pot plants are very visible, aren’t they? Very obvious. If I bring a load of them into our office, then they will definitely be noticed! And everyone – especially Nolan Reece – will know that it’s me who bought them.
What a fantastic idea!
‘Er . . . I’m just heading out for a while,’ I say to no one in particular. ‘Just have a client . . . a client to go and see.’
Nadia looks up at me and offers me a small smile, before getting her head back down again.
Nobody else seems to care what I’m up to, so I shrug my shoulders and make a beeline for the exit. If I’m about myself, I can get to B&Q, buy a load of pot plants, and get them back here before Nolan comes in after lunch.
Yes, yes!
Off we go then!
Do you have any idea how fucking expensive pot plants are?!
No, neither did I. Not until I got to B&Q.
By the time I left again about half an hour later with my car boot full to bursting, I was a good hundred and fifty quid lighter in the purse.
But it’ll all be worth it. I’m sure of it. Just as soon as I get these bloody expensive things situated around the office – looking all green and leafy, and improving our environment.
If my leaving the office barely registered on anyone’s radar, then the same cannot be said when I re-enter it. Awkwardly carrying a four-foot rubber plant will do that.
‘That’s a nice plant you’ve got there, Ellie,’ Joseph remarks, as I pass the desk he and Amisha are sat at. They’re both working on the new website at the moment, so are probably the only ones having no problem keeping busy.
‘Yes, yes it is,’ I reply, somewhat non-committally.
‘Any reason for bringing it in here?’ Amisha says, the smile trying its hardest to stay off her face.
Joseph and Amisha are unwholesomely clever.
They can see what I’m up to. They can see it quite clearly.
‘Just thought I’d brighten the place up a bit,’ I reply, in a light, breezy tone. ‘Just trying to . . . you know . . . do my bit for team morale.’
‘Ah . . .’ Amisha says. ‘Well, that’s . . . that’s very good of you.’
‘Yes. Yes it is,’ Joseph adds.
‘Indeed. Indeed it is,’ I say, looking in every direction but at them. ‘I’ll just go pop it by the photocopier,’ I tell them, and scuttle away, muttering under my breath. I know when I’m being teased.
The rubber plant goes over in the corner next to the photocopier, where it looks quite lovely.
On my next trip back up from the car – still avoiding Joseph and Amisha’s gaze for all I’m worth – I position several succulents along the windowsills, in what I hope is a pleasing manner. As I do this, Nadia comes over.
‘What you up to, Ellie?’ she asks, all curious.
Oh God. Not her too. Everyone is taking far more interest in my exploits than I’d like. ‘Oh, you know . . . just trying to spruce the place up a bit,’ I tell her in a light voice. ‘Thought the office could do with a little greenery.’
Nadia’s eyes have gone understandably narrow. Before this, my only perceived interest in our office space was how quickly I could get out of it at 5.30 p.m. Much like Joseph and Amisha, she’s finding my new-found interest in pot plants rather suspicious.
‘Hmmm,’ Nadia says.
So as not to engage in further conversation with her about it, I pop the last succulent down and immediately turn around, rushing off to get some more of my green haul before Nadia has the chance to question me further.
I know I’m doing all this out of pure self-interest, and I’m sure most people in the office have deduced the same – but what choice do I have?
That’s my life right now – doing things royally outside my comfort zone, just so I can stay working in this increasingly pot-plant-filled office.
On the next load up from the car, I bring ferns. Many leafy, bouncy ferns.
‘I had a fern once,’ Terry tells me, as I pass him in the kitchen. ‘It died within a week. I think my cat took a shit in the pot.’
‘You think your cat took a shit in the pot?’ I reply, not really wanting to think too much about the cleanliness of someone who can’t tell whether an animal has defecated in their pot or not.