I've Got Your Number

“Of course. He says the same thing. He didn’t send this memo, he’s never seen it before, he’s as baffled as we are.”

“So!” Sam exclaims impatiently. “Head this off! Find the original memo, phone your friend at ITN, tell them they’ve been sold a pup. The IT guys will be able to prove what was written when; they’re good at that stuff—” He breaks off. “What?”

“We’ve tried.” She exhales. “We’ve looked. We can’t find an original version of the memo anywhere.”

“What?’ He stares at her. “But … that’s crazy. Nick must have saved it.”

“They’re searching. Here and at his Berkshire office. So far, this is the only version they’ve managed to find on the system.” She taps the paper.

“Bullshit!” Sam gives an incredulous laugh. “Wait—I have it myself!”

He sits down and opens up a file. “I would have put it …” He clicks a few more times. “Here we are! You see … here it is—” He breaks off, breathing hard. “What the—”

There’s silence. I can hardly breathe.

“No,” expostulates Sam suddenly. “No way. This is not the version I received.” He looks up, his face baffled. “What’s going on? I had it.”

“Not there?” Vicks’s voice is tight with disappointment.

Sam is clicking frantically at his computer again.

“This makes no bloody sense,” he’s saying, almost to himself. “The memo was emailed over. It came to Malcolm and me on the system. I had it. I read it with my own eyes. It has to be here.” He glowers at his screen. “Where the fuck is that fucking email?”

“Did you print it out? Did you keep it? Do you still have that original version?” I can see the hope in Vicks’s eyes.

There’s a long silence.

“No.” Sam exhales. “I read it online. Malcolm?”

“He didn’t print it out either. And he can only find this version on his system. OK.” Vicks sags a little. “Well … we’ll keep trying.”

“It has to be there.” Sam sounds adamant. “If the techies say they can’t find it, they’re wrong. Put more of them on it.”

“They’re all searching. We haven’t told them why, obviously.”

“Well, if we can’t find it, you’ll just have to tell ITN it’s a mystery to us,” says Sam energetically. “We refute it. We make it crystal clear that this memo was never read by me, never written by Nick, has never been seen before by anyone in the company—”

“Sam, it’s on the company system.” Vicks sounds weary. “We can hardly claim that no one in the company has ever seen it. Unless we can find the other memo—” Her phone bleeps with a text, and she glances at it. “That’s Julian from legal. They’re going to go for an injunction, but … ” She gives a hopeless shrug. “Now that Nick’s a government adviser, there’s not much chance.”

Sam is peering at the sheet of paper again, a frown of distaste on his face.

“Who wrote this crap?” he says. “It doesn’t even sound like Nick.”

“God knows.”

I’m so rapt that when my phone buzzes I nearly expire in fright. I glance at the screen and feel another jolt of fright. I can’t stay hiding here. I quickly press talk, and hurry out of the bathroom, my legs wobbly.

“Um, sorry to disturb,” I say awkwardly, and hold out the phone. “Sam, it’s Sir Nicholas for you.”

Vicks’s expression of horror almost makes me want to laugh—except she looks as though she wants to strangle someone. And that someone could be me.

“Who’s she ?” she snaps, eyeing the stain on my T-shirt. “Is this your new PA?”

“No. She’s … ” Sam waves it off. “Long story. Nick!” he exclaims into the receiver. “I’ve just heard. Jesus.”

“Did you hear any of that?” says Vicks to me in a savage undertone.

“No! I mean, yes. A bit.” I’m gabbling in fright. “But I wasn’t listening. I didn’t hear anything. I was brushing my hair. Really hard.”

“OK. I’ll be in touch. Keep us posted.” Sam switches off the phone and shakes his head. “When the hell will he learn to use the right number? Sorry.”

Distractedly, he puts the phone down on the desk. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to speak to the techies myself. If they can’t find a lost email, for fuck’s sake, they should all be fired. They should be fired anyway. They’re useless.”