“Dave’s called a meeting in Azure,” said Jenna. All of the meeting rooms at Interwork had been given the names of colours. “God only knows what he wants this time.”
“When is it?” Ashley could have checked her calendar but she was in the middle of wrestling with the word processor to put an image where she wanted it without having all her text mis-laid-out.
“Five minutes,” said Jenna. She tapped her keyboard, locking her computer. “I’m going to grab a coffee. If I have to sit through a half-hour of more Tales from Project Manipulation I need something to keep me awake.”
Ashley finally managed to get the image in the right place with only one bullet-pointed list mangled beyond repair and decided that that was good enough for now. She stood up and checked the time; not long enough to get a coffee, though if went past the kitchen she’d probably catch Jenna coming out. She went by, catching up with Jenna who had just left the kitchen, and they arrived in Azure in enough time to find seats around the conference table.
Dave arrived with the stragglers who had to stand near the back and he took up his favourite place, standing in front of the projector screen. Surprisingly, he didn’t have his laptop with him, which Ashley took to mean that they weren’t going to have to sit through another Powerpoint presentation. He smiled with a smile that looked both practised and forced.
“Thank-you all for coming! Shush now, shush! Dave is speaking!” He waited, even though the room was quiet. Then, “I have some news for you all. The Powers-that-be—” he paused in the hopes of laughter that never came, “—well, they’ve decided they want to reorganise the office a little. Now, that doesn’t mean redundancy, so that’s the good news.” He beamed, and his smile died a little as he realised no-one else was smiling. “Right, yes, well the bad news is that they’re going to move the tech teams up to this floor and we’re being relocated to a dedicated Project Compound on the ground floor. This all takes a bit of time, and apparently Facilities want to use this an opportunity to refurbish a bit too, so we’re all being asked to work remotely next week. Mike will be sending out an email a bit later on with details of the shared-working spaces that we’ve identified. HR insisted that you all be allocated a space near to where you work, so no-one would have to travel any further than they already do, which is nice of them.”
Jenna leaned forward, putting her mouth near Ashley’s ear. “In other words, they’re not paying any travel expenses for this,” she whispered.
“…find them quite acceptable really, and it is only for a week. Our stand-up on Monday will be at 10 rather than 9 so that you all have a chance to get any little niggles worked out in the remote working space, but otherwise it’s business as usual. Oh, and on the following Monday we’ll all convene in the cafeteria as I think Facilities want to show us round the Project Compound personally. Now, are there any questions?” Dave looked around hopefully. “Really? None? Oh, I guess I must have been clear enough then! Right, let’s all get back to work! Thank-you for coming!”
“Does that sound a bit sus to you?” said Ashley as she and Jenna walked back to their desks.
“Project Compound sounds sus,” said Jenna. “What are we, the Guantanamo Bay of Interwork?”
The email from Mike, who was Dave’s personal assistant, arrived about an hour later.
“I’m in Whitechapel,” said Jenna, looking up from her computer. “Looks like it’s actually walking distance for me. This might not be so bad, you know.”
“I’m by Liverpool Street,” said Ashley frowning. “That’s odd, I thought it was all banks and posh restaurants around there. But… it’s one bus. It’s not that bad.”
“What’s it called?” asked Jenna.
“Doorways.”
“Odd name… hmm, well, it’s got reviews on Tripadvisor, believe it or not. Good ones, by the looks of it.”
“Tripadvisor?!”
“I know, right? But there’s only the one match in London for remote working spaces called Doorways.”
The bus let Ashley off just before Liverpool Street, not far from the station, and she walked slowly along, turning right and following the instructions she’d memorised before leaving the house. There was a shop selling flowers, then a pub, and then — she walked past it twice before she finally spotted the white-framed glass door set back from the other buildings. It did say ‘Doorways’ on it, but you had to looking for it to see it. There was a keypad next to the door and she remembered then that Mike’s email had told her the entry code. She fiddled with her phone, found the email and the code, and tapped it in. The keypad bleeped twice and then buzzed and the door clicked. She grabbed the handle and pulled and it opened towards her.
Inside there was a narrow, white-painted corridor and then a flight of steep stairs. Going up she realised that Doorways must have the upper floors, above the shops and pub, and when the flight of stairs terminated in a short corridor with another flight of stairs at the end she realised that she was actually in the building behind the ones she’d walked past. The new flight of stairs ended on a small landing with light from a skylight above her, and another door in front of her. She pushed it open cautiously and stepped through.
“Lovely to see you!” said a voice from nowhere. She stopped, looking around. The floor was a pale laminated wood that made her think of IKEA furniture and there was an empty reception desk in a neat semi-circle to her left. On her right was another white-framed glass door, and through the glass she could see a corridor with several doors leading off it. They all seemed oddly close together and she wondered if she was going to be sat in a tiny, cloister-like cubicle for the week.
“I’m Iris,” said the voice and a short woman with hair so red it had to be dyed stood up from the other side of the reception desk. “Welcome to Doorways. Who are you with, dear?”
“Um, Interwork,” said Ashley. “I’m sorry, I’m new here.”
“Everyone is new everywhere at some time,” said Iris. “Interwork?” She moved behind the desk and opened a folder. After leafing through the papers in there she pulled a sheet out. “Aha, yes, there’s just you, right?”
“I don’t know,” said Ashley. “I wasn’t told who was coming here.”
“It’s just you,” said Iris. She put the paper down and smiled broadly. “Where would you like to work?”
Ashley smiled back wondering if this was some kind of bizarre test. She looked around again, in case she’d missed something, but there was still just this reception room and the corridors behind her and off to the side.
“Here?” she said.
“We do remote work,” said Iris, still smiling. “So… tell you what, I’ve got space on the beach, space in the mountains, and there’s always space in Dunheim. Which of those of takes your fancy?”
“The beach?” Ashley felt like everything she’d said since she’d arrived was a question but nothing made sense about this. Perhaps the ‘beach’, ‘mountains’ and ‘Dunheim’ were room names like ‘Azure’ and ‘Daffodil’ at Interwork.
“An excellent choice,” said Iris. “Don’t get sand in your laptop, and do wash your feet before you come back out, please. The cleaners complain about having to sweep the sand up.”
“What?”
“This way!” Iris gently nudged her towards the white-framed glass door to the corridor and then took the lead. She walked to the third door on the left and opened it. Ashley, following, nervously peered inside, expecting to see a row of desks and probably some other people curious about who was entering. Instead, she found herself staring at a white-sand beach, a row of deck-chairs each with a parasol above it, the sea in the distance and a shower facility a short distance from the doorway.
No comments:
Post a Comment