"Well, of course in a certain sense all work is prostitution," said Mowley after Bernice and Janice returned from lunch, the latter having decided that she owed an explanation to the team after what had happened.
Bernice's heart sank: this was probably not the best way to comfort Janice at the moment, she thought.
"Dave -..." she said. But she had underestimated Janice's strength.
"No, it's all right, Bernice," said Janice, glad that they could talk about it openly. "Go on, Dave, I'd like to hear what you have to say."
"Well," said Dave, "the essence of all work is that you are paid to do something, to be somewhere, that someone else decides. You might be using your body in manual labour, your mind in mental activity, or whatever, but it's all the same: someone has power over you for a certain period, and has bought your life for that time. Prostitution is just another version of this where somebody buys time with your body rather more directly. In fact it's just hypocrisy on society's part that it treats prostitutes as some kind of social leper: if anyone is worthy of blame it is the person who uses prostitutes - literally uses them as mere objects. The person used is at worst no different from other workers, and is actually being abused quite seriously and hence worthy of our sympathy, not our censure."
"Here, here," said Yasmeen.
"Absolutely," said Chris who had never looked at it from this viewpoint before, but now that Dave mentioned it, could see that he was absolutely right. Except that he also seemed to be saying that they were all prostitutes in some sense, which was not quite the image he had of himself. George was rather shocked by all this talk of prostitutes in front of the young women and after harrumphing pointedly, tried to get on with some work.
Pete had been on the phone during Dave's lecture, and had been whispering very secretively. Insofar as she gave it any thought, she presumed it was some sweet nothing to Piggy-Wiggy. And when Pete asked whether he could have the next morning off she assumed that this too was something to do with his family, and naturally assented as she had done a couple of weeks before when he'd asked for a day off. Making these various false assumptions, she was therefore completely bowled over by the surprise he had in store for her the following week.
Pete had asked to have a 'private word' with her; he looked even more serious than usual, if that was possible, perhaps because the incipient cold had now turned into a full-blown stinker. Bernice always felt in a quandary when it came to office diseases: sending people home only increased the workload and stress on everyone else which often lowered their resistance to infection, while keeping them in the office only spread the germs further and magnified the problem. Already she could feel that sharp, sour sensation in the back of her throat she had when there was something nasty floating around, and she wondered how long it would be before she or someone else went down with this year's vintage.
They went up to the coffee lounge, largely deserted at that time of day, where Pete said that he was having serious financial problems, what with the full-time nanny they had taken on since Elaine had been too weak to look after their three children. Bernice had guessed that this might be what was coming, and said that she was fully sympathetic to his case, but that she could only recommend to Martin who would make the final decision. She said she would send him a note explaining the situation and asking him to agree to a rise. She was a little put out when Pete insisted that things were more urgent than that, and that he needed an answer immediately. Mystified as to why he was in such a hurry, she suggested that they should go to see Martin together as soon as he was free. Pete seemed satisfied with this idea.
Martin had a 30-minute 'window' in his diary coming up shortly, according to Cristina, so they waited and then went along to the North block at the appropriate time. There Bernice explained the background and why they had come together. Martin was not impressed.
"I do appreciate the circumstances," he said, "but the salary is paid on the basis of the job and the person, not according to external pressures. And you did get quite a considerable bonus recently I seem to recall," he said, a little tired of people's constant demand for more money.
"So are you saying that there is no hope of a rise in the immediate future?" said Pete, his voice trembling slightly as if a lot hung on Martin's answer.
"To be frank, no," he said, hoping that this would be the end of the matter.
"In that case," said Pete, his hand reaching inside his jacket pocket, "I'm afraid I'll have to give you this." He passed one of the company envelopes with 'Highly Confidential' stamped across it.
"What's this?" asked Martin as if he had never seen an envelope before. Bernice closed her eyes and shook her head in anticipation of what was coming.
"It's, it's my formal letter of resignation," he said, almost desperate.
"Come on, Pete, don't do anything rash. Where are you going to get another job like the present one from?" said Martin, hoping to quash such gestures with a dose of cold realism.
"I've just been offered a post which I shall now accept," he said with simple dignity.
"Which?" Bernice and Martin asked simultaneously.
"I've been asked to take on the Launch Editorship of New Business," he said with a certain sad satisfaction.
"What?!?" said Bernice and Martin, again simultaneously. So that was where he had gone during his days off, Bernice thought. Why you? she wanted to ask, but then reproached herself for this ungenerous thought.
"Peter," said Martin, "think hard about this one. I don't know now much you know about Morgan-Banacek - "
"They seem to think big - they've said that they'll fly me and my family to New York for discussions about the launch," Pete retorted, very unwilling to have his decision picked apart, "they have great plans for the title - "
"Yes, yes, so they say, but look at their track record." Martin had a certain advantage over Pete in that he knew far more about the facts of the company, whereas Pete had heard only propaganda. "They have a very definite philosophy: launch hard, test fast, and pull out immediately if it's not working. They're famous for their revolving door employment policy. You don't know what you're getting into, Pete, the insecurity - "
This was the right and wrong button to press. Insecurity was what Pete feared more than anything, but he had his pride. He knew that what he was doing was desperately risky, and he knew that they knew he knew: but he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him run whining away from this challenge.
"You're wrong," he said, suddenly feeling the giddy power of one who has thrown caution to the winds and thus has nothing to lose. "I'll show you. You've never believed in me, any of you; this is my chance, don't you see?"
Bernice did. "We understand," she said before Martin could reply. "We do believe in you, and do understand why this offer is so, so flattering, but what Martin says is true: no matter how good a job you do they may decide for whatever reason not to go on. Then where will you be?"
"We'll see," said Pete, not wanting to discuss this anymore.
"OK, Pete, if this is what you want to do. You realise of course that you will have to leave this afternoon - " said Martin wearily.
"Martin, there's no need to be bloody-minded about it," said Bernice.
"I'm not. Think about it: having the future editor of a competitive title sitting in on all our meetings. The alternative is to shut him in some end of corridor room without a telephone filing six-year old invoices."
Bernice knew that this was true. She also knew that Pete had already sat in on one rather vital meeting, but didn't feel that now was the time to tell Martin about it.
"It's all right, Bernice, thanks, I'll go. But can I please explain to the team why I'm leaving today - that I'm not being booted out?"
"Sure," said Bernice, not waiting for Martin to reply.
"I'll arrange for Personnel to tie up loose ends - holidays, pensions etc etc." Martin wanted this over now; he hated these partings, it was the antithesis of everything he loved about being publisher - the beginnings, the creation of something fresh with new people.
On the way down to the office, Pete turned to Bernice and said:
"I'm really sorry about this, I wish it hadn't happened."
"Don't worry, Pete, that's the way these things go," she said.
"Look, there's one thing I want you to know: those things we talked about at the meeting last week, you have my word as a professional that I'll say nothing about them over there. I feel I owe that to the team, at least," he said with pride.
"Thanks, Pete," Bernice said, hoping that he meant it, and believing that he did. She felt very divided over his move. On the one hand it was a kind of betrayal of everything she had been working to create on The Business: a team, a spirit, a successful magazine. On the other she felt a loyalty to Pete which transcended that of work. She knew he needed the money that Morgan-Banacek were probably offering - she felt tempted for a moment to ask him just how much they would be paying - and felt that she had no right to stand in his way. And yet she had a foreboding about his move: Martin's comments were all-too true as far as past form was concerned. Flights to New York notwithstanding, she knew that Morgan-Banacek would have no compunction in dumping the magazine and Pete if they decided for any reason it was not working.
Back in the office the announcement from Bernice with Pete standing beside her was met with shocked silence. Kate and Terence had just come back from the typesetters after finishing the production for the March issue. They were unpacking all of the envelopes containing the copy, galleys, proofs and such like. Though Pete had not formed any close friendships in the office, his honest, workmanlike approach had been appreciated, especially by production. George was taken aback by this departure which he saw as a bad sign - and anyway, he hated such shocks and surprises; Dave shook his head, but whether because it was a bad move for the magazine or for Pete wasn't clear. Chris seemed simply bemused, unprepared for this kind of drama. Janice was genuinely sad, while Bernice noted that Yasmeen seemed quite unmoved. Perhaps she's just good at hiding her feelings, Bernice thought.
And so Pete gathered up his possessions from his desk, phoned Piggy-Wiggy for one last time to tell her that he would be home early that afternoon, and telling her not to worry, he would explain everything when he got home, said goodbye to everyone, shaking hands with the men, shyly kissing the women, and walked out of the door, and out of the magazine.
With him, so Bernice felt, was departing a kind of naiveté about the world of publishing that the team had so far had. Now the first blood had been drawn, and they were more aware of what was at stake. The business had suddenly become serious, and they realised that people - maybe them - were going to get hurt in the ensuing battles. Perhaps Pete's departure was inevitable, like adolescents leaving home, a sign that they were growing up from their collective infancy. People moved on, people grew, the magazine changed. Thus was it always. Bernice just wondered what other formative experiences awaited them in the run-up to the launch of what must now be thought of as Pete's journal.
