Breathe Read Free Page A

a glass ceiling. I’ve worked everywhere, they’re all the same.’
    Ben thinks for a moment and mumbles. ‘I – uh – well …’ Miranda mirrors his innocent look and returns it bigger. Maybe he should level with her.
    ‘Shit. Well, the truth is, a friend helped me make up my CV.’ He pulls a disc from his pocket. Miranda takes it from him and inserts it into the iMac. She opens the only file and examines his CV on screen. Apparently he has worked at three of the hottest companies in the city. Yeah, right.
    ‘Pretty fucking unconvincing. And you got away with this?’
    Ben checks his watch and pleads with Miranda. ‘For just over three minutes. Look …’
    ‘Miranda. Like in The Tempest .’
    ‘Miranda, I need this job,’ he pleads. Other workers have noticed their conversation and are pretending, rather obviously, not to listen.
    ‘But you’ve never done anything like it before.’
    ‘No. I was a hospital carer.’
    Miranda scrolls down through the document and finds a second CV – this must be the real one, because it’s a lot less impressive. It runs to all of three lines. ‘Bit of a career jump, wouldn’t you say?’ She reads on. REASON FOR TERMINATION. ‘Jesus, kicked out for organising a strike. Why do you even keep a copy of this?’
    ‘To remind me,’ he explains.
    ‘I wouldn’t, not around here. The central server searches everyone’s hard drives. Erase it if you’re planning to stay.’
    ‘I have to make this work.’ He doesn’t want to beg, but he will if necessary. ‘I can do it. It’s Health and Safety, how hard can it be?’
    ‘Harder than you think. But I may be able to help you. ‘
    Miss Fitch walks past. Her X-ray glare causes Miranda to break off. She waits for the all-clear before resuming.
    ‘We’re not supposed to be talking.’ She points to the tiny CCTV camera in the corner above their workstations. ‘It’s activated every time anyone moves their chair. It picks up signs of fraternisation and relays them to the management monitors. You should keep a screensaver made from a worksheet so that you can default to it when a supervisor passes. And put a pair of sunglasses on your desk. You can see who’s prowling around behind you.’
    ‘How do you know this stuff?’ he asks. Maybe she’s older than she looks.
    ‘I’m a temp on 100WPM/1BB. We know everything.’ She waves the question aside as she ejects his disc and slips it back in the case. ‘Hundred words a minute and one bathroom break a day. Highest rating. I don’t have to work here.’
    ‘Then why do you?’
    ‘They pay more. I’ll go with anyone. In a strictly business sense.’ A quick smile. Miranda’s voice carries, and others start to notice when she’s not getting on with her work. Ben means to look busy and committed, but it’s not easy.
    ‘But why is this place –’
    ‘No more questions. Seal those luscious lips.’ She holds a finger to her mouth. ‘I’ll meet you at the refreshment station in half an hour.’
    They stand before the coffee machine like spies exchanging secrets. Miranda points to another CCTV camera above them as she spoons in Nescafé. ‘The supervisors time our breaks. We’re not allowed tea because we’re sponsored by a coffee company.’
    ‘What about mineral water?’
    ‘Coca Cola. Approved company brands only. So why would you want to work here?’
    ‘The money, and I’ve got a lousy employment history. After the strike, I had a kind of a breakdown. I’m not good in stressful situations.’
    She hands him a styrofoam cup. ‘Well, you really picked the wrong place this time.’
    ‘Look, I just need to make some cash. Toe the line, be like everyone else and keep my mouth shut.’
    ‘You don’t look like someone who can do that.’ She’s flirting with him. She couldn’t be, could she?
    ‘I can do it,’ he says unconvincingly. ‘I’ll fit in and earn some hard cash if it kills me.’
    ‘It might do.’ She sips coffee with a smile. ‘The last