” 

“Am, flattered, but we’re OK.” 

“We were actually talkin’ about going The Raj for a curry.” 

“I don’t think my husband would be happy.” I raise my left hand to show my wedding ring before pointing to Zoe. "And she's vegetarian..”  

We watch the men cross the road and continue down the cobbled slipway. I turn to Zoe. “Come back to mine, Zo.”  

“Thanks, but I’ve ordered myself a taxi home.” 

“Please?” I suddenly feel sober. “I... I hate being in an empty house.” 

 Zoe faces me and gently combs her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes, feel myself tilting my head towards each stroke, and tremble as she whispers into my ear. “You'd be purring if you were a cat." 

I realise how much I miss being touched and open my eyes to gaze into Zoe’s. I move closer until her breath warms my lips. But headlamps brighten the world around us, and I suddenly feel exposed. Zoe takes my hand in hers. “Come with me, I'll get the taxi to drop you off on the way to mine.”   

“I live two streets away.” 

“Doesn't matter. Come. You’ve had too many, and I don’t want you ending up at The Raj.” Zoe opens the back door of the taxi. “I’ll collect my car in the morning, and we can drive somewhere for breakfast.” 

The taxi pulls away, leaving me outside my house. A disembodied voice cuts through the darkness and stops me dead. "Look who it is!" 

I swallow my fear and stare into the darkness. "Who’s there?” There’s no one around, and my legs can’t move quickly enough as I hurry down the driveway towards my front door. 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” 

“Oh God.” I shake uncontrollably as I try to find the key in my handbag.  

“Are you... drunk?” 

“Leave me alone.” Finally, I find my key and slip it into the lock. 

“Ria, you melon. It’s Don, I can see you on the Ring Doorbell camera.” 

“Fuck sake, Don." In relief, I lean against the door but press the handle down, almost falling through as the door opens. "You scared me.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Thought you were Jack the Ripper or something.” 

Don laughs through the speaker. “I wanted to wait up until you got back safe.” 

“That’s touching. Thank you.” I can’t stop smiling as I step into the warmth of the house. “I’ll call you in bed.”  

In bed I go to call Don but see a message from Zoe thanking me for a great night. I type back, "The unexpected nights are the best, Zoe. I had a blast..” I feel my cheeks raise a smile. 

I take a sip of water from my glass and reflect.

Oversharing with an employee is not professional. Cringing, I think about our 'moment' outside the pub and feel conflicted. Yet, I can't deny I feel grateful for Zoe. In fact, I'm excited about the possibilities of our friendship.