Stuck for the appropriate phrase to complete the email, I paused, stretched my legs, arched my back and glanced out of the window. I started to turn back but did a second take. The man with the jet-black hair and beard, the highly polished shoes and the aluminium briefcase disappeared into reception. I tried to return to the troublesome email, but the right words would not come.

Instead, a face and the memories of four years ago barged their way into my brain. In response my fists clenched and my throat tightened. Four years ago, we had been colleagues and I thought friends. Four years ago we had been asked to work on a project together. Four years ago, I thought that the project would lead to the position of Senior Manager. Four years ago he had told me that he felt I would make great boss.

God, the work I put in on that project. For a month, my life was on hold, my wife and children secondary to the project. I spent almost every waking hour making sure that the definition was clear, the business case watertight and the right people were "on board". Together we had drawn up the outline plan that would see our two teams work together to deliver the upgrade. We had drawn up the budget and then reviewed it repeatedly. Together we drew up the presentation to the board, I would concentrate on the business case and the financials, and he would present the technical overview. We ran through our presentations together, making sure that our 20 minutes in front of the board would unlock the four million pounds needed to make the project a reality.

The day of the presentation is scarred on my memory. He had come to my house for breakfast and a last run through on the possible questions the board may have. He sat there eating my food, drinking my coffee, smiling and confident. As we left together, I kissed my wife and children goodbye. At the front door, he suddenly realised that he left his keys somewhere again and dashed back to the kitchen. As he came back, he had the nerve to kiss my wife goodbye!

That project meant a lot to me. For the previous three years, I had been trying to get the money for the upgrade. I had taken the case to the old head of department time after time. Time after time he had turned it down saying that there were higher priorities. Consequently we had to make do and mend. I admit the results were not pretty, but we had kept everything running and been innovative about the way we used the limited space and the old, chunky equipment.

When we were called into the boardroom, we shook hands and wished each other good luck. As I stood before the board I was faced with a lot of familiar faces, most of whom I knew by their first names, the benefit of being with the company for six years as it grew quickly into being the market leader. My presentation went well and the questions were much as predicted. I sat down feeling calm and confident. Then he got up.

His presentation style was cold and businesslike. Being relatively new to the company, he didn't use the board members first names when responding to questions, but he handled them well enough. I watched the board rather than the presentation; the gently nodding heads as he raised the various details filled me with a growing sense of confidence as we headed towards the wrap up. Then he departed from our agreed script. Pictures of some of our efforts to fit extra equipment and cables into cramped cupboards. To add to the effect I swear he had added a few pieces of litter and paper. His commentary spoke of fire risks, neglect, under investment and of poor staff morale. Although he didn't explicitly blame me for the problems, the implications were

there. I was totally stunned. The chairman thanked us and we turned to leave. I was determined to challenge him as soon as we were out of the room, but at the door he was called back and I returned alone.

The next day he wasn't in the office. The day after I was out at a satellite office. The day after that was the worst day in my career. As soon as I arrived, I was called into a meeting with the head of department. He told me that the Project and budget had been approved. However, the board wanted someone to pay for letting everything get into the mess that they had seen. That someone was me. The offer was that a substantial pay-off in return for my resignation. To help me make up my mind it was made clear that the promotion would be going to my former friend, as would complete control of the project. In recognition of my other contributions and loyalty to the company, I would of course get an excellent reference. The response was expected by lunchtime.

It didn't seem that I had any choice. I returned to my desk and wrote my resignation.

That was an emotional day. The anger I felt at the betrayal. The bitterness I had towards those with selective memories of my numerous attempts to sort out the problems. The sadness at bidding farewell to the friends I had made during my time there. The humiliation I felt at returning home and telling my wife that I was out of work.

I was brought back to the present by the realisation that I was clenching my fists so hard that my nails were digging into the flesh of my palms and my arms were shuddering. The reaction surprised me. After all, I'm probably better off now than I would ever have been if I had stayed.

The use of Logic did not restore composure. I decided that I would take a walk to the small kitchen and get myself a cup of tea. Karen, one of the administration team was in there.

"Hi Karen, I liked the new format for last months review pack, much easier to read." I searched out a tea bag and a mug and filled the kettle.

"Thanks Phil. Hey, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." She looked at me with concern.

"I'm fine, it's just been a long week."

Karen looked at me and smiled. "Well, OK. Better get back, the others will wonder if I am growing the Tea."

She placed half a dozen steaming cups onto a tray and left the kitchen area.

Waiting for the kettle to boil, I found my thoughts returning to four years ago. I remembered the three months I was on gardening leave. For the first month, my thoughts were never far from revenge. Not just against him, but everyone at the company. As time passed the thoughts of revenge came less often. When I re-entered the world of work, the thoughts of revenge against the company had almost vanished. Although I got that coveted Senior Managers job here at Empiratek, the thoughts of revenge against him still managed to burn their way through in occasional idle moments.

Over the years, I maintained contacts with my old team. Once a month or so we met up for a drink and talked about old times. They never raised the subject of that fateful day and although they talked about the project (which was unfortunately reasonably incident free), we never talked about him. It was only after I hired several of them into my new company that I found out he had been promoted and posted to a US subsidiary, a fact that had me brooding and sullen for several days.

Although the reunions continued, soon none of us continued with the old  company.

The click of the kettle brought me back. I started to think about completing the email again. The phrasing began to slowly form and the red mist thinned. I think I was almost smiling as I returned to my office, completed the final paragraph and triumphantly hit the send key. The whole episode was quickly relegated to the back of my mind by a couple of 'phone calls and a meeting.

Afterwards, I returned to my desk in good heart. I filtered and then returned my messages. As is my habit on fine days, I then went for a constitutional around the landscaped grounds of the site. By now, I was in a more positive frame of mind. My thoughts were on how well things had gone in the last four years. As well as the addition of a second daughter to the family, my time with Empiratek had been amazing. The company appreciated their employees and had provided me with an opportunity to work on some amazing projects and technology. Huge challenges were given to me and I had risen to them to such a degree that a few months ago I achieved my Holy Grail of a seat on the board.

The financial rewards an added bonus. With a great job and a fantastic family, I could leave the past behind me and look forward to the future.

Why was it then that I went back to my office via the reception? Why did I feel the need to inspect the visitors' book? Why did my stomach lurch and tighten when I saw his name?

I had to lean upon the chrome and glass counter and breathe deeply for a few seconds. He had been here.  I checked the book again to see whom he had visited and was shocked to see the name of Andy, one of my own heads of department. I almost sprinted to his office. I managed to catch my breath and compose myself before I got there. Knocking gently on the open door and smiling as best I could, I walked in.

"Hi Andy, how's it going?" I asked casually.

Andy turned from his computer screen and smiled. "Hi Phil. I was going to come and see you later. I think I might have found some one to be the new Head of Infrastructure."

"Really?" I hardly heard my own voice above the sound of my heart thumping in my ears.

"Yes, Mike Grady. Do you know him? He used to work at your old place."

"Yes, I knew him. Last I heard he was working in the States." My voice was calm but my mind raced.

Andy went to a pile of papers and withdrew the pale blue sheets.

"Yep, he spent several years out there. He stayed out there for a while travelling when the company was shut down, but has now returned to his  roots. Do you want to interview him?"

A wonderful picture formed in my mind as I imagined the face of the backstabbing toad as he walked in and realisation dawned. What would he do? Would he stammer an apology? Would he continue as if there was no  history? Would he make his excuses and leave? 

continue> 

"Phil?" Andy stopped me savouring the choicest moments in my imagined scenarios.

"Sorry Andy. How long was he travelling?" I tried to buy time to think.

Andy consulted the pale blue papers again. "In all about a year. He had a short term contract in Seattle sandwiched neatly between two stints, one in the US the other in Canada."

"Do you think he is right for the role?"

Andy thought for a second. "I think so, but you know him. Would he do a good job?"

"Oh yes, Mike does a good job. He's a touch cool, but efficient. But he will be your section head. It has to be your decision." 

"OK, thanks Phil. I'll take another look at him." Andy looked genuinely pleased that I gave him the responsibility.

I could have blocked his application there and then. For some reason I didn't. For the rest of the day, I kept asking myself why, but couldn't grasp an answer.

The same thought kept me from sleeping that night. I lay staring at the ceiling for what seemed for hours wondering what had held me back. I recalled his face, that fateful presentation, the day I was laid off, anything to try to evoke the emotions of earlier, but now the events left me cold. In the end, I decided that my earlier reactions must have been the result of the shock rather than a deep-seated passion.

Work forced any thoughts of him out of my mind over the next few weeks. Indeed, I had almost forgotten the whole episode until Andy lingered behind after my management meeting.

"I interviewed Mike Grady yesterday. He looked uncomfortable when I told him that you were my boss." Andy was looking at me, I think expecting a reaction.

"Really? He was probably surprised I was a director here. I can't get used to it myself" I casually responded and kept a poker face.

"I was speaking to Terry, he reckons there is some history between you." Andy was fishing, but I wasn't biting.

"A little, but that is way in the past. Besides, I won't have to manage him. You will. If you think that he is the person you want, then hire him, if not then don't. I told you before that it's your call. If the history is important he won't accept the offer, will he?" My calmness again surprised me.

Again, Andy looked pleased that I hadn't interfered. After leaving him, I had a few doubts. I hadn't considered Terry and the other guys I had poached. That evening I took them out for a beer to gauge their reaction. None of them seemed upset. They were surprised, but not upset. In the end, I decided to let events run, after all now he knew that I was in charge and would probably decline any job offer.

I heard nothing more about the matter until the paperwork arrived on my desk to sign. It was interesting that Grady's reference from my old company was almost word for word the same as the one I got. The company in Seattle apparently didn't give references. My newfound calm over the past meant I signed it and moved on without a second thought.

When Grady started, I was out of the country. The day after I returned I looked up from my computer to see him hovering at my door. He looked

pale and uncomfortable.

"Hello Mike. Come in and shut the door." I swear that he started to sweat.

He walked into my office a little unsteadily and closed the door. He came over and stood in front of my desk.

"Sit down. Just give me a second."

There was nothing imperative about my work, but I continued on my computer. For several minutes, I took some delight at he discomfort of the normally cool Grady. As I continued to type, he squirmed uncomfortably in the chair.

"Sorry about that." I lied impeccably. "Welcome to Empiratek."

"Thanks. When I found out it was you I didn't think I would get the job. Because of what happened, I mean. The upgrade project. It was a stupid  thing to do; I didn't think it through. Look, I'm sorry. Really, sorry. " The ice cool Grady was gibbering, a sheen of sweat covering his face as he fiddled with his keys like they were a rosary.

"It worked out well for me. In the end. I doubt I would have achieved as much if I stayed and I learned from the experience." I spoke to rescue him, although I knew that by keeping silent I could have increased his discomfort.

"Phil. I'm sorry. God this is difficult. I've been through this a thousand times in my mind. Rehearsed a speech, but somehow couldn't get it out. Can we start again?"

"Sure Mike. Just remember that if you try any stunts you'll be out. OK?"

"OK."

We chatted for about 15 minutes. He was surprisingly open. He told me that he had fallen out with our former head of department so had taken the chance on a job in the States. How things started to go sour when his marriage failed. Shortly after that, the company had been closed down and he was not offered a post back in the UK. He had hoped to stay out there but couldn't get work. When his visa expired, he tried Canada for a while before returning home. He even admitted that he wouldn't have considered our job offer if he hadn't been so deep in debt.

By the time he left, I hadn't warmed to him, but I certainly felt that he was no longer a rival.

Grady hadn't changed much from the guy I knew. He was good at his job if a little obsessive and distant. Andy was pleased with his work and I got what I wanted done. We didn't see much of each other and when we did, we only discussed work. There were still the old reminders of the old days. Like the way he left his keys lying around, his love for his classic Mercedes Sports Car and his passion for golf. Although, we didn't become friends, I certainly didn't discriminate against him as a colleague.

Today, five months later, I sit in a darkened office, staring at the paperwork that will officially terminate his employment. No one can understand how he could think he wouldn't be caught. His actions and the consequences have been the only subject of a firestorm of conversation throughout the office.

Last week, some prototypes disappeared from one of the research labs. According to the access control computer, only half a dozen people had been in there that day. The MD followed procedures and ordered that they and their cars were searched as they left the site. The prototypes were found in Grady's golf bag, along with CDs containing our customer and supplier lists, software and technical specifications.

Our less reputable competitors would have paid well for them. Some governments might have been interested in the software and specifications.

The Managing Director held a crisis meeting. The question about his debt was raised. I admitted that I knew he had debts, but expressed surprise at how large they turned out to be. The whole sorry affair was dissected. We called a halt after deciding to improve our vetting procedures for new hires, tighten up access controls, and improve search procedures.

The scale and sensitivity of the theft meant we had no choice but to call in the police. They are confident of a conviction and reckon that he faces a lengthy jail term. Grady is protesting his innocence. He claims that he has been framed. A police Inspector spent a couple of days interviewing Andy, and people in his department before declaring that they thought it highly unlikely.

With a sigh I sign the papers and place them in the tray.

On the way home, I stop at the River Bridge and look at the grey waters below. I allow myself a smile. They say that revenge is like champagne, best taken cold. How true that is. I open my hand and watch a small bunch of keys fall and leave brief ripples. My past baggage sinks with them to the depths. Returning to my car I wonder if jail will teach Mike Grady to take care of keys. 

End

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