The New Girl: An addictive and gripping psychological thriller

  The New Girl

  M. I. Hattersley

  Dark Corridor Books

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  1

  The large steel and glass building at the Marble Arch end of London’s famous Oxford Street was certainly impressive. But as Jade Fisher’s gaze wandered up the glass façade, up towards the third floor, an icy shudder ran down her back. So, perhaps impressive was the wrong word. Imposing was nearer the mark. Ominous, even. Yet she also knew that the head office of Beautiful You! Incorporated was no more scary-looking a place than the Tres Chic offices in Manhattan, where she’d spent the last six years. So maybe it wasn’t the building that was making her stomach flutter and sending her mind down dark and unhelpful passageways of thought. Because she also knew what was inside the building. She knew what it represented. And what she was here to do.

  Lifting her phone from where she had it clasped to her chest, she could see it was almost nine. Time to get in there. Pushing through the large glass door she found herself in an expansive lobby area made entirely of white marble with the steel doors of an elevator (lift, now she was back in England) on the back wall, next to a high reception desk. To her immediate left was a waiting area, comprising two white-leather sofas and a round coffee table, on top of which was a stack of the new Beautiful You! magazine. Beyond the seating area stood a strange futuristic-looking device that she only knew was a water cooler because they’d had the same one in New York. Large plants had been distributed around the perimeter of the space, each one taller than her and with leaves bigger than her head.

  As the main door sucked closed behind her, she walked across the space, her new Prada sling-back kitten heels click-clacking across the hard marble floor and announcing her arrival to the smiley young woman on the desk.

  “Good morning,” the woman said. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, hi there. My name’s Jade Fisher. I’m starting here today. As the new intern.”

  The woman’s smile faltered for a second, but she caught herself just as quickly and flashed her eyes at Jade. She was attractive, with sparkling green eyes and thick, wavy hair dyed dark copper. “Of course,” she replied. “If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat, I’ll let Marsha know you’re here.”

  “Thank you,” Jade said, click-clacking over to the waiting area where she perched on the edge of the nearest sofa, facing the lift.

  Marsha was head of HR here at Beautiful You! and had interviewed Jade for the position via Zoom. Jade had still been in New York at the time and what with the time difference and a pesky delay on the line, she’d worried she hadn’t presented herself that well. Yet two months later, here she was. Back in London, her hometown, scared and uncertain and slightly discombobulated, but ready to do whatever she had to do to make this work.

  In front of her, the lift doors slid open and a slim, bordering on skinny, woman with jet-black hair cut into a sharp bob stepped out. Marsha. She was taller than Jade had imagined and more angular than she appeared on the internet. But even if Jade didn’t know she was head of HR, she’d have guessed it. There was something about the way she held herself, the tension in her jaw. It was like she was carrying the entire weight of the world on her shoulders. This, despite being painfully aware that no one in her charge cared one jot about the things that concerned her. That was probably the life of any Human Resources officer in any company. But Beautiful You! - and similarly Tres Chic - were companies run by mavericks and fashionistas, dreamers and artists. These were people who didn’t concern themselves with protocol and policies.

  “Jade,” Marsha cooed as she got closer. “So good to see you again. Did you find us okay?”

  Jade got to her feet. “Yes, no problem. I used to work on Oxford Street when I was a teenager – a shop assistant at Miss Selfridge. I’d walk past this building every day on my way home.”

  Marsha pulled her face. “We all have to start somewhere, I suppose.”

  “Absolutely,” Jade replied, not sure if it was the correct response. Her insides were churning, and she wondered if Marsha could tell how nervous she was.

  She breathed in deeply through her nose, filling her lungs and holding it there for a few seconds before exhaling. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t nervy. She was forthright and confident. The same girl who’d upped sticks and moved to New York City on her own at just twenty-six, landing a job as a fashion assistant at one of the newest and most influential wellness and lifestyle brands in America.

  But there was more riding on this job.

  The stakes were higher.

  “Do you want to follow me?” Marsha said. “I’ll show you around and you can get settled in.”

  She led Jade over to the lift, which was still on the ground floor. The doors glided open without a sound and Marsha gestured for Jade to enter first, stepping in behind her and pressing the button for the third floor. Her nails were perfectly manicured, with exquisite French tips and Jade made a mental note to book herself in to get her own done as soon as possible. It was important to look one's best. To fit in.

  “I’m afraid it’s a bit of a madhouse around here at the moment,” Marsha said, as they stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the numbers above the door illuminate in turn. “We’ve got assignments coming out of our ears and with the recent launch of the magazine, we’re still chasing our tails, as it were.” As she spoke, Jade detected a hint of a Birmingham accent in her voice, which she hadn’t noticed before.

  “That’s fine,” Jade replied. “I like to be busy. I like to be amongst the action.”

  “Good, because there's going to be a lot of that over the coming weeks. I'm not one hundred percent sure what you'll be working on initially, but I'm sure Rebecca will have something she needs you to do. Pronto.”

  At the name, Jade stiffened. “Is Rebecca in the office today?”

  The lift shuddered as they reached their destination and came to a gentle stop. “Not yet,” Marsha said. “But she’s expected at some point. Are you keen to meet her?”

  Jade gasped. “Well, you know, Rebecca Burton-Webb. The Rebecca Burton-Webb. I still can’t believe I’m going to be working for her.”

  As the lift doors opened, they revealed a wide landing with polished hardwood floors that stretched out in front of them towards a glass-fronted office space. The walls were white with prints running down each side, displaying some of the most iconic items from the Beautiful You! range over the years. The famous bamboo-cotton overshirt, the crocodile-effect hessian tote bag, the yak’s milk candle. As they got up to the glass doors of the office the last picture showed the front cover of issue one of Beautiful You! magazine. The company’s most recent venture.

  “Well, believe it,” Marsha said, snaking her long fingers around the door handle. “You’ve earned your place here, and I think you’re going to fit in perfectly.”

  She opened the office door, releasing a dull hum of noise as she did. The open-plan room was immense, taking up at least two-thirds of the building’s footprint. Glass panels, floor-to-ceiling, spanned both sides of the space and at the far end, one corner was partitioned off by more glass. Desks had been placed around the room at right angles to each other, each with the most recent model of iMac sitting on top. Most of the staff had yet to arrive, but those already in were young and
beautiful. They were mainly women, but Jade noticed one or two men, equally beautiful. Most were sitting around talking or leaning into their screens, symmetrical features twisted slightly as they concentrated on whatever they were working on.

  “Well, this is it,” Marsha said, raising her arms dramatically. “Beautiful You! in all its rebellious, ramshackle glory.” She turned back to Jade and tilted her head to one side. “What do you think?”

  Jade smiled. “I think it’s wonderful,” she replied. “I can’t wait to get started.”

  And despite her trepidation, despite the nerves tickling at her throat, she was telling the truth. She’d been waiting a long time for this moment. After months of planning and preparation, of doubts and fears and second-guessing herself, she was finally here. She was going to meet Rebecca Burton-Webb. What’s more, she was going to be working for her.

  2

  The air in the room was cool and stale as if no one had been in the space for some time. Despite this, Jade made herself comfortable, settling in the middle row of the company's small in-house cinema to take in the short film Marsha had tasked her with watching. The film told the story of Beautiful You! and its founder, Rebecca Burton-Webb, from her humble beginnings in Brixton to becoming the influential and respected figure she was today, worth well over sixty-seven million dollars. The screen showed Rebecca as a young woman of twenty-nine, the age she was when she first started the company. She looked so vibrant and full of energy, laughing with Richard Branson at some industry party in the early nineties before the film shifted to footage of her meeting the Queen and getting her OBE.

  To watch the promo film, you would think Rebecca had single-handedly built the company from nothing. But Jade knew the unofficial story behind Beautiful You! which was very different from the one presented here. She knew there were other people involved in the inception of the company. Yet, much like the photos of the beautiful models in the window displays of their one hundred and forty-three stores across the world, or in the pages of the new magazine, the narrative had been airbrushed to paint Rebecca as the sole founder. The brains, brawn and power behind the brand. But why wouldn’t it? She was the last woman standing. History wasn’t recorded by those who the conquerors stepped on to get to the top.

  The film told how Rebecca had been blessed with both a business head and a creative soul. She was a dreamer, but also a doer. As a child of the eighties, she’d been a regular at The Wag Club and was already making her own clothes and accessories when she enrolled to study fashion at Saint Martins. It was here that she had a revelation, that the next big movement had to be in direct contrast to everything going on around her. After leaving university with a 2:1 honours degree in Fashion Design with Marketing, she spent the next 4 years focusing all her efforts in setting up Beautiful You! Her vision for the company then was the same as today. To be pure, ethical, ecologically sound. An antithesis to the extravagance of the eighties.

  She opened her first store on a side street in Covent Garden in ninety-eighty-nine and Beautiful You! was an instant success. It was the first of its kind, a clothing and lifestyle brand, specialising in ethically sourced eco-friendly products: bamboo clothing; eco-friendly cosmetics and homeware; naturally sourced vitamins and supplements. The film ended by talking about the brand's vision for the future - to embrace and revolutionise the health and wellness industry. To this end, there was the new magazine, plus mindfulness and productivity apps and a new website planned for the new year.

  The film finished with a message from Rebecca herself, looking straight down the camera lens and welcoming her to the Beautiful You! family.

  “Glad to be here,” she replied under her breath, then sat upright as the lights flickered on.

  She glanced around, wondering what she should do. Marsha had said she’d return before the end of the film. Getting to her feet, Jade headed for the door. It swung open before she got there.

  “Shit. Sorry,” Marsha said, as Jade jumped back. “I got waylaid. Are you all right? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “No. It’s fine. I’m just a bit anxious this morning. First day in the new job and all that.”

  Marsha raised her eyebrows. “I’ve just heard Rebecca is coming in this morning at some stage, so you’ll meet her sooner rather than later. Don’t worry, she’s a pussycat. Most of the time.”

  Jade nodded, surreptitiously rubbing her palms on the side of her blazer.

  “How did you find the film?” Marsha asked.

  “Great. She’s quite a woman. I did know most of the story.”

  “Oh, good. It pays to be well-informed, doesn’t it?”

  “I’ve always thought so.”

  Jade smiled, and Marsha did too, but an awkwardness bristled in the air between them.

  “Why don’t I show you around?” Marsha said, spinning on her heels. “Follow me.”

  Jade trailed along in Marsha’s wake as she paraded through the large office space pointing out areas of interest – the kitchen, the ‘chill out’ zone, the mindfulness and meditation room. These were all things Jade had expected to find here, but it was still rather impressive and if things were different, she’d have been excited to be working in such a positive and forward-thinking environment. As it was, she still had a flutter in her belly and was doing her best to ignore the nagging voice telling her she was going to be found out at any moment.

  “We’ll set you up here for now,” Marsha said, stopping next to a bank of four desks, three of which were already occupied. Two women in their mid-twenties and an extremely good-looking black man looked up from their computer screens. “Meet Thomas, Lauren and Anita. They’re our junior designers here at Beautiful You! Guys, this is Jade. She’s the new intern. Will you make her feel welcome?”

  “Erm, of course we will,” Thomas exclaimed, holding his hand to his chest dramatically. He met Jade’s gaze and winked. “Good to meet you, sweetie. I love that top, by the way. Where’s it from?”

  Jade tugged at the front of the silk button-down shirt. “It’s a Gabriela Hearst,” she said. “I picked it up from Bergdorf Goodman last fall.”

  “Last fall, hey?” Thomas frowned, perhaps working out whether she was as pretentious as she sounded.

  Jade realised what she'd said and tutted. “Sorry. Habits. I mean last autumn. I’ve been working in New York for the last six years. I’ve only just got back to the UK.”

  She was still going in strong with this statement. But her boldness seemed to pay off as Thomas and the two women glanced at each other and then looked back at her with impressed expressions.

  “Wow! Humble brag much?” Thomas said, but there was warmth in his voice. “I bloody love it. You’ll fit in here.”

  The two women chuckled and Marsha placed her hand on the small of Jade’s back, guiding her towards the empty desk. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted,” she whispered. “Jade, I am going to need some paperwork from you, but that can wait until later.”

  Not for the first time that morning, Jade tensed. “Yes. Sure,” she said. “No problem.”

  “And once Rebecca arrives, I’ll come and get you and introduce you. Don’t be worried.” She wandered off, and Jade watched her go before turning back to find the trio staring at her. Pulling the chair out, she sat and hunched up her shoulders.

  “Nice to meet you all,” she said, waving a finger between the two women. “Sorry, can you remind me again which one is Lauren and which is Anita?”

  “I’m Lauren and that’s Anita,” the blonde-haired one said. “Don’t worry, we’re very different, so you won’t get mixed up.”

  “Yeah, I’m nice and she’s a vicious slut,” Anita cut in.

  “How dare you!” Lauren hissed. “Vicious slut indeed! A hot mess, yeah. But I’m not vicious. Jesus!”

  They all laughed, and Jade did too, despite it being the last thing she felt like doing. But hot mess was probably a decent description. Lauren’s full lips were thick with what Jade presumed to be the company’s f
amous Heartbreak Red lipstick, and her balayage hair looked like it hadn’t seen a hairbrush this side of the pandemic. But she was beautiful all the same, with a faint smattering of freckles across her face. She caught Jade taking her in and wrinkled her nose at her.

  “So, what brings you back to the UK?” Anita asked. “It sounds like you were doing all right in New York if you can afford Gabriela Hearst tops.” Anita, too, was beautiful. She looked to have East Asian blood somewhere in her lineage. Her straight black hair was styled in a short pixie cut and her eyes were so dark you couldn’t see where the iris ended and the pupil began. A silver ring through her septum finished the look, giving her an air of alternative beauty. The goth diva, to Lauren’s party girl chic.

  “It was in the sale,” Jade said, clawing back her initial boast. “And it’s the only piece of hers that I own. But I like it.” It was a black shirt with white flowers, and she’d picked it out especially for today. She hoped it might empower her. “And in answer to your other question, I suppose I missed London. New York is great, as I’m sure you know. But you can’t beat home, can you?”

  Lauren snorted at this. “What were you doing over there?”

  “I was a fashion assistant at Tres Chic magazine.”

  The words practically fell onto the desk in front of her with a thud. Thomas, Anita and Lauren exchanged more glances. “And you came back here to work as an intern?” Anita asked. “Why?”

  Jade swallowed as conflicting emotions fought for independence in her psyche. Guilt was one factor in her decision, but it wasn’t the primary driver and, even if it was, she couldn’t tell them that. She certainly couldn’t tell them the actual reason.

  “I wanted a change,” she said. “I loved working for a fashion magazine, but even one as cutting-edge as Tres Chic can be a bit soulless after a while. I wanted to work somewhere more in line with my ethos and beliefs.”