A Christmas to Remember
Home, Day 3 (Afternoon): Tuesday, 30 December
"And I was thinking of hiring a flying dragon to eat employees who use the copy machine for personal use."
"Sounds good," the Doctor said to Barbara without looking away from his computer. "Wait—what?" he said after her words finally registered.
Barbara laughed. "You were off in some other dimension," she said from her side of the desk. "I was trying to get your attention."
"Sorry," he said. The fact that the Doctor's mind was not focused on anything related to the company must have evident to Barbara.
"Care to share with the rest of the class?"
"Mind's distracted," the Doctor said simply. On his computer screen was Rose Tyler's profile page. He had been staring at it as if doing so would help him come up with a plan for how to see her again. But at Barbara's quip, he switched it off, so that only his normal desktop appeared. Then a thought came to him. "Barbara, do you know who was responsible for the transition process after we acquired Henrick's?"
"Not off the top of my head," Barbara said. "Why?"
"Met a former assistant manager from Henrick's while on holiday," he said. "Turns out whoever was in charge of the retail store laid off everyone who had a managerial title and replaced them with people from within Arcadia."
"That makes no sense," said Barbara with a frown. "Other than hiring an extra manager at the store to help merge the companies, the only changes were supposed to be at the corporate level. And the two executives who were leaving were the ones we bought out. And they stepped down voluntarily."
"It's like the whole plan got rewritten by an idiot," the Doctor said.
"I'll look into this right after I make a sign for the copier," said Barbara, standing. "Something's clearly not right."
Two hours later, the Doctor stood in front of the copy machine waiting for it to finish copying the spreadsheets he had forgotten to give to Lynda to take care of. (She had enough to do already, so he figured he might as well finish the task himself.) He saw the new sign that had been posted above machine and chuckled. It consisted of a picture of a dragon and a message that read:
Copier protected by attack dragon.
Employees caught making copies for personal use will be eaten.
"Nice sign," he said as Barbara walked up to him. "But remind me to be more careful what I approve next time."
Barbara smiled at the Doctor's comment, but her smile quickly changed to a frown. "I found the person who does deserve to be devoured by a dragon," she said. "I have some documents on my computer to show you. Unfortunately the layoffs were not an idiot mistake. "
The Doctor followed Barbara to her office, and after she had shut the door, he pulled a chair around to her side of the desk so he could see what she had to share.
"Look," Barbara said, pointing at her screen and directing him to a plan that had been drawn up in early September. "The whole thing was supposed to be overseen by Nicole De Maggio. But," she said as she opened a new document, "this one a month later shows Adam Mitchell in charge."
"Adam?" the Doctor said surprised as he looked at the screen. "The twenty-year-old tech genius that finished university early? He was hired for IT, not management. No one would have authorized that change."
"Exactly my thought," Barbara agreed. "So I did some digging." She opened a document that listed the twelve current Henrik's managers and assistant managers then opened each of their job histories. When Barbara had finished, her screen was covered with files . "It seems Adam hired one person from each of our other retailers and raised their salary at their new position at Henrik's. But this person," she said, pointing to the screen, "Suki Cantrell, has no record with us before starting at Henrik's."
"One of his friends?" guessed the Doctor.
"I thought so," Barbara said, "but the records are faked. That employee doesn't even exist, but 'her' pay has been directly deposited into a bank downtown since the end of October. And it's twice as much as any assistant manager at that store has ever made."
"He must've hacked the system and put himself over the transition," the Doctor concluded. "Then he created a fake employee and took that salary for himself. And since the managers were all new and didn't know each other, they didn't catch on."
"Looks that way," Barbara said. "And he paid them well so they'd think twice about speaking up even if they had suspected anything. Ooh, it makes me so angry!" She looked out through the tinted windowed wall of her office and directly at the deceitful young man, who was sitting at his desk with his back to them. "He did all this sitting just a few meters from me!"
The Doctor stood, walked to the glass wall, and looked out. Adam Mitchell was talking on the phone, laughing, unaware that he was being watched. If Barbara was angry, the Doctor was livid. The position for which the technology expert had set up a fake account had been identical to Rose's. Logically he knew that even if Adam had used a different position, Rose would still have lost her job, but this somehow made it more personal. "Where's that dragon?" he asked as the muscles in his jaw tightened. "Sacking him isn't enough."
"He can be prosecuted for embezzlement too," said Barbara, getting up from her chair and walking to where the Doctor stood.
"Still not enough," the Doctor said. The tension in his jaw spread to the rest of his body and a fire blazed within him. He almost believed he could channel it and become that fire-breathing dragon and consume the object of his ire.
"At least we caught it rather early," Barbara said. Her voice was calm and steady but it did little to soothe the beast within the Doctor. "We didn't lose much."
"We didn't lose much?" the Doctor asked incredulously. "Twelve people lost their job right before Christmas!"
"I didn't mean that," Barbara said. "I just meant that as far as fiscal loss—"
"But that's not what matters!" the Doctor shouted, interrupting her. He saw her instantly shrink back, and knew he had to regain control. He took a deep breath. "Those people," he said, "many of whom survive from one paycheck to the next—have lost their livelihood."
Neither person spoke as they considered the impact of Adam Mitchell's actions.
"Maybe we can rectify some of this," Barbara said finally. "We have the information on everyone that was let go. And we own several retail stores that have openings. We could contact the people that were let go and offer them a similar position to the one they had."
"Damage's already been done," the Doctor said, shaking his head. "They might not want our help." He thought of Rose's rejection of his offer and his face darkened. "Seen that happen."
"That is a possibility," agreed Barbara. "They might never trust us again." She walked back to her desk, sat down, and selected something on the screen. "Or they might understand the situation and that we doing our best to make amends." She moved her mouse and typed something on the keyboard. Soon the printer started working. "We have to try at least."
The Doctor contemplated Barbara's words as he watched the printer spit out one paper after another. A few minutes later, twelve sheets of paper waited in the printer tray.
"There we are," Barbara said walking over to the printer and removing the printed pages. "We can give these employee files to the HR department and have them call with job offers."
"Have HR make a list of available positions," the Doctor said. "But give me a copy of the files. I want to make the calls."
"You don't have to do that," Barbara said. "We have personnel to help for a reason."
"My company. My fault," he told her. "I need apologize." He looked once again at the traitorous worker. "Had a sense I shouldn't trust that boy, but hired him anyway." He stared out the window paralyzed by feelings of guilt. Just like the fire that had taken his family, he had ignored the warnings and people had gotten hurt. "Said it wasn't my fault, but it is."
"Then I'm to blame too"" said Barbara, walking back over to the window. "You forget I convinced you to give him a try." The Doctor barely heard her. Thoughts of Rose mingled with thoughts of Susan and his parents. Despite the charities he supported and the fair and ethical way he tried to run his business, he did not feel he was the good man people thought him to be. He was definitely not the type of man Rose deserved. "John," Barbara's voice seemed to echo from somewhere distant. "John, are you even listening?"
Her voice sounded kind. Kinder than he believed he deserved. He should respond, but he was trapped in a guilt-induced stupor from which he couldn't escape.
"John!" Barbara's voice said with more insistence. "DOCTOR!"
The Doctor blinked. He turned his head in the direction of the voice and beheld the concerned visage of his colleague and friend.
"You need to let me share the blame and help fix this," she said.
The Doctor nodded and turned from the window. He did his best to clear his mind. "Write up his dismissal papers and call the proper authorities," he said. "But I want to be the one to show Adam the door."
Rose sat nervously in the lobby of the Flydale Fashions office waiting to be called for her interview. She had checked and rechecked her appearance several times and had deemed it acceptable, but now she was not as certain. That morning she had gone to the large Flydale store in Piccadilly Circus to select an outfit for her interview. Though the store's focus was trendy clothes for young people, she was able to select a skirt and a blouse that, though bolder than typical office attire, was still conservative enough to fit in among typical business dress. She then found shoes that were smart and simple, but with strap around the ankle and a large buckle that gave them a youthful vibe. She tied the look together with a pink and purple silk infinity scarf she had bought at the store on a previous trip and a conservative handbag and navy blazer that she had purchased elsewhere. Because her clothes were more daring, she kept her hair, jewelry, and makeup simple. Rose knew she looked good, and choosing the right clothes for the occasion was an area Rose knew she was skilled at, but the part of her that thought she was applying for a job that was beyond her was messing with her confidence.
Rose closed her eyes, then inhaled and exhaled slowly. At the last minute she had taken the flash drive the Doctor had given her and put it in her blazer pocket. She couldn't explain her reason for doing so—she doubted it would be of use during the interview— but for some reason, it seemed comforting to bring it along. Now she reached in her pocket and turned it in her hand like a worry stone. As she did, she remembered the message the Doctor had written for her:
You can do so much more than you've given yourself credit for. You've just let doubts get in the way…If you can see yourself as I have, no one can take that away.
Rose focused on those words and took them to heart. Then she remembered the Doctor's suggestion that she look him up once she had a new job so they could celebrate over dinner. Rose was done with regrets. If she was confident enough to interview for a choice position at a successful company, she also had the confidence to ring the Doctor and tell him she had made a mistake by not continuing contact. From there they could tackle the challenges their differences brought one day at a time.
Rose smiled. It was decided. She was going into the interview with the belief that she deserved the job. Then—job offer or not—she was going to look up Arcadia Associated's number, and somehow or other, she was going to find the Doctor.
"Rose Tyler?" a young man said, interrupting her thoughts. "Ms. Jones will see you now."
Rose walked into the office and was greeted by a woman who appeared to be in her early fifties with a fashionable yet conservative business outfit and auburn hair cut in a classic bob. "Harriet Jones, HR for Flydale Fashions," the woman said extending her hand and returning Roses smile.
"Yes, hello," Rose said. "Nice to meet you."
"It's wonderful to meet you," Ms. Jones said. "I'll be blunt. Your resume and experience has management very excited. As long as what I see in person matches what is written, they are ready to hire you today."
Rose's heart skipped a beat and it took incredible willpower to stay professional. She was used to interviewers keeping her in suspense for the entire meeting. "Um, well. Thank you Ms. Jones. I am grateful for the opportunity to show you who I am."
"Please," the HR director said, "call me Harriet. Shall we sit down?"
Rose nodded and took a step toward the desk.
"No, no," Harriet said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Over here." She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city, by which two floral wing-back chairs sat facing each other at an angle. Between them, also along the window, was a small round wooden table. Rose thought the sitting area was lovely, but it stood in stark contrast to the modern professional look of the rest of the office.
"Do have a seat," Harriet said, indicating one of the chairs. Rose sat. "I find that one needs a place to be comfortable, even in the midst of a busy day," the woman explained. "I also think that an interview goes better if we can converse on more equal ground rather than with an imposing desk between us." She made a motion to sit as well, but then paused. "I bet you'd like a coffee," she said.
"That would be nice, thank you," said Rose. "Milk, two sugars."
Harriet requested two coffees from the young man who had seen Rose in, then sat in the chair opposite Rose. Harriet Jones carried herself with the poise of nobility, but her interview methods were unconventional. While they waited for their coffee, she asked Rose about her Christmas and Rose told her about her ski holiday. Even after the young man had brought their coffee, Harriet continued to ask for details. Rose found herself sharing most of her trip, even mentioning the Doctor but just referring to him as "a friend of mine," and leaving out all other details.
"Oh to be younger!" said Harriet with a wistful smile. "I remember the days when my holidays were like that. I tend to prefer tours of historical places these days."
"I'd love that too," agreed Rose. "But I also enjoy the excitement of seeing a thriving city."
"If that's the case," Harriet said. "This job just might be the right fit for you." Harriet set down her empty coffee mug and focused her attention on Rose. "Tell me, how did you hear about Flydale fashions?"
"Well, of course everybody has," Rose said. "It's one of the most popular shops for young people in Britain. I especially love the current selection of infinity scarves."
"I see you are wearing one from our fall line," Harriet noted. "So you've bought from the store in the past."
"Yes," said Rose. "Naturally, most of my wardrobe used to come from Henrik's, the shop I used to work at, but whenever I wasn't at work I liked to create outfits with pieces from other popular retailers. Flydale has always been a favorite."
"But Henrik's has nice items as well," commented Harriet. "You spent much of your time as a personal shopper and even advised management in the purchasing of certain clothing lines is that correct?"
"It is," Rose said. "I enjoy following the trends and predicting what will be popular the next season."
"Wonderful," Harriet said. "From your resume, it seems that all your experience and training in that area was acquired on the job."
"That's true," Rose said, doing her best to sound confident. She ignored the voice that urged her to flee and apologize to Harriet Jones for wasting her time.
"That's very impressive," Harriet told her. "And it's even more impressive that you were bold enough to apply for a job as assistant buyer without formal training. Tell me, how did you hear about the position and what inspired you to take that chance?"
"A friend referred me," she said. The safe thing to do would have been to stop there, but there was something she liked about Harriet Jones, so she elaborated. "The one I mentioned earlier. We actually met on holiday and I found out that he worked in management for the company that bought out Henrik's."
"The company that laid you and several others off due to corporate restructuring?" Harriet asked.
"Yes." Rose wondered if she had said too much, but now she had no choice but to be forthcoming.
"After you learned this, you still chose to be friends, then he referred you to one of the company's competitors?" Harriet asked in amazement.
"That's right," said Rose with a grin. "He even helped me with my resume."
"Well, that's a strange friendship," Harriet commented.
Rose supposed the woman was right, but she realized that it didn't matter. It had been wonderful, and just because parts of their relationship were unconventional, there was no reason to assume it couldn't t continue as it had begun. None of this, of course, had anything to do with the position she was interviewing for, so Rose quickly regained focus and tried to think of a response that would show herself in the best light. However, Harriet spoke again before she had the chance.
"No matter," she said. "I am just glad he sent us your way. The management likes the idea of hiring an assistant buyer who is newer to the business and has not had all the creativity trained out of them."
Rose smiled in response but kept the excitement that was bubbling within her from being evident.
"You will, of course, need to get the proper training so that you can understand normal protocols," Harriet continued, "but Flydale would like to provide that education at an establishment of our choosing. You would be taking classes and working concurrently. Is that something you think you could manage?"
"Oh absolutely!" exclaimed Rose, forgetting her professional demeanor.
Harriet laughed good-naturedly. "Then the job is yours if you want it," she said "I suppose all that is left is to discuss salary. What wage are you hoping to make?"
Rose told Harriet the figure the Doctor had suggested in his notes to her. And though it seemed like far too much, Harriet told her that she found it a very fair number and offered a salary that was slightly higher. She then told Rose to come by the next day to fill out paperwork, get a tour of the corporate office, and to meet the CEO and the others she would be working with.
Once the details were discussed, Harriet stood up and Rose followed her lead. "Well, my dear," said Harriet. "Welcome to the Flydale Fashions Family."
Rose motioned to shake her hand, but Harriet hugged her instead. "Make sure you thank your friend for the referral and the help," Harriet said as she walked Rose to the door of her office.
"I will," Rose said. "As soon as I'm able."
"What's her name?" Barbara said from the doorway of the Doctor's office.
The Doctor looked up from the page he was reading to acknowledge Barbara, then back down at the page again to read the name at the top. "Says Amy Pond," he answered. "Called ten of the laid-off workers, she's the eleventh."
His colleague walked in and sat in the chair in front of his desk. "That's not what I meant," said Barbara. "Every time I've stepped in here this afternoon, you've taken the page you were looking at and stuck it somewhere in the middle of the stack."
He had. Something kept drawing him back to the paper with Rose's information. In between calling her former co-workers, he would stare at the page wondering if he should call her or perhaps just show up at her door. But whenever Barbara had come in, he had felt like a child who had been caught reading comic books instead of doing homework. So he had stuck the file back in the middle and tried to concentrate on his task.
"Do you have a reason for questioning the way I work, or is there something I can help you with?" groused the Doctor.
"That's not going to work anymore, Doctor," said Barbara. "If you are my friend and not just John, my boss, I have the right to show concern. You seem to be reacting to more than just the situation with Adam Mitchell."
" 'M' fine," he said. "Especially now that the corrupt boy genius is gone." He looked at her and pasted a grin on his face. "See? Smiling. Thanks for asking though."
"You're not fine," she said. "We discovered Adam's scheme because you said you'd met one of the Henrik's managers on your holiday."
"Right," the Doctor said, suddenly finding reason to scrutinize Amy Pond's work history.
"And if I understood correctly," Barbara continued, "you already offered that person a position in our company, but they turned it down."
"Right again." The Doctor put the paper down and opened his desk drawer, rummaging around for a biro pen. He wasn't sure what he needed it for, but he focused all of his attention on the search.
"You changed as a result of your holiday," Barbara said "I thought it was all positive, but in my office earlier, you snapped."
The Doctor set down the pen he had located and lowered his head. "Sorry," he said. "Shouldn't have yelled at you."
"That's alright," Barbara said. "It's understandable given the situation, but you didn't just get angry." She looked toward his office window as if recalling the window in her own office. "For a moment you were lost somewhere else." She paused. The Doctor didn't know if she was waiting for him to interject or just deciding what to say next, but he chose to remain silent and busied himself by straightening the items on his desk.
"It took me a while to put the pieces together, but I think I understand," Barbara said. "Someone broke your heart." She reached forward and tapped the stack of papers on the Doctor's desk. "And one of those files is hers."
As usual, Barbara's intuition was spot on. The Doctor wasn't sure what to do about that. He nodded almost imperceptibly, then looked down, concentrating on the pattern in the wood grain on his desk rather than risk any display of emotion that might come from making eye contact with Barbara. She sat quietly, seemingly unaffected by his prolonged silence. Finally, he took the mobile phone out of his pocket, found the two pictures of he and Rose under the mistletoe (one straight ahead, and one in an awkwardly posed kiss that actually ended up looking pretty nice) and arranged them to be displayed side by side. Then he slid the mobile across the desk for Barbara to see.
"She's beautiful," Barbara commented. "And you both look so happy in this one." Barbra's placed his mobile on the desk. "What happened?" she asked in a soft voice.
The Doctor couldn't tell her, not because he thought it was too personal, but because he wasn't sure he knew the answer. If he had to guess, he would have said that everything had happened too quick and therefore Rose had not felt there was enough of a foundation to build a relationship on. But he was willing to try again if he could only find the right way to reach her.
Perhaps Barbara understood that the question was too difficult to answer, because after a moment she reverted to her original inquiry. "That friend of yours. What's her name?"
The Doctor's thoughts turned to the memory of running hand in hand with a stranger and being so spellbound by her that he introduced himself as the Doctor rather than use his rather generic first name. And then she had told him hers. "Her name is Rose," he said fondly.
Once the Doctor said her name, everything else came tumbling out as well. He told Barbara about his holiday and about Rose, elaborating on his feelings more than he did on the events that took place. He concluded by telling her about their farewell and the feeling of devastation with which he had been left.
"I need to see her again," the Doctor said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Have to tell her what she means to me."
"You do," agreed Barbara. "And I'm going to help you make that happen."
Author's Notes: I keep saying I am not going to apologize, but I had never intended my CHRISTMAS story to be unfinished a week from Valentine's Day! The blame for the delay this time is divided among many reasons. Most fall under "real life," but the one that frustrated me is that this chapter was harder to write than I expected it to be. It was supposed to be a shorter interim and ended up getting longer and longer. And characters just kept having more to say. But eventually I got it done.
The mention of employee records comes courtesy of TiaKisu, who mentioned it in a review to me and I liked the depth that it adds to my original outline. Thank you! Now we just have to see what resources (Facebook, employee records, something else altogether) the Doctor ends up using to contact Rose, and how he goes about it. That is, unless Rose gets to the Doctor first.
The dragon mentioned was a little nod to the creatures in Father's Day.
Almost through! Thanks for sticking with me!
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