The Newcomer

Listen, love, Ive got to tell you about the new girl at the firm its a proper laugh. So, right at the start, the bosstype secretary, Mrs. Thompson, plops down in her swivel chair and greets the fresh recruit. Youve got cleaning on your todo list as part of the job. And what, youre an accountant? If you dont like it, hand in your contract and be gone. Youre brandnew, so buckle up. Thanks for taking the role and the £28,000 salary with zero experience!

Mrs. Thompson gives the newcomer a triumphant look, already convinced she wont last long. The girl, Poppy, whispers, How often do we have to tidy up? The secretary beams, All right, Ill show you around, introduce you to the team. Poppy tentatively follows the tall woman into the next wing. The door swings open onto a huge openplan office split into tiny cubicles, each with someone hunched over a screen.

Ladies, this is Poppy, the new girl, Mrs. Thompson announces. Girls, this is Poppy! Ten pairs of eyes swivel to her. An awkward silence hangs, so Poppy forces a smile and says hello. The girls murmur among themselves.

Oh, wonderful that weve got a new face, one says, the office has been a mess for ages.
Thats great, but shell be sitting next to me, so Ill have to endure the clacking of keys, the shouting and maybe the whimpering, replies another.
Fine by me, youve finally stepped out of your comfort zone, says a third.
And we used to hear only your cries and shouts, adds a fourth, now youll be on our side.

Mrs. Thompson chimes, Alright, quiet, ladies. Poppy, heres your desk in the corner. On the computer youll find a folder called Guidelines and Tasks. Read, learn, memorise. If you need help, ask Barbara the redhaired firecracker. Got it? Poppy nods, and the secretary departs. The girls dive back into their screens, while Barbara, the ginger whirlwind, eyes Poppy.

You look like my younger sister, Barbara says smugly, so youll have a leg up with me. Just dont make any stupid or rude mistakes and well get along. Right, Poppy, start work. Ill pop over at lunch with any questions. No distractions until then, agreed? Poppy settles into her chair, taking in the setup: a small desk with paper trays, a cup of pens and markers, a monitor, mouse pad, mouse, a trash bin, and a wilted aloe plant in a cracked pot. It instantly reminded her of her grans kitchen where shed grow aloe for its juice.

She whispers, A pharmacy in a pot why does no one look after it? Itll die soon enough. She adjusts, noticing everyone fully immersed in their tasks, fingers tapping keys, calculators beeping, pens scrawling, occasional sighs when numbers dont add up.

Poppy isnt thrilled. Fresh out of university with a shiny firstclass degree, shes clueless about realworld accounting, but the firm promises solid experience and a decent £28k starter salary. She cant wait for the lunch break when Barbara will answer all her questions.

When the break finally arrives, Barbara leans back, sighs, Thats it, Im brainfried. Lets take a breather. By the way, that palm over there
Its an aloe, Poppy corrects.
Right, aloe. I know it! Its from our legendary numbers guru, Vera Palmer. She was a topnotch accountant, the kind who made tax inspectors weep. She left us a centuryold aloe when she retired, saying it held some secret strength. Everyone adored her, and the plant became a sort of office talisman.
Poppy asks quietly, Are you taking her place?
Barbara laughs, Nope, Im not even close. She had more experience than I have years. Shes retired now, we threw a little office do to send her off, gave her gifts, and she left the aloe with us. She never wanted it taken home, so it sits here. You can keep it on your desk, water it, or chuck it in the bin its up to you.

Poppy looks at the twisted stalk, realizing its probably ten years old, maybe older. Shes been at the desk for almost a month now, often arriving an hour early to sweep the floors, mop the entrance, and tidy the directors office all while juggling the bookkeeping tasks. The high salary was clearly meant to cover both the accounting and the cleaning.

Shes determined to prove herself, hoping the extra cleaning will be dropped once she shows shes a valuable accountant. She stays late, poring over spreadsheets, but shes still a rookie with no clientfacing practice, so progress is slow. Still, shes optimistic.

Then a nasty autumn cold hits. Her head pounds, throat throbs, and she cant dash to the pharmacy before lunch because the office still needs tidying. The unfinished tasks glow red on her screen, and she cant focus. She eyes the wilted aloe, thinking maybe it can help, and bites a fleshy leaf. The taste is odd, but after chewing slowly she feels a little better, and half an hour later shes on the mend.

Barbara returns, eyes the documents, Seriously? All done? No errors? she says, impressed. She hands Poppy a fresh batch of assignments, and Poppy, without noticing, takes on even more work. She calls Barbara over again to doublecheck.

Honestly, how did you crunch those tables so fast? Poppy asks.
Barbara leans in, If we look at these figures She eyes Poppy, halfsuspicious, halfamazed at her quick grasp of new tricks. Did you hire a tutor? she teases.

Barbara then says, Alright, Ive got a tough case for you. Ive been chewing on it all morning; maybe youll crack it. She expects Poppy to stumble, but Poppy studies the file, gnaws another aloe leaf when her throat protests, and soon says, Barbara, its ready. Check it.

The whole team rises, stunned that the newcomer has outshone the firecracker. Barbara snatches the mouse, flicks through the spreadsheet, and asks, How did you do that?

Poppy shrugs, Im a good accountant, just had to think it through.

Barbara, flustered, snaps, Im the good accountant, were all good accountants, and youre just the new kid. Explain yourself!

Just then, Mrs. Thompson bursts in, Ladies, Vera Palmer will be dropping by tomorrow. She has a meeting with the director and promised to swing by us. Bring any questions youve got.

Barbara hisses, Prepare your questions, but Poppy has no idea what to ask. She feels she knows everything, yet her mind is buzzing with topics. The girls murmur, each hoping Vera will give them the spotlight.

The next morning is a blur of prep. The team, led by Barbara, rehearses questions for Vera. Poppy finishes her urgent tasks, chews another aloe strip, and is so absorbed she doesnt notice Vera entering.

Is this the new girl? Vera asks, eyes scanning the room.
Poppy replies softly, popping another leaf into her mouth. Vera, a petite, sharpeyed woman with a tidy bun, fixes her glasses on the tip of her long nose, surveys Poppys monitor and the sad plant, and says, Sorry, I didnt prep any questions. Ive been swamped.

She chuckles, Im retired, so Im not here to hand out advice. No masterclass today, just a chat.

During the break, Poppy finally hops to the staff kitchen for a proper lunch. As shes about to sit, Vera calls her over.

Sit with me, lets have a natter. Hows work treating you? I saw what you did today impressive. Youre sharp. Experience?

Poppy shrugs, Only a month, but I love bookkeeping. Im getting better each day.

Vera grins, And youve been looking after my plant, right? Chewing it? Tasty?

My throat was killing me, so I tried it. Felt better.

Vera laughs, Thats the magic aloe, isnt it? A little boost.

Poppy frowns, Magic?

Vera leans in, Think of it as a bit of doping, love. My gift to you. Itll keep you going. If the girls were quicker, theyd have a whole stash by now.

Poppy looks puzzled, I dont follow.

Vera launches into a story about a centuryold aloe that saved a wandering healer in the desert. He drank its sap, was healed, and the plant became a legend. She says the story is a metaphor for accountants finding their own secret weapons.

Poppy murmurs, So its about healing, not numbers.

Vera nods, Exactly. I started out under a strict mentor, learned the ropes, and when I retired, I passed this plant on. It traveled with me through firms, and now its yours. Its probably a hundred years old. Amazing, right?

Poppy giggles, And why didnt you answer the girls questions?

Vera winks, Im just an ordinary worker now. Nothing special.

Barbara huffs, Thats not fair!

Vera retorts, Who cares about fairness? It doesnt hurt anyone.

After the chat, Poppy returns to her desk, more motivated than ever. She keeps tackling bigger, trickier assignments, chewing aloe whenever her throat protests. A month later shes no longer mopping floors; shes handling the firms top clients, solving complex tax puzzles with a flick of the wrist.

She mutters to herself, Ive been drawing the same boring lines all day. Wheres the excitement?

After a few more months, she hands in her resignation, citing a move to a new region that makes commuting a nightmare. Barbara gasps, Youre leaving us? At the top of your game? Wholl replace you?

Poppy smiles, Ill manage, thanks for the memories.

Barbara, trying to hide her disappointment, says, Youve got a cold or something?

Poppy, halfserious, Aloe helps, remember?

Barbara rolls her eyes, Youre impossible.

Poppy, with a mischievous grin, bites another thick leaf, Give it a go, youll love it.

And thats where we left off the redhaired firecracker glancing at the wilted plant, reluctantly snapping off a piece, and the whole office buzzing with the odd mix of spreadsheets, tea, and a centuryold aloe that somehow keeps everyone going. Cheers, love.