Upside Down Inside Out Read Free Page B

coffee and opened up the folder. They had a lot to get through this morning. They had a lot to get through every morning lately. She’d been working for Joseph for nearly three years now and it had never been busier. The fact that he was going to Australia for two weeks was adding to the pressure. She took out the glossy conference program that had just arrived from the Sydney conference organisers. They were certainly giving Joseph star billing. She skim-read the biography:
     
    London-based Joseph Wheeler has a well-deserved reputation for excellence and innovation in the field of industrial and ergonomic design in the UK. Three years of research with physiotherapists led to his groundbreaking backpack design which features a weight carrying system that…
    Good, it was all there and up-to-date. It was just a shame the photo of Joseph in the program was two years old - he hadn’t had the time to get a new one taken. She looked over at the real thing, several metres away. Joseph was leaning down beside one of the designers, pointing out a detail on the computer screen, listening as the young woman explained a problem she was having with the new chair design. He didn’t look that different these days, Rosemary thought. The only real difference was in the expression. In the photo he looked full of life, eyes alight, mouth on the verge of smiling. He hadn’t looked like that in real life for months.
    As she watched he ran his fingers through his dark hair, leaving a tuft standing up. He did this often, especially when he was getting stressed. She could tell his anxiety levels by the number of tufts standing up. So far, today had been a three-tuft day. Medium stress. Maurice’s visit could probably account for two of those - his fortnightly visits were a waterfall of financial details, royalty statements, contracts and bank accounts. Joseph was working far too hard, Rosemary thought, and he didn’t seem to be revelling in it as much as he used to. He seemed distracted. Preoccupied.
    She doubted that anyone else in the office would have noticed. Certainly his outward appearance hadn’t changed at all. He was as stylish as ever. Though he still wore far too much black for
    Rosemary’s taste. Just like her son. What was it with these young men? Didn’t they believe in colours?
    She’d often heard the young designers in his company - the men and the women - talk breathlessly about Joseph’s appearance. ‘But he’s not conventionally handsome, is he?’ they’d ask each other. ‘No, he’s interesting-looking. And those come-to-bed eyes of his …’
    Rosemary had rolled her own eyes at that. Not so much come-to-bed as haven’t-been-to-bed-enough eyes, she thought.
    ‘Sorry for keeping you, Rosemary.’
    She looked up as Joseph walked in and took a seat at his desk. ‘Is everything on track out there?’ she asked as she poured his coffee.
    ‘We’re nearly there with the chair design. But if we get the contract for the airline seats I’m going to have to take on at least two more designers. Could you please draft up an ad, just in case?’
    Rosemary made a note. ‘I heard back from the conference people in Sydney this morning, by the way. They’ve changed your flight booking as requested. They were astonished, I have to say. First time in living memory one of their keynote speakers has asked to be downgraded to economy class on an international flight, they said.’
    She’d started to worry for Joseph’s sanity herself when he’d suggested it. ‘You want to fly to Australia economy class?’ Are you mad? she hadn’t said aloud.
    Joseph had been decisive. ‘It’s an ideal opportunity. If I’m going to be designing new long-haul airline seats, I’ll need that first-hand experience.’
    ‘Can’t you just walk through economy class on the way to your business-class seat?’ she’d dared to ask.
    He’d smiled at that. But he hadn’t changed his mind.
    Joseph flicked through the conference program.