Authors: JD Nixon
“Dixie’s never
been the most considerate person in the world, I’m afraid.”
“It was fun
while it lasted.”
“Someone else
will come along for you.”
“I suppose. One
day. In the meantime, I have this.” He waggled the DVD.
“It’s very . .
. um . . . I wouldn’t call it realistic, but it has a certain
entertainment value.”
“And your score
out of ten for it?”
“About a two.
Some of the scenes were unintentionally hilarious.”
“I’ll let you
know what I think tomorrow.”
I laid my hand
on his arm. “I really am sorry about Dixie. I should have warned
you from the start that she’s a player. I guess I hoped she’d be
different with you.”
“One thing I’ve
learned is that you can’t change people, especially if they’re not
willing to change.”
“Very true,
unfortunately.” My thoughts instantly turned to Heller. There was
no changing him.
I was a little
early for work the next day, even though the first thing I’d done
was stop to fill up my petrol tank. I had to wait outside the
store, sipping a large flat white, until Miss Petunia arrived and
opened.
She looked me
up and down critically. I’d worn one of the designer skirt suits
Heller had paid for when he first hired me. “You can’t wear that in
my shop.”
I was taken
aback. It was an expensive, well-regarded brand and exactly the
type of image I thought she’d desire – understated elegance. “Why
not?”
“I don’t sell
that brand. I want my girls to represent the brands I do sell. You
must buy something from the store to wear.”
“Buy? Can’t I
just borrow something?”
“Of course not!
I’m running a business, not a charity. I’ll give you a five per
cent discount and that’s my first and final offer.”
Grumbling to
myself, I picked out the least expensive outfit in the shop, a
light dress, paying for it with my credit card.
She looked up
at me from beneath her glasses and tapped a nearby display of
jewellery. “Matilda, surely you know the golden rule for fashion –
accessorise, accessorise, accessorise.” She considered the display
for a while, finally picking out a necklace and pair of earrings.
“I’ll put these on your card as well.”
I changed into
my new clothes, carefully folding up mine and storing them in the
back office. It was a nice dress, but I felt sick every time I
thought of that large credit charge being added to my card.
She looked at
me approvingly. “Much better. Now you’re a walking ambassador for
my store.” I busied myself tidying racks of clothes that had been
thoroughly tidied the previous evening. “Oh, and by the way, you’ll
need a different outfit for every day.”
What? A new
one every day?
It was beginning to look as though I couldn’t
afford this job. I’d be better off unemployed and earning nothing
than to earn a negative pay.
It was a slow
day, Miss Petunia electing to spend most of it in the back office
doing paperwork. Jodee and I virtually pounced on any customer who
ventured through the door, as there were so few. I tried to keep
busy, but there were only so many times a person could tidy racks
of clothes and make sure the fitting rooms were immaculate.
I had a minor
mishap when a rack of clothes I was straightening up for the third
time that morning, collapsed under the weight of its clothes,
sending them puddling to the floor. I could swear I had nothing to
do with it, apart being the one actually touching it at the time.
But of course a petulant Miss Petunia took it out on a red-faced
me, and believe me when I say that woman had a tongue in her mouth
sharper than a razor blade.
Glad to escape
for lunch, I grabbed some fried chicken and chips, exactly the kind
of food Heller wouldn’t allow. But as he wasn’t here, I enjoyed the
rare junk food splurge, though I had to be careful not to spill any
of the greasy food on to my new dress. I spent the rest of my lunch
break wandering around looking in the shopfronts at the various
displays.
Trent rang me,
asking me how I was going, admitting he’d been concerned for me.
“I’ve used every chance I have to advocate for you, Tilly. I want
you back here. We worked so well together. Poor Scottie has to do
your job now as well as his own. He’s at breaking point, but those
useless arseholes upstairs won’t back down. I think Brady’s
whispering in their ears every chance he gets.”
“I thought
they’d want to accommodate their biggest star.”
“Ha! I’m just a
commodity to them. I have their respect only up to the precise
second
People’s Pulse
starts losing market share. And then
it’s
au revoir
to me.”
“You’re such a
cynic.”
“You don’t get
far in this business by being a nice guy and giving people the
benefit of the doubt. I learned that the hard way.”
“Thanks for
trying anyway, Trent. I really appreciate it.”
“I’ll keep at
them. Maybe I can wear them down?”
“Maybe.”
“How’s your new
job?”
“Boring. And
I’m not even sure I’m really employed there. Miss Petunia keeps
avoiding answering me when I ask.”
“Miss
Petunia?”
“That’s what I
have to call her.”
“Good God.
Sounds like something from a Jane Austen book.”
“Are you
jealous? If I ever come back to work for you I’ll call you Miss
Trent, if you like.”
“Cheeky wench.”
I heard Brady’s voice from afar, yelling out something. Trent
covered the mouthpiece, but I could still hear his voice, though a
little muffled. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there in a second.” Then to
me, “I’m sorry, Tilly. I have to go. Talk to you soon.”
Back in the
shop, the afternoon picked up a little and there was just enough to
do to see us through until closing time.
“What a
terrible day’s takings,” complained Miss Petunia as she reconciled.
“If I have many more like this, then I’m going to have to let one
of you go. This year has been shocking for sales.”
We all knew
whom she’d choose out of Jodee and me. I might be unemployed again
sooner than I expected.
“Perhaps less
people have money to spend on designer clothes these days?” I
suggested.
Her lips
pursed. She obviously didn’t appreciate her staff expressing
independent thoughts. “I don’t believe it’s your business to become
involved in
my
business,” she said haughtily.
“I was only
trying to be helpful.”
“You’d be more
helpful if you could ensure my clothes didn’t go tumbling to the
floor again,” she said sharply.
Oh
brother!
“Yes, Miss Petunia,” I grovelled, my self-hate raising
itself to a level I’d rarely experienced.
Did I really
need this job?
I asked myself on the drive home. She was a
petty tyrant and was probably going to sack me soon anyway. Maybe I
just wouldn’t return to the store tomorrow. And much later, I
marvelled at just how prescient I’d been to think that.
It was dark by
the time I arrived home. I stopped my car on the driveway to swipe
my card to open the garage door. A figure ran out of the darkness,
banging on my window. Frightened, I sped into the garage the second
the door opened far enough for me to squeeze through my little car.
In the rear view mirror, I saw that shadowy figure slip under the
door just before it closed.
Whoever it was,
now was inside the Warehouse with me.
I put the brake
on and hunted around for a weapon. My plan was to outrun them to
the panic button and then sprint up the stairs to the safety of the
security men. It was a simple plan that should be simple to
implement.
I flung open
the car door and sprang out.
A hoarse voice
called out, “Tilly.”
I spun around,
completely gobsmacked when I saw who slumped against the brick
wall.
“Marcus?”
Chapter
31
“Please, Tilly.
I need somewhere to stay. My father . . .”
“Marcus, what’s
happened to you?”
He was in a bad
way, one eye puffed closed and bruised, his bottom lip swollen and
bleeding. He held his arms around himself as if something hurt
inside.
“We had a
fight.” It pained him to speak through his busted lip.
“You and your
father?”
“Yes.”
“What
about?”
“He was beating
on Mum.”
“He did this to
you? Your own father?”
“Yes. He said
he was going to kill me. I’m really worried about Mum. She’s still
there with him.”
“God.” I looked
around me. The camera in our direct line wasn’t on for some reason
at the moment. “I have to get you upstairs to my place, but I don’t
know how. There are cameras everywhere.”
I thought for a
moment. “Get in the back of my car and keep low,” I instructed.
He did what he
was told and I drove up a level.
“Stay there.” I
jogged over to the electricity switchboard and flicked off the
mains. We were immediately swallowed in a shroud of darkness, the
security cameras dead as well. “Marcus, over here. We have to move
fast.”
He stumbled
over to me and holding hands we sprinted up the stairs. We just
managed to clear the ground floor landing when the security door
burst open and men with torches spilled out. I flattened Marcus
against the wall, but Lady Luck was on our side tonight. The men
were intent on hitting the basement, none of them thinking to look
up the stairs.
Marcus and I
moved as quietly as we could up to my floor, only breathing again
when we reached my door. We only just scraped inside before the
lights came back on. My phone rang.
“Everything all
right with you? Saw you were down in the garage when the lights
went out.”
“Hello to you
too, Clive. I’m fine. I made my way to the safety of my flat. I
didn’t want to be trampled by a horde of your men in the
darkness.”
“You know
anything about what happened?”
“Nope.”
“It seems odd
that you were down there when the lights went out.”
“Just my rotten
luck, as usual. I guess a faulty appliance or something tripped the
power. You should have all our electricals tested.”
He hung up on
me. Lovely – a man of many manners. But it didn’t bode well for me
that he was already suspicious.
“Will you help
me?” Marcus pleaded. I led him over to my lounge.
“Tell me what
happened.”
“Dad had been
drinking. All day long. He was really angry with Mum and me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Why not? Mum didn’t iron his shirt properly. I didn’t get an
A-plus on my last exam. His dinner was a bit late. It didn’t matter
why. He was just looking for someone to blame.”
“To blame for
what?”
“His business.
Heller’s stealing all his big-name clients by undercutting him. He
shows them just how much Dad’s been ripping them off for years.
They’re happy to move to
Heller’s
.”
“He’s a mean
drunk?”
He nodded his
head. “He smashed up the lounge room.” I wasn’t surprised – Chris
Kirnin was mean when he was sober.
“So Select
Security is on the skids?” He nodded again, his eyes downcast. “I’m
sorry to say this, but Heller will be pleased to hear that. He’s a
fierce competitor.”
He raised
miserable eyes to mine. “So is my father.”
“Let me look at
these wounds.”
I patched him
up as best I could considering I had only a rudimentary first aid
kit in my flat.
“Thank you,” he
said quietly.
“Do you think
you have any internal injuries? Broken ribs perhaps?”
“Maybe just
some bruising.” His eyes were full of pain and hurt. “He knocked me
over and kicked me a couple of times. He said things about me. That
I was useless. That I’d never be anything more than a boy.”
I clasped one
of his hands in mine. “You know that’s not true, Marcus. Remember
when Heller congratulated you for being a man? He wouldn’t say
something like that unless he genuinely meant it. He’s not one for
giving out praise freely. You should be proud of that.”
“I s’pose.”
“Tell me what
happened with your mother. Is she still there at your house?”
“She tried to
stop Dad, but then he turned on her. She screamed at me to run, to
find somewhere safe to stay.” He jumped up and paced around,
agitated. “I
shouldn’t
have gone. I left her there with
him.”
“You made the
right choice. Your mother wanted to make sure you were safe, as any
mother would. At least that’s one less thing for her to worry
about. The best thing we can do for her and you is to call the
police.”
“No! You never
call the police. Don’t tell me you don’t know that.”
“But your
mother –”
“No! She
wouldn’t want the police involved either. I came here because I
thought you could help me.”
“Of course I’ll
help you. You can stay here as long as you want. I’m sure nobody
will mind.” In fact I was pretty sure lots of people here would
mind me giving sanctuary to anyone connected to Select
Security.
“That’s not the
help I want. I want you to rescue my mother.”
“Rescue her?
How am I supposed to do that?”
“I have money
saved up. I want to hire
Heller’s
.”
“We can’t take
an assignment from a sixteen-year-old.”
“I’m seventeen
now!” he said hotly.
“That doesn’t
make any difference. There are all sorts of conflict of interest
issues involved in working for a close relative of one of our main
rivals. Heller runs an ethical business.” Well, mostly ethical. I
had my suspicions about some of his more secret activities.
He slumped back
against the lounge. “I thought you’d help me. That’s why I came
here. I have nobody else to go to. You were nice to me last time I
was here.”