Page 18 of People Change

Now

Hoffman Books prides itself on having a ‘speak up’ culture. They require their employees to undertake online training dedicated to it. If you do not do the training within thirty days, you will receive daily reminders urging you to partake. If you don’t do it after three months, they will contact your manager. In the training they show examples of scenarios in which you should speak up if you think something isn’t quite right. Racist colleague? Tell your manager. Sexist boss? Tell HR. It is every employee’s prerogative, and duty, to speak up about goings-on that are morally questionable, and in turn make a change. This is the first time Shirin has done so at Hoffman Books.

Lilian sits across from her in one of the narrow meeting rooms that is angled in the shape of a triangle. Between them is a coffee table that holds both their green teas, and a conference telephone that Lilian is never able to work herself.

The walls are navy and there is a quote in silver from one of Hoffman’s bestselling children’s books that was subsequently turned into a blockbuster film:There is nothing more magical than believing. It is in a whimsical font and is surrounded by stars. She thinks the quote could be applicableto many things, including religion, but the book is about a girl who befriends dragons who carry her around a magical world as she goes on various quests. So, not quite the same.

They have spent the past half an hour rattling through Shirin’s tasks for the week ahead, when Shirin says, ‘I have something I need to speak to you about.’

Lilian looks at her more attentively with those words, closes her notebook and nods. ‘Of course.’

Shirin recounts Sally’s story at the author party. ‘It was racist,’ Shirin says. ‘I’m not sure we should continue publishing her.’

Lilian’s eyebrows draw together and she leans back, looking off to the side. ‘It’s a sad truth that in this industry we won’t always work with people we like. Sally’s books are never problematic – in fact they are very empowering to women – so I don’t think we can, as you say, not publish her any more because of an offhand comment she made at a party. Do you understand?’

‘I just think if we ignore this, it sends the wrong message. We talk a lot about being more inclusive in our publishing and welcoming everyone, so to have an author who openly says the things she does …’

Lilian initially seems taken aback, but then she smiles at Shirin with her teeth. ‘It was an offhand comment, Shirin, by an author in a small group at a party. Please do not think any more of it.’

And that is that.

‘I do have something exciting I’d like you to begin working on, though. There’s a Diversity and Inclusion team beingcreated within the company. As it’s something you’reclearlyinterested in, I thought you’d be keen to be the non-fiction representative, but I obviously wanted to check with you first.’

When Shirin asks Lilian what it would entail, she says Shirin would help the team create a booklet about things to look out for from an editorial perspective, in terms of the language used and essentially how not to be racist (though this is not how she phrases it). This is contradictory to the conversation they’ve just had, but Shirin is defeated and so tells Lilian, ‘Right. Okay, yes, of course.’

She leaves the meeting dejected, with an excess of performative work, on top of her actual work. In reality, it is futile to speak up.

Home Friends

Shirin is on the phone to Phoebe, her friend from back home. Phoebe is married to George, who they both went to school with. They live in a house around the corner from Shirin’s family home and are in the process of adopting a dog. Phoebe’s a social worker, and Shirin thinks she’s her only friend who has her life together – at least in the way everyone thought their lives would look, when they were teenagers imagining their mid-twenties.

It is not that Shirin wants Phoebe’s life – because she doesn’t. Though the ease of Phoebe’s life is something Shirin sometimes envies. While Phoebe owns her house, Shirin shares a rental with three women – Chloe, Anna and Jane – in a block of ex-council flats in Bow. The three women are all in their twenties too, and are relative strangers. Their flat is small, though two-storeyed, and they share one bathroom between them. Sometimes it is like there are seven of them, when their boyfriends are round, and everything is either broken or breaking. The electric shower routinely stops working every six months. Each new shower that is installed is cheap and so is never worth fixing, resulting in a new cheap one being fitted, and thus the cycle continues. The rent isreasonable though, for London. They opt for cheaper rent so they can eat out, buy new clothes, and pretend their home life is less bleak. The landlady, a well-meaning Bangladeshi woman who once lived in the flat with her husband until they separated, responds promptly to their emails when things break, but Shirin senses she is overwhelmed by each email about something new going wrong. It is clear she did not want to be a landlady; this was not her ambition for the flat. It leaves an aura around the building.

Shirin mentions that she has plans to have coffee with Kian, to which Phoebe says, ‘Kian? As in Kian Rahimi from school?’ Before Shirin can reply, Phoebe continues, ‘Hold on, let me stalk him.’ Shirin can tell she has been put on speakerphone while Phoebe looks at his social-media profiles, because her voice is now distant. ‘Why does he have no recent pictures of himself?’

‘It’s annoying, isn’t it?’

‘Very. I sometimes see his parents in Morrisons, you know,’ Phoebe muses. ‘It was so sad when his dad got sick.’

‘Wait, what?’

Phoebe explains that four years ago Kian’s dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and he underwent aggressive chemotherapy. She says that she used to see Kian around Hull a lot more during that time, visiting his dad, and that his mum always looked so tired when she passed her in the supermarket. Shirin forgets how small Hull is sometimes.

‘Is he okay now?’ Shirin asks, thinking of how hard Kian’s family life already was, with everything that happened to his brother.

‘Yeah, last I heard it worked and he’s back to normal now,’ Phoebe says. ‘Anyway, is it a date, your coffee?’

The switch surprises Shirin and she quickly says, ‘What? No. It’s just a friendly thing.’

‘You were always close at school. I always thought you liked him.’

‘Yeah. Ten years ago. And we were only ever friends then, too.’ She is aware she doth protest too much. ‘And we hadn’t spoken since school. Since … you know.’

‘Oh, yeah, since he went psycho, you mean?’

That isn’t how Shirin would phrase it, but perhaps if she hadn’t seen Kian again she would have accepted this version of what happened; perhaps it would be easier to see him that way. Now, one corner of her top lip twitches in irritation. ‘I mean,theywere the psychos, not him,’ she says steadily.

She doesn’t want to say their names, but Phoebe has no such qualms. ‘Jordan, yeah – I will agree with you there. He’s in prison now, did you hear?’