Authors: Louise Wise
‘
He,’ Charlie corrected. ‘He’s in that 1980s cop series.’
‘
The Sweeney?’
‘
Hang on,’ interrupted Melvin, waving his hands in front of them. ‘Let’s get this straight –’
‘
You’re hardly going to get anything straight, Melly,’ said Faye with a shriek of laughter.
‘
That’s good, Faye,’ said Charlie laughing.
‘
Thank you, Charlie.’
Melvin closed his eyes in frustration, and Charlie sobered immediately. ‘Oh, Mel, this is just office gossip, a joke at worst. Armed police wouldn’t have arrested Mr Middleton. That’s silly.’
Sarah passed them coming back from the vending machine, sipping a coffee, and heard Charlie’s last words. ‘It’s true as I’m standing here. Everyone’s talking about it, even Fanny.’
Charlie and Melvin stared at one another. ‘My God,’ said Charlie. ‘B-but why? I mean, what has he done?’
Nobody really knew, but it wasn’t long into the morning when a rumour circulated that Mr Middleton’s red Audi was spotted in the Red Light district and he had been arrested for kerb crawling. Then the low whispers started that he was the Gentleman Abductor.
Mr Middleton suddenly burst through the double doors, paperwork under one arm, brief case and coat in another, and he looked furious.
Melvin and Charlie exchanged looks. ‘I think we should keep our heads down today, baby doll,’ he said.
Charlie pulled a face, nodded and slipped behind her own desk. From beneath her eyelashes she watched Mr Middleton snatch the telephone from poor John Fanton’s fingers and Fanny was forced to gather his things together quickly, and looking startled, he found himself on the other side of the door within seconds of Mr Middleton arriving.
Charlie bit the inside of her lip. No, it wasn’t funny, Mr Fanton was a bit of a grump, but even he didn’t deserve that treatment. Still trying hard not to laugh, she looked back at the editor’s window, and jumped when she found Mr Middleton’s chocolate dark eyes boring into hers. He reached up and pulled the blinds, blocking her and the rest of the office out.
She thought of the red car, and its owner’s dark shape within.
Could
it have been Middleton?
Her laughter dried up.
TWENTY
EIGHT
W
hile Charlie and Melvin had been talking, Ben was entering the building. How stupid was he to believe that his encounter with the police wouldn’t get out. It must have been circulated all around
Core
– not forgetting the other publications – in a matter of moments. The personal email connection must have been smoking!
He heard the whispers of the receptionists as he strode through the foyer towards the lift, and the back of his neck burned with embarrassment as he stood waiting. Someone giggled behind him and the flush rose from his chest to cover his face.
The lift doors opened to reveal many faces; faces which all stopped chatting. They might as well have pointed their fingers and shouted, ‘Kerb crawler.’ Or worse, ‘Abductor.’
Ben stepped inside the lift and turned to face the door; he watched the floor numbers above his head and wished he’d taken the stairs. The lift had a discomfited quiet about it, and Ben had been glad to get out. He approached the office doors, and peeked in. He found himself mentally counting to ten before opening the door, something he hadn’t done since – well – a month or so, at least.
Twenty-nine eyes turned towards him (Mikey had a false eye that refused to move with the other). He nodded to anyone in general and walked the length of the room towards his office; he was sure someone had moved the office further away.
Inside, Mr Fanton was on the telephone. He raised his eyebrows at Ben, and smirked.
He actually smirked! Ben had never liked Mr Fanton. The man was pompous and obviously thought, because he was on first name terms with his father, that that gave him some kind of advantage over him.
Ben’s anger surprised him; surprised him because it felt so good.
He snatched the phone from Mr Fanton’s hand, and manhandled him outside and slammed the door after him. He then reached to pull the blind, but hesitated as a pair of green eyes glowered at him.
Charlie Wallis was a popular member of
London Core
. He had already knocked the dynamic of the office out of orbit, and it wouldn’t do to upset the most liked member in the building either. Or that’s what he told himself. In truth he didn’t want her to hold horrible thoughts on him like everyone else seemed to be.
He pulled the blind. Too late, it seemed. They all hated him anyway. Everyone had nick-names and was touchy-feely;
tactile.
TWENTY NINE
C
harlie went to lunch in a daze. Her judgement of character seemed to be wrong yet again. The quiet, mild-mannered and astronomy boff Mr Middleton was prime suspect in the abduction case. Of course, gossip and speculation had added weight to Middleton’s ‘arrest’, making him sound like a hardened criminal.
She found herself in the car park. Close to
London Core
’
s
main entrance was a section for senior staff to park their cars and Charlie headed over. She felt conspicuous, especially as she’d travelled to work by bus today. She acknowledged that CCTV would be recording her every move, and tried to walk casually towards the line of cars. Unfortunately her casual walk: exaggerated longer stride, nose in air and whistling tunelessly was more eye-catching than casual, but luckily for her she was well recognised and security were probably not paying her much attention.
She walked past the line of expensive cars until she spotted a red convertible. Charlie turned from it quickly.
‘
Oh my God, oh my God,’ she muttered. She turned back; glanced at the camera and ‘casually’ walked towards it.
It wasn’t an Audi, and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. Next to the car was an empty space. On the ground it was painted: RESERVED FOR DIRECTOR.
Ben Middleton’s space.
A door opened to
London Core
and a security guard stepped out. He raised a hand towards Charlie. She stopped herself from diving to the floor, and rolling, American cop style, under the belly of the nearest car.
‘
All right, love?’ he called.
Her grin was over-stretched. ‘I’m fine thank you Tom. I’m thinking of buying myself a new motor and I’m looking around for inspiration. This is a nice car,’ she waffled, and touched the nearest car. ‘I love strong colours in cars, don’t you? Something that says something about a person.’
‘
White’s strong?’ Tom said, and Charlie looked at the car she was touching. Chuckling, he headed towards a KFC across the road.
Charlie looked back at the empty space where Middleton’s car should have been. Now what?
She turned towards the car park’s exit, and made her way to the park. She grabbed a sandwich from the local takeaway café on the way. It was nice and sunny for November and not too cold at all. She found a bench and unwrapped her ham and tomato.
She chewed on her lunch as her mind re-ran the image of Sally Readman climbing into the red car. It was a shame Middleton’s car wasn’t in the car park, and then she would’ve seen he couldn’t possibly be the abductor. His car was probably a red Jag or something, and the police singled him out because of the similarities. What a weird coincidence the abductor and Mr Middleton each have a similar car!
But… and this was only a tiny ‘but’, there
had
been something in Mr Middleton’s eyes. Sadness, yes; but a fear and a longing of some kind. Charlie bit into her ham and tomato sandwich thoughtfully
.
Had she really been the last person to see Sally Readman? The guilt was intense, and she had to close her eyes to gather back her poise.
‘
Want a coffee with that?’
She jumped, and began to cough as a piece of ham became lodged in her throat.
‘
Do you want me to administer the Heimlich manoeuvre?’ Mr Middleton placed two coffees on the ground and patted her on the back. He looked concerned.
‘
No,’ she coughed. ‘It’s OK.’
He patted harder, and she was almost knocked off the bench. ‘Sorry,’ he grabbed her arm before she could fall. ‘Look, take a sip of this.’ He handed her the drink.
‘
Thanks,’ she took it, and sipped. She peeked up at him from beneath a shaggy fringe, feeling a sudden rush of shyness as he sat next to her. He picked up his coffee, and as he bent forwards Charlie decided she liked the way his hair fell off his forehead to cover his eyes.
He brushed it away. ‘I saw you from over there,’ he nodded towards a fast-food mobile van. ‘And I thought, by way of a peace offering, I’d buy you a drink.’
‘
Peace offering?’
‘
For kicking your beloved John Fanton out of his office. You were giving me such an evil eye this morning,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I thought I’d better surrender quickly.’
She looked at his hands, curled around the plastic cup of coffee, and imagined them throttling someone to death – but instead thought of them caressing her body. She sighed with pleasure almost as if her daydream had become a reality. ‘Those hands would cup my boobs just nicely,’ she murmured.
‘
Pardon?’
She stilled as she realised she’d spoken out loud. ‘I – I, er, um… Hot! Hot, this cup. For my hands, that is.’
Somehow, Mr Middleton seemed to understand. ‘Oh, my,’ he said, and took the plastic cup from her. ‘Sorry. I’ll put it on the ground by your feet. Be careful not to knock it over.’
They sat in silence for a while; Charlie not daring to look at him and holding her limp sandwich on her lap.
Mr Middleton cleared his throat. ‘How’s the new vending machine? Are you getting your caffeine fix?’
‘
It’s good, thanks.’ Come on Wallis, you’re usually so nervous you can’t
stop
talking. Say something interesting. ‘It makes a lovely cup of tea.’ Yep, that’ll do it.
‘
Did you see the comet the other week?’ Ben asked.
‘
Hartley 2? Nah, it was cloudy. Can never manage to see anything under this sky. Now where I used to live in Northampton I could see everything.’ That’s better. Common ground. ‘Did you spot it?’
‘
Unfortunately no. I didn’t get the chance to look through my telescope –’
‘
You’ve a telescope?’
He gave a smile, which crinkled his chocolate eyes. ‘I’ve an observatory.’
‘
Oh my God! You are
so
lucky! But why didn’t you look through it? You’ve another six and a half years to wait now.’
‘
I had, er, other things on my mind.’ His face became taut again. His mouth moved to sip his coffee, and she found herself watching the movement, her own lips parting as his touched the edge of the cup. Charlie shivered, and looked away.
‘
Cold?’
It wasn’t cold that she was feeling. She bit into her sandwich, wondering when she’d swapped the filling with cardboard.
‘
No, I’m fine,’ she answered. They sat in silence again.
‘
How’d you like working for
Core
?’ he asked. ‘You said you were aiming to be a writer.’
He remembered her babbling at their disastrous meeting? God, help her. ‘I love fiction writing,’ she said at last, ‘but I don’t think I’m any good.’
‘
Is that your opinion or someone else’s? And unless they are a bestseller ignore them. What about journalism? Have you thought about putting your writing to good use and doing that?’
Was he laughing at her? Charlie frowned and moodily wondered if anyone would ever take her seriously. It wounded her that she had to place him with that group of people. She wondered what it would be like to have him look at her in admiration instead of frustration – hmmm well, anyone looking at her like that, really. She glanced at him. His face was serious.
‘
I don’t think I’d be any good at reporting. I’d get too involved in the stories.’ Ain’t that the truth!
‘
Isn’t that what gives a reporter their fire?’
She smiled; he was trying to be kind – or humouring her; her smile died.
‘
If, er, being a writer is something you’re interested in then I’ll help you,’ he said. ‘Which university did you qualify at?’
‘
I never went to college or university,’ she said. ‘I was never given the option. I only have a handful of GCSEs.’
‘
Oh,’ he looked surprised. ‘Don’t you have a NCTJ or anything?’
‘
No, nothing.’ She sighed. ‘It was just a dream I had that’s all, an unreachable dream.’ She had meant to sound flippant rather than sad, but she sounded heartbroken even to her own ears. ‘I was always writing stories as a kid. I tried to sell them to neighbours for fifty pence.’ She smiled as she remembered, and he smiled with her.