Grandma, youre in the wrong department, the young staff chuckled, eyeing the fresh recruit. They had no idea Id just bought the whole firm.
Who are you talking to? the lad at the reception asked, eyes glued to his smartphone.
His trendy haircut and logobranded hoodie shouted Im important while ignoring everyone else in the room.
Poppy Hart adjusted her simple but sturdy messenger bag. Shed dressed deliberately lowkey: a modest blouse, a kneelength skirt, sensible flatsnothing to draw attention.
The previous managing director, Gregorya greying, weary man worn out by office intriguehad just signed off on the sale. He gave a respectful smile as she laid out her plan.
A Trojan horse, Miss Hart, he said. Theyll bite the bait without seeing the hook. They wont figure you out until its too late.
Im the new documentation clerk, she replied, her voice calm, deliberately stripped of any hint of authority.
At last the young man looked up. He scanned her from head to toewellworn shoes to neatly combed grey hairand a thin, openmouthed grin flickered across his face. He made no effort to hide it.
Oh right, they said thered be a new hire. Got the security pass?
Yes, here you go.
He lazily jabbed a finger toward the turnstile as if pointing a lost compass.
Your desk is somewhere down the hall. Youll find it.
Poppy nodded. Ill manage, she thought, marching toward the hivelike openplan.
Shed been untangling life for forty yearsturning a nearbankrupt business left by her late husband into a profitable venture, juggling complex investments that later swelled her capital, and surviving the loneliness of a huge empty house at sixtyfive. Buying this thriving yet, in her gut, decaying IT company was the most interesting unraveling shed tackled lately.
Her workstation sat at the far end, next to the archive door. An old, scratched desk with a squeaky chair, it looked like an island of the past in a sea of shiny tech.
Settling in okay? a sweet, syrupy voice called over her shoulder. It was Gwendolyn Blythe, head of marketing, immaculate in an ivorycoloured suit, reeking of expensive perfume and success.
Im trying, Poppy smiled softly.
Youll need to sort the contracts for Project Altair from last year. Theyre in the archive. Shouldnt be too hard, Gwendolyn said, her tone patronising as if assigning a task to someone with limited abilities.
Gwendolyn gave her a look the way one might regard a fascinating fossil. As she left, her heels clicking, a quiet chuckleaved behind her:
Our HRs completely lost it. Soon well be hiring dinosaurs.
Poppy pretended not to hear, but she needed to look around.
She headed for development, pausing by a glass meeting room where a few youngsters were heatedly discussing something.
Miss, looking for something? a tall bloke called out as he rose from his desk.
Stanley, the lead developer and selfproclaimed future star of the company, turned to his colleagues who were watching the scene like it was free entertainment.
Just the archive, thank you, Poppy replied.
Stanley grinned and gestured vaguely toward her desk.
Grandma, you seem to belong in a different department. The archives over there, he waved, while were doing real workstuff youve never even dreamed of.
A quiet murmur rippled through the crowd. Poppy felt a cold, steady anger rise in her chest. She stared at their smug faces, at Stanleys pricey watcheverything bought with her money.
Thanks, she said evenly. Now I know exactly where Im headed.
The archive turned out to be a cramped, windowless room. Poppy set to work and soon found the Altair folder.
She methodically Pored over the paperscontracts, annexes, certificates. At first glance everything seemed perfect, but her seasoned eye snagged on the details. Figures in the contractors invoices for CyberSystems were rounded to whole thousandseither laziness or a coverup.
The descriptions of the work were vague: consultancy services, analytical support, process optimisation. Classic moneylaundering phrasing shed seen back in the nineties.
A few hours later a nervous girl appeared in the doorway.
Good morning. Im Lucy from accounts. Gwendolyn said you might need help youre probably struggling without access to the digital system? she asked, tone free of any superiority.
Thanks, Lucy. That would be very kind.
No problem. Its just that well not everyone was born with a tablet in their hands, Lucy blushed, trying to explain the software.
While Lucy was walking him through the interface, Poppy thought even a swamp could hide a clean spring.
Before Lucy could leave, Stanley burst back in.
I need the CyberSystems contract, ASAP, he demanded, as if issuing an order.
Good morning, Poppy replied calmly. Im just reviewing those documents. Give me a minute.
A minute? I dont have a minute. I have a call in five. Why isnt this digitised yet? What on earth do you all do here?
His arrogance was his Achilles heel. He was sure no oneleast of all an old womancould challenge his work.
Its my first day, Poppy said evenly. Im trying to fix what wasnt done before I arrived.
I dont care! he snapped, snatching the needed file from the desk. You old lot are always a problem.
He stormed out, slamming the door. Poppy didnt follow. Shed seen enough.
She pulled out her phone and dialled her personal solicitor.
Arthur, good afternoon. Could you check a company for me? CyberSystems. I have a feeling the owners are interesting.
The next morning her phone buzzed.
Poppy, you were right. CyberSystems is a shell. Its registered to a certain MrPetrov, who, incidentally, is the cousin of our lead developer Stanley. Classic scheme.
Thanks, Arthur. Thats all I needed to know.
The climax arrived after lunch. All staff were summoned for the weekly meeting. The room filled with the hum of the airconditioning and the occasional chuckle.
Gwendolyn beamed, announcing the latest achievements.
Oh dear, I forgot to print the conversion report. Poppy, her micamplified voice dripped with a cold smile, please fetch the Q4 folder from the archive. And try not to get lost.
A low murmur of amusement rippled through the hall. Poppy rose calmly. The point of no return had been passed. She returned a few minutes later, finding Stanley whispering with Gwendolyn.
Heres our saviour! Stanley declared with forced warmth. We need to work faster. Time is money. Especially our money.
The word our was the final drop.
Poppy straightened, shedding any hint of slump. Her gaze turned icy and unyielding.
Youre right, Stanley. Time really is money. Especially the kind thats been siphoned through CyberSystems. Doesnt it seem this project benefits you more than the company?
Stanleys face fell, his smile vanished.
I I dont quite follow, he stammered.
Really? Then perhaps you could explain to everyone here who this MrPetrov fellow isthatyou?
A heavy silence settled. Gwendolyn tried to intervene.
Excuse me, what relevance does this employee have to the firms finances?
Poppy didnt even glance at her. She walked slowly around the table and took the floor.
I have a direct relevance. Allow me to introduce myself: Poppy Hart, new owner of this company.
If a grenade had exploded in the room, the effect would have been milder.
Stanley, she continued, voice as cold as ice, you are dismissed. My lawyers will be in touch with you and your relative. Id advise you not to leave the city just yet.
Stanley sank back into his chair as if a weight had been lifted.
You, Gwendolyn, are also terminatedfor professional incompetence and for fostering a toxic environment.
Gwendolyns face flushed. How dare you!
I have every right, Poppy replied succinctly. You have one hour to collect your things. Security will escort you out.
The same applied to anyone who thinks age is an excuse for disrespect. The receptionist and two developers were also shown the door.
A genuine shock rippled through the office.
Over the coming days well undergo afull audit, Poppy announced.
Her eyes landed on Lucy, standing at the back of the room.
Lucy, could you come up here, please?
The trembling girl approached.
In just two days youve become the only one to show not just professionalism but plain humanity.
Im forming a new internalcontrols department and Id like you to join my team. Well discuss your new role and training tomorrow.
Lucy opened her mouth, speechless.
Youll manage, Poppy said confidently. And now, everyone elseexcept those whove been let goback to work. The days not over yet.
She turned and walked out, leaving behind the shattered veneer of superiority.
She felt no triumph, only a cool satisfactionlike finishing a job well done. To rebuild a sturdy house, you first have to clear the rotten foundation.
And that, dear reader, was just the beginning of her grand cleanup.
