The Jupiter Fund (New Rewrite)

Frozen Out

It was seven twenty five AM, Margery sat at her kitchen bar, dressed in a two piece chocolate brown business suit, the jacket fastened tightly to conceal her torso. Beside her lay her briefcase, an opened copy of The Wallstreet journal and a tablet glowing with business and investments newsfeeds.

The silence broken by the background sound of a morning business breakfast show playing on a forty inch tv held in a wall unit. She checked her watch again. Beside her the remnants of an eaten bowl of muesli accompanied by berries as well as a plate with scraps of eggs and bacon all prepared by her Mexican housekeeper Mariana, a fifty three year old mother of four. Small in stature but big in heart and spirit. She moved quietly around the kitchen, busy preparing fresh coffee for Margery's commute

It had been eight weeks since Myles Morgan stood in the Platinum Bank canteen for the all-staff town hall. His voice had been thick with manufactured emotion as he announced Alan Bigfort’s sudden resignation, effective immediately. The speech had resembled a eulogy, complete with promises to continue Alan’s “great legacy.”

Margery had seen straight through his insincerity.

Now Myles was officially ratified as CEO by the board—apart from her.

An hour after his speech, a letter awaited her on her desk. Signed by Henrietta Fowler-Brown. Too cowardly to deliver in person. Margery was being disciplined for her conduct. Her right to work from home was revoked—not that she ever did. She was suspended from all board activities pending a disciplinary process that was repeatedly delayed.

Then the rumours began.

Carefully seeded. Strategically spread.

They included that Margery’s performance had been so poor, Alan tried to protect her—and paid the price. That she falsified financials and Alan covered for her. That her department missed targets. And, inevitably, that she and Alan had been having an affair.

Her executive assistant, Maria, relayed what was being said on the floor. Margery documented everything.

The stress pressed upon her like a vice, sleep was hard and everything appeared heavy requiring effort. She confided in Alan when she could, careful not to ignite Anne's inquisitive nature. A surprise visit to Arabelle's University dorm ended in an argument, when mentioning her work problems, Arabelle accused her of only visiting to talk about herself.

She considered resigning but then, that would give the rumours some truth and who knows how they would try and ruin her. Alan agreed with her for the moment to stay put.

The electric gate buzzer sounded.

Mariana hurried to answer it, returning moments later. “Max is coming in now.”

Max was her private chauffeur—paid for by Margery herself.

Mariana lifted Margery’s briefcase, fruit snack, and freshly filled coffee beaker despite Margery’s protest that she could do it. Outside waited her SUV: a bullet-silver, two-year-old Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon.

Max opened the rear door. Margery greeted Max with a tired smile and thanked Mariana, wished her a good day, and carefully guided herself into the cream leather seat—plush, supportive, not unlike her office chair.


During breakfast, her work cell phone had denied access to email and internal programs. She tried again. Same result.

Frowning, she retrieved her laptop from the briefcase and entered her credentials, twice with the same result on both occasions.

She exhaled sharply and called IT support; executives had a dedicated line.

“Hello, this is Raymond. Can I have your email address?”

She removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s [e-mail]. I don’t have access to any of my systems.”

“You’ll need to come into the office.”

Her patience now wore thin "I had access up to eleven pm last night, surely it can be fixed remotely?". Again Raymond gave the same responses until she lost patience and hung up.

Next she tried ringing Maria's cellphone which went unanswered. Following this She tried her desk phone, but again the same result. Out of options she placed the cell phone in her black Vera Wong handbag.

She then pulled out a tube of L'Occitane hand moisturiser and worked it into her palms and back of her fleshy hands. They had a softness like baby hands not a symbol of her physical weakness but of a sedentary lifestyle managing business.

Once finished, she clasped her hands together and rested them on her tummy also with a softness earned from the Sedentary demanding corporate lifestyle.

Her nieces and nephews and even her siblings called her squishy aunt Margery. They hug her tightly, sometimes too tightly, joking she was a human pillow, she would reply, I can be your pillow but don't mess with me in business

Her mind raced back 12 years. Saturday evenings as a treat, six year old Arabelle would be allowed stay up until 8.30pm. The three of them including her father would gather in the living room to read a bed time story and and watch a kids movie. Arabelle's head cushioned on Margery's thigh and resting against the warmth of her belly. She wondered if those days of affection would ever return.

From her handbag, the standard dull ringtone of her personal cell phone went off. She fumbled in her bag and examined the caller it stated "Maria personal".

"Hi Maria" Margery began, but Maria cut in, panicked.

“I was called into Fowler-Brown’s office. Told to take the day off. Hand over my laptop and work phone. I was told not to contact you. They said I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Margery closed her eyes as her stomach tightened.

“It’s okay,” she said calmly. “Where are you now?”

"I'm in Sears three blocks from the office, I wanted to go where no one would see me; please don't tell I called you" she pleaded

"Of course not Maria, I appreciate what you have done for me, really helpful"

A pause. Then Maria rushed on. “One more thing. Fowler-Brown unlocked your office and entered with Ted from Facilities who was carrying empty boxes.”

Margery remained calm "Thanks for letting me know Maria, Please don't worry and enjoy your day off and hung up".

Her stomach spun like a washing machine, she clutched her suitcase, as her breathing began to strain from the thoughts of what they may have in store for her, however, she was determined, She wasn't going to be intimidated. She took a sip of her coffee, closed her eyes and began box breathing.