The Temporary by Rachel Cusk Read Free Book Online Page B

it were a foreign language.
    ‘Excuse me?’ she said, after a pause.
    Jane lifted her head like a guard-dog detecting an intruder.
    ‘I said gimme Gary.’
    Francine paused.
    ‘I’m afraid I don’t know who Gary is.’
    ‘Who is this?’ said the man impatiently.
    ‘Francine,’ said Francine stupidly. She felt herself beginning to drift away and pulled herself back sharply. Jane writhed beside her in her seat. ‘I’m new here,’ she added. Her blunder had brought heat to her face.
    ‘Well, Francine, all I can say is you must be pretty new,’ said the man. ‘Gary’s your boss, honey.’ There was a pause. ‘Ha! Ha!’ he suddenly shouted. ‘Ha!’
    Francine giggled politely.
    ‘We’re not on first-name terms yet,’ she said.
    ‘First-name terms!’ said the man after a pause. ‘Ha! Gary! Gimme Lancing, honey. That all right for you?’
    ‘Who shall I say is calling?’ said Francine, keeping the warm edge of humour in her volce.
    ‘Jim – no, Mr Vernon. Ha! Tell him Mr Vernon’s on the line for him.’
    ‘Just a moment, Mr Vernon,’ said Francine.
    ‘Nice to know you, Francine,’ said Jim as she put him on hold.
    ‘Mr Lancing!’ she called firmly, humming with success. Jane’s examination burned beside her and she turned away slightly, blocking her out. Mr Lancing looked up, his mouth agape.
    ‘Somebody call me?’ he said.
    ‘Mr Vernon for you,’ said Francine. He appeared confused and she waved the receiver helpfully.
    ‘Put him on.’
    Mr Lancing gripped his phone expectantly and Francine ran her eye down a list of numbers attached to her extension. She located his number and put the call through.
    ‘Hello?’ said Mr Lancing loudly, as if uncertain whether his voice would travel down the wire without reinforcement.
    ‘Well,’ sniffed Jane as Francine turned triumphantly to face her. ‘You seem fairly confident. You shouldn’t have any trouble coping.’
    ‘Oh, I’m used to this sort of thing.’
    ‘I think you’ll find this position rather more demanding than what you’re used to, actually. Mr Lancing is a very important man.’
    ‘I think I’m going to like him.’
    ‘Well, I think the point is rather more whether he likes you, isn’t it?’ Jane’s teeth made a menacing reappearance. She stood up and smoothed her furrowed skirt tightly over her hips. ‘Let me know if you have any problems.’
    She eased herself out from behind the desk and walked towards the door.
    ‘Bye, everyone!’ she called out when she reached it. One or two people looked up but there was no audible reply. Jane smiled widely and disappeared.
    As soon as she had gone, Francine saw Mr Lancing’s colleague move smoothly from behind his desk and approach her across the office, his eyes fixed with studied absorption on a piece of paper in his hand. She sat down, busying herself with Mr Lancing’s diary. He loomed before her and she bent her head in concentration.
    ‘I haven’t had the pleasure,’ he said finally.
    She looked up and he smiled urbanely. He was younger than Mr Lancing and quite good looking, Francine thought,but his handsomeness was fatigued through over-use and his skin had a slightly thickened, curdled quality suggestive of decline. His belly strained at the waist of his trousers. As if sensing her looking at it, he pulled it in sharply without removing his eyes from her face.
    ‘I’m Francine.’
    ‘Roger Louche, co-Director,’ he said, putting out his hand. She shook it, and was surprised to feel coarse hair on his skin beneath her fingers. The intimacy of her discovery seemed inappropriate in the atmosphere of the office and she felt herself begin to blush. ‘Glad to have you with us, Francine.’ He sat down on the edge of her desk, his manner abruptly changed. ‘So how long do you think you’ll stay?’
    ‘As long as I’m needed,’ said Francine, shrinking from the proximity of his bulk. From its fringes she could see one or two of the other secretaries watching