Room 46 & Short Story Collection Read online

  Rosie extracted a bulky key ring from her bulging, oversized handbag. As the office manager she sometimes felt that she had all the responsibilities of being the boss without any of the privileges or financial reward. She worked her way through the series of locks and disarmed the alarm, then held the door open for her workmates to enter.

  The first through the door was Bev who sighed in disapproval as she turned on the lights and surveyed the state of the office. Empty beer bottles littered a few of the desktops and chip packets lay on the floor along with a pile of crushed Styrofoam cups. Dirty dishes were haphazardly stacked in the small kitchen sink and a noticeable stench emanated from the overflowing rubbish bin. Giving a ‘tsk’ of annoyance, Bev headed for her locker to stow her bag. Although her official role was accounts clerk, Bev considered herself to also be the unofficial maid, as nobody else seemed to be capable of even basic cleaning tasks.

  Ross headed straight for his desk. He had been one of the last to leave the Christmas Eve drinks and had vague, unsettling memories of taking photos of various staff members that seemed like a lot of fun at the time, but might well be considered inappropriate in the cold light of day when dead sober. As one of the system administrators at least he had the ability to get them off his hard drive and off the office network in case they had found their way on to it.

  Scott went into the storeroom and wheeled out the portable TV into the communal workspace area. Plugging it in, he began fiddling with the rabbit’s ears antenna and eventually tuned into Channel 9. As long as they were stuck here for the day, they should at least be able to see what was happening at the Gabba. If he were at home he wouldn’t have missed a minute of the cricket on TV or better still could have joined his mates at the Gabba to soak up the atmosphere of the match, along with a few beers.

  Eyeing her cluttered workspace, Rosie sighed wearily. It was always so easy to waltz out of the office on Christmas Eve full of cheer and unconcerned about what you were leaving behind. Facing the mess on your first day back was another thing altogether.

  Eventually she decided to address the staff. ‘Okay guys, I know none of us want to be here, but we are so let’s try and have a productive day. I’m not saying we have to work at full capacity but we’ll need something to show for being here for eight hours.’

  First Rosie gave Bev a hand restoring the kitchen to order as Scott collected the empty beer bottles from the main work area. As much as Mr Small seemed to think they would be swamped with calls from people whose hard drives had crashed or who had opened a suspicious email and come under a viral attack, the phone hadn’t rung yet so she had plenty of time to get her own work done later.

  ‘I suppose you’ve got big plans for tonight,’ said Bev as she handed Rosie a plate to dry.

  Listening to the details of Rosie’s action packed weekends was a Monday lunch tradition for most of the staff at SmallWorld. They all agreed it must be hard for her to fit work in around her social life. Bev knew that Rosie would surely be out until the sun rose on THE party night of the year.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Rosie agreed. ‘Too many invites and not enough time! I’ll narrow it down by this afternoon. Southbank is always fun … or Surfers or Mooloolaba even. I don’t suppose I’ll have time to get on a flight to Sydney,’ she added. ‘The fireworks there are always amazing.’

  Shaking her head at the very idea of flying to another city on the spur of the moment, Bev said, ‘I envy you young single women of today. You’ve got the freedom to go out and do what you like without the stigma of spinsterhood that my generation was saddled with.’

  ‘Yeah I guess we do,’ Rosie said with a smile as she attempted to stack the plates back into the crowded cupboard above the sink. ‘How about you?’ Rosie asked. ‘Do you and Ed host a big neighbourhood bash or anything?’

  Bev couldn’t help but chuckle as she scrubbed the coffee stains out of a white mug. ‘No, no nothing like that. We’ve always taken New Year’s Eve quietly, instead of getting caught up in those big crowds. We’ll be in bed by ten as usual and get up early to see the sun rise tomorrow.’

  ‘Each to their own,’ Rosie said, hanging up her tea towel to dry and looking around the clean kitchen. ‘There, that wasn’t so bad after all. It’s always easier to do the dishes when you’ve got company.’

  ‘Thanks Rosie, you’re absolutely right,’ Bev said as she let the water out of the sink and wiped down the bench. ‘I can concentrate on those invoices now that I’ve got this all sorted out.’

  Ross was the only one hard at work. Unfortunately, the work he was doing was putting out fires – yes, fires that he had started. He decided that next time he intended to drink at an office function he would remove the power cable from his computer before the party started and lock it in the office safe. Ross couldn’t believe he had managed to wreak so much havoc with the internal office email when he was so drunk. How had he even remembered his passwords let alone the complex steps required to create a file share?

  While his workmates were distracted by other chores, Ross cleared the offending photos off the network and set about deleting the emails he had forwarded to all staff. This could only be done if the emails were unopened, so he had to work quickly. Preoccupied with the task at hand he jumped in fright when Scott appeared at his desk.

  ‘Geez mate, you scared the living daylights out of me. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.’

  ‘I wasn’t sneaking; I called out to you twice. What’s got you so busy over here anyway?’

  Ross managed to minimise the screen he was working on before it was in Scott’s line of vision. ‘A rogue email slipped through the firewall, I’m just deleting it,’ he replied casually, hoping to stall Scott before he had a chance to check his inbox. ‘What’s news anyway? Any nasty Christmas viruses we should know about?’

  Scott sat on a nearby desk. ‘No not really. The drunken Santa attachment was the worst of them and that was contained pretty well before Christmas Eve. I’ve only had one call. The guy said he was desperate until I told him the callout fee, then he said he could wait until Monday and bring it in here.’

  ‘People have got other things on their minds today; they’re gearing up for a big night,’ Ross said as he surreptitiously binned the last of the offending emails.

  Scott scrunched a piece of paper into a ball then tossed and caught it. Well known around the office as a cricket fanatic he was always throwing, bowling or batting something. ‘So,’ he said casually, ‘what are you up to tonight? Footloose and fancy free, you must have big plans?’

  ‘Oh you know me Scott, lead me somewhere where there’s plenty of alcohol and I’ll be happy as Larry. Goodness knows where I’ll wake up tomorrow morning, or who with.’

  Feeling a great sense of relief now that all the photos were deleted, Ross leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. ‘What about you? That lovely young wife of yours taking you out on the town?’

  Scott continued to throw and catch the paper ball. ‘No, it’ll be a quiet one for me. Lara is working a night shift, so I’m staying home in solidarity. It’s no fun to party hard without her there anyway.’

  Ross’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You really mean that? You’d rather stay home alone than have a big night without your wife?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Wow, you young blokes have got it all worked out. I bet that line of thinking earns you lots of brownie points.’

  ‘Oh yes, it has its compensations all right,’ Scott agreed.

  The morning ambled on slowly, punctuated by an occasional phone call, including from a few staff members who wanted to gloat.

  ‘Actually we’re having a great day here,’ Rosie said to her workmate Siobhan. ‘We’re sitting around watching the cricket and getting paid for it.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ Siobhan laughed. ‘You couldn’t have paid me enough to come into work today. I’m halfway through a bottle of wine, lying in a hammock – no amount of money can make up for that.’

 
‘That may well be true, but today will pay off half my credit card bill,’ Rosie countered.

  ‘I’m not even thinking about that yet,’ Siobhan said. ‘I’ll let you get back to the cricket,’ she added. ‘What’s the score by the way?’

  ‘Not sure, there’s an ad break on,’ Rosie said briskly before hanging up. She knew she shouldn’t let Siobhan needle her and she should consider it a compliment that Mr Small trusted her enough to run the show in his absence, but she would trade it all in a second to be back at the beach.

  That wasn’t going to happen though and Rosie finally got stuck into her work. Within the hour she had her desk tidied, filing done and her emails up to date. Checking around the office the other staff were apparently just as productive. Bev had the end of month invoices run and ready for mailing. Ross was talking someone through using a system restore point over the phone and Scott was undertaking simple virus removal jobs on machines that had been left in the workshop, all the while keeping one eye on the cricket.

  Just before twelve they headed to the nearby pub for lunch. Rosie diverted the office phone to her mobile, but didn’t expect too many calls. They each ordered a drink from the bar and then selected a table in the corner, away from the noise of the pool tables and poker machines.

  ‘Getting started on your New Year festivities early?’ the young waitress asked cheerily, as she handed out the menus and pointed out the specials board. ‘Isn’t it great to work days so we can all go out and party the night away?’

  They all nodded eagerly.

  Picking up her menu, Rosie grinned wickedly. ‘Order whatever you like guys. Smally can afford it.’

  Bev walked over to the counter to study the specials board. Looking around the crowded pub and feeling the festive atmosphere she sighed deeply. As she had told Rosie, she and Ed never made a fuss about New Year’s Eve but the truth was she would love to sample it, just once. Marrying in her early twenties and having her family young meant that at the age of fifty-one she now had all the time in the world for a social life but no real opportunity. She loved Ed, she really did; he was a kind, considerate, hardworking man. He just liked a quiet life and believed that a night out at the RSL once a week was more than enough socialising.

  Bev didn’t want to go out and get drunk or join the teeming crowds at Southbank, but it would be nice to be out somewhere, just doing something to mark the occasion. Deciding on the mixed grill – same as she always had – Bev went back to the table ready to continue her façade of a quiet New Year’s Eve by choice.

  Ross sipped his light beer and resisted the temptation to order a double scotch. He didn’t think Rosie would make that much of a fuss if he did, but given that he did have plans to get spectacularly drunk that night, he knew he should pace himself.

  He had given Scott the impression that he was going out somewhere to write himself off, but in reality he had no plans to leave his house. It would be too pathetic. New Year’s Eve had been his wedding anniversary for fifteen years and he and his wife had always hosted a big party. Recently separated, he had hoped that his children might at least want to spend some time with him, but their mother had taken them to Noosa instead. ‘It will be a chance for them to create some new, positive memories,’ she had informed him nastily the previous week.

  Okay, he could admit that the last few NYE bashes had seen him get a little out of control. But between his brother Rick and his neighbour Eddie, he had to keep up. It wasn’t like he deliberately dropped the horrifically expensive, special order white chocolate mud cake face down onto the concrete last year. And, yes, in hindsight, throwing a chunk of the cake into the crowd and yelling ‘food fight!’ was not his best idea ever. Then again it wasn’t as if they could eat it. As for throwing his wife’s boss into the pool, well, of course he wouldn’t have done that if he had known she couldn’t swim.

  Ross put down his beer and turned his attention to the menu. Given that he had skipped breakfast and would not be eating that night he chose the seafood basket, which was huge. At least he would have some nutrition for the day.

  When the waitress came back over to take their orders she looked closely at Scott. ‘Aren’t you Lara’s boyfriend?’ she asked.

  ‘Husband actually,’ Scott replied proudly. ‘You’re Nicky right?’

  ‘Yes that’s me. Lara and I were at school together, but I didn’t know she got married. Wow, that must be nice, you’ve got a built in social life when you’re a couple, none of the angst of the single life.’

  ‘Too true,’ Scott replied cheerily, hoping he sounded believable.

  As a young newlywed he had taken it for granted that the social night of the year would be sorted this year. He had smugly believed that he and Lara could go on a romantic getaway somewhere and enjoy whatever NYE festivities were on offer there. Unfortunately, that plan had died when Lara’s roster came out. His plan B to catch up with his single friends had also been shot down.

  Of course he had told Ross he was staying home in solidarity, but it wasn’t a question of solidarity, more of survival. Lara had bluntly spelled out the consequences if he went out drinking and having fun while she ‘slaved away in a grotty hospital Emergency Department filled with idiots who couldn’t hold their booze.’ He had learned very early in his marriage that it was not acceptable for him to enjoy himself while his wife did shift work.

  Keen to take the spotlight off himself and his social life, he asked Nicky if he could have wedges with his steak sandwich instead of chips.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said.

  After Nicky left, the four workmates looked at each other a little shyly. It was a bit weird but outside the confines of the office they weren’t sure what to say to each other. There had been other office lunches of course and parties, but never just the four of them together in a social setting.

  Rosie broke the ice. ‘So Scott, is it true that you gave up your dreams of playing cricket for Australia to come and work at SmallWorld?’

  Scott laughed. ‘Oh yeah, it was the hardest choice of my life. I mean a six figure salary and lots of first class travel around the world is all well and good, but it’s not a long term career like the IT business.’

  The other three laughed and looked at their workmate with interest. Scott was always so quiet and unassuming, they had never realised he had a sense of humour.

  As lunch wore on and the workmates became more relaxed, confidences began to be exchanged.

  ‘At my interview I told Mr Small I was very experienced with Rapid Pay which was a little bit of an exaggeration,’ Rosie confessed. ‘Then the next week he puts me in charge of setting it up for the company!’

  ‘What did you do?’ Bev asked. ‘I remember you had it up and running in no time.’

  ‘I sub-contracted it out to another firm,’ she said with a grin. ‘It cost me my first two months’ salary, but Mr Small never realised. Given that nobody else knew anything about it, I could just faff around and act like I knew what I was doing. And I managed to offload that job over to you quick smart Bev.’

  ‘Yes you did,’ said Bev with a knowing smile.

  ‘Well played Rosie.’ Ross smiled and held his beer aloft.

  Rosie clinked her glass against Ross’ before looking around the table. ‘All right guys come on, I’ve owned up to something now you have to as well.’

  Scott spoke up first. ‘Remember the Dracula virus that ran rampant about two years ago? Well I was the one who let it through. One of my idiot friends forwarded it and I unthinkingly opened it. Luckily it never got traced back to me.’

  Ross stared at him in shock. ‘Man I worked overtime for two weeks to fix that sucker! You’re lucky it scrambled everything so badly it covered your tracks. Smally would have had your guts for garters if he found out.’

  ‘Yeah, tell me about it,’ Scott agreed. ‘That whole experience was what inspired me to specialise in virus removal.’

  Taking another slug of his drink Ross spoke again. ‘I used to give
out pirated copies of Windows XP. Every member of my extended family and all my friends got one. Then they re-pirated it to their friends and so on. I reckon I cost Microsoft thousands of bucks.’

  They all gave mock expressions of horror.

  ‘I put laxatives in Mr Small’s coffee one day,’ Bev said quietly.

  ‘Whoa!’ exclaimed Rosie. ‘Bev wins hands down!’ Looking at her workmate expectantly she said, ‘Come on, you can’t give us that without the rest of the details.’

  Bev blushed. ‘When we changed to the new accounts system he was just unbearable. He blamed me every time something went wrong and refused to accept responsibility for the fact that he was the one who wanted it in the first place.’

  ‘He’s not always the most reasonable man,’ Rosie said.

  ‘Anyway,’ Bev said, ‘one day I couldn’t take it anymore. So I laced his International Roast with Go-Lax and he suddenly had more urgent business to attend to.’

  They were still laughing about it when Nicky came over to clear their table.

  By the time ninety minutes ticked over the gang of four had become so comfortable in each other’s company that none of them wanted to leave. Eventually though, they knew they should get back.

  ‘I want to finish early so I can gear up for a huge night,’ Rosie explained.

  ‘Here, here,’ Ross agreed.

  Leaving her phone on the table Rosie went up to settle the bill while the others continued to talk. A loud techno ring tone startled them all when the mobile rang. Bev grabbed the phone but she wasn’t wearing her glasses and accidentally hit the loudspeaker key. Holding it at arm’s length and peering at the newfangled touch screen, she still hadn’t worked it out by the time it switched to message bank still on loudspeaker.