by Carys Jones
‘I suppose,’ Laurie answered reluctantly. She remained sat in her chair, looking uneasy.
‘Is there a problem?’ Faye snapped angrily.
‘Well, I was supposed to be keeping a low profile.’
‘He was fine when I ran it past him,’ Faye nodded towards the Deputy Prime Minister’s office, liking how the lie felt in her mouth.
‘Oh, in that case,’ Laurie stood up, silently grateful for the task, as she was tired of the way Faye’s disapproval of her had suddenly intensified. As dull a job as it might be, at least it would grant her some respite from the bitterness of the woman.
With Laurie gone, Faye set about preparing another nasty task for her intern. She logged on to her computer and placed in an unnecessary order for stationary. Then, she selected a delivery time of ten that evening, fully aware that the building would be all but empty by that time, as even the most zealous workers had to go home and sleep at some point.
Taking a devilish delight in what she had orchestrated, Faye sat back and waited for Laurie’s return, relishing in how she predicated the young girl might react, wanting more than anything to see the disappointment wash over her face. She did briefly consider that perhaps she was being unfair, that Laurie had done nothing to her to deserve being treated so harshly. But then she recalled how the Deputy Prime Minister had behaved when she queried the girl’s leave.
‘Faye, really, drop it. I’ve approved it,’ he said angrily when she suggested that it was inappropriate for Laurie to be returning home yet again.
‘She is making a mockery of the internship!’ Faye had raged.
‘Please, try and be more understanding,’ the Deputy Prime Minister had said wearily. ‘She has lost her sister.’
Faye fought the urge to point out how she had also lost a sister as a result of her own fervent dedication but chose not to.
‘All bins emptied out,’ Laurie declared as she returned just over an hour later, her shoulders slumped as she was clearly tired.
‘Some of them didn’t even have anything in,’ she added cheekily, as though blatantly exposing the task for what it was, which only added fuel to Faye’s already raging fire of anger which was burning up inside her.
‘Since you’ve so much capacity then, you won’t mind staying late to sign for an important order.’
‘Oh, okay. How late?’ Laurie asked uncertainly.
‘It should be here by ten tonight,’ Faye replied sweetly.
‘Ten!’ Laurie’s cheeks flushed with panic. ‘Oh, I really can’t stay that late.’
‘Whyever not?’
‘Please, Faye, I don’t want to walk home alone that late at night.’
‘Then use the tube.’
‘I’m all on my own. I don’t have anyone who can come and meet me,’ Laurie pleaded.
‘Well, I have plans this evening so you have to stay as the order needs to be signed for,’ Faye declared triumphantly.
‘Why don’t you ask the Deputy Prime Minister to walk you home?’ she mocked. ‘Oh wait, he won’t be here. He will have gone home himself, to his wife.’
Laurie just gazed silently at Faye, realising that no matter what she said, she wouldn’t be able to change the angry woman’s mind. Delighted with her victory, Faye smirked before ordering Laurie to go and make coffee, but not before asking the people in at least three other offices if they wanted anything. Before she left, Laurie regarded her with a look not of anger or resentment, but of pity. Faye wondered if the girl was going to challenge her but she said nothing, instead grabbing a note pad and heading off on the epic coffee run.
It was normally Lorna who encountered hostility from other women. She would recount tales to Laurie from nights out when a girlfriend would come up and push Lorna sharply, demanding to know why her boyfriend couldn’t take his eyes off her.
‘People think we have it easy,’ Lorna had theorised once, ‘because we are pretty.’
‘Looks are superfluous,’ Laurie had replied dismissively, lying back on her sister’s bed, her eyes trained on the patterned ceiling above her.
‘But it’s not easy. We stand out. People remember us; that’s not always a good thing. Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to be unnoticed, to just fade into the background.’
‘You would hate that,’ Laurie scoffed.
‘Yeah, I guess,’ Lorna admitted. ‘At least we will never be jealous of one another’s looks,’ she joked.
‘Just clothes,’ Laurie laughed.
The day fell away into the night and Laurie sat at her desk and patiently waited. Faye had left the premises promptly at six, continuing to discuss plans she had that evening which Laurie knew were false.
So, sat alone, Laurie idled away the few remaining hours until the package’s arrival, all the while aware of how eerily quiet the building had become. At around nine, she felt that the building was quiet enough for her to be able to walk around a little. Laurie meandered over to another office nearby and glanced out of their window to see that darkness had now smothered the world outside, which made her feel uneasy. She considered calling for a taxi but the late hour, coupled with the location, would have made the cost astronomical for what was only a short walk to her apartment.
Returning to her own desk, Laurie checked her own personal emails as there really was no work left for her to do. She expected to find a flurry of messages from Arthur declaring his undying love for her and so she was surprised to have not even received one. She felt a pang of worry for the boy that, deep down, she did still love. She considered calling him but decided against it. The solitude and the encroaching night were just making her feel especially lonely and vulnerable.
At last it was ten, but it was another agonising fifteen minutes before the promised parcel arrived with no word of apology with regard to the delay. Laurie accepted the package and signed on the courier’s digital device before carrying the large box to her work area.
‘Christ!’ Laurie cried out angrily when she looked down and examined the box she was carrying and noticed the familiar logo for a stationary brand.
‘Oh, really important!’ she cried angrily, flinging the box to the ground, caring not for its contents.
Disgruntled, Laurie immediately prepared to leave, determined to have more than a cross word with Faye the following morning.
Outside, the air was crisp and cold but deadly still; there wasn’t even the faintest breeze. Laurie stopped at the staff entrance and fastened her coat right up to the highest button. It did little to alleviate the chill around her, but made her feel a bit more secure.
Immediately, Laurie turned and began to walk home. The pathways which were usually bustling in the mornings were now all but deserted; no doubt most people had been deterred from leaving their homes by the cold. Laurie tucked her head inside her coat and walked quickly, her footsteps clear and determined. Her mind raced with a thousand horror stories she had heard about the city and the dark deeds which were conducted at night. Fearful of a potential mugger approaching her, Laurie clung to her handbag tightly with both hands. If someone wanted her belongings they would have to be willing to fight for them.
A few feet ahead of her Laurie noticed orange lights flashing on the pavement. As she drew closer, she realised that her route was cornered off for workman changing some pipes below street level. Agitated, she stopped and assessed her options. There was a diversion sign which would send her down a dark alley which she was unfamiliar with.
Even though she knew it was foolish to do so, Laurie retrieved her mobile phone from her handbag and accessed the satellite tracking system it had, all the while remaining under the relative safety of a street lamp. The system confirmed that the diversion would quickly lead her back out onto her familiar route home which made her feel slightly relieved. With the phone back safely in her handbag Laurie prepared to enter down to the dark street, planning to run almost all the way along it.
Her tiny feet powered down the cobbles of the alley, the exertion of such
swift movement making her breath come in short, sharp gasps, but still Laurie didn’t stop. She didn’t like the darkness or the confined space of the alley. She was so lost in her sprint that she didn’t notice the shadowy figure appear at the far end of the alley, disguised by the dark and blocking her immediate exit.
With about ten feet to go, Laurie sensed the presence of another and looked up and stopped abruptly, her feet almost skidding beneath her. The lack of light made it hard to discern if it were a man or a woman up ahead, but whoever it was stood blocking the end of the alley with a stance which hinted at malicious intent.
Fearful, Laurie turned and began to retrace her steps back up the alley, in her mind resolving to just call a taxi as soon as she was back beneath the street lamp. Perhaps she would go all the way back to work and wait for the taxi there with the night guard to watch over her.
Glancing back, Laurie noticed that the shadowy figure had been lost to the darkness and she wondered if she had imagined them altogether. But she wasn’t prepared to go back and find out, so she carried on. She was almost out of the alley when the gunshot blasted through the night, shattering the silence in its attempt to reach her soul.
Some sort of innate animal instinct forced Laurie to the ground, her face against the cobbles. Her body shook with what she took to be fear but it soon became apparent it was shock. She felt the warm hot trickle of blood began to fall down her face and then the searing pain from her right ear surged throughout her body. Laurie gasped at the realisation that she had been shot. She remained still on the ground for a few moments in the hope that whoever had shot at her would believe her incapacitated and their work done. When she could wait no more, Laurie scrambled to her feet and ran out of the alley, her blood now trickling down and soaking her coat and clothes.
Panting, Laurie stood at the end of the alley, shock clouding her judgement. Adrenaline was surging through her veins, urging her to just keep running until her legs collapsed beneath her. But even in her shocked state she knew that was foolish. She needed to call someone; needed to get to somewhere safe.
Tentatively, Laurie raised a hand to her right ear. The instant her fingertips connected to one of the ribbons which had once formed part of the upper cartilage, thunderbolts of pain shot through her body. She immediately retracted her hand which was now painted crimson with her own blood. She regarded it with strange interest, for a moment feeling surreally detached from the whole situation. Then her fight-or-flight hardwiring kicked in once more and hurriedly she retrieved her mobile phone from her bag.
Stood beneath the street lamp, she held her phone in her shaking hand, hesitating on who exactly she should call. The obvious answer was the emergency services, but Laurie wanted to see a familiar face, not be swept up into a sea of strangers. Her family weren’t an option. Back home was too far away, it would be hours before they reached her and whoever had shot at her might well return by then to complete the job.
There was only one person Laurie felt she could call. Even though she was still reluctant to trust him implicitly, she knew that he would come and she knew that he would care. Laurie struggled to dial the number, her fingers proving almost useless from the amount they continued to shake. At last she was able to press the green button and the call connected.
Laurie had lost all concept of time; she only knew that the hour was late. If she allowed herself to dwell on it she assumed it was near eleven. The majority of people would be sleeping, preparing themselves for the following working day. She could only hope that the Deputy Prime Minister was not.
After three rings Charles answered, his voice thankfully bright and alert.
‘Laurie?’ he whispered with nervous excitement.
‘Help me!’ Laurie blurted out in a state of panic, tears forming in her eyes and falling down her cheeks, washing away some of the blood which was there.
‘Help you?’ Charles asked, confused. ‘What’s wrong?’ There was immediately concern in his voice which offered Laurie some comfort.
‘I’ve been shot!’
‘Shot? What? Oh my God, are you alright? Do you need an ambulance?’ Charles asked these questions as he was already pulling on his clothes, preparing to leave his house.
‘No, no. They missed me, well they got my ear. I just …’ Laurie tried to find the words to convey how she was feeling whilst trying to suppress the mounting sense of terror growing within her. ‘I need you.’ The plea was simple and heartfelt. Charles knew that this was his chance, his opportunity for redemption. He had failed to be there for Lorna when she needed him most, he would not let Laurie down too.
‘Where are you?’ Charles grabbed his car keys as he asked the question and opened his front door, not caring for any noise he created in the process.
‘I’m …’ glancing around Laurie tried to gain some clarity and relay her location. It was no good, the street seemed unfamiliar and there was no sign within her peripheral vision to help her place herself. Then, vaguely she recalled that The 10 Stop was just down the next street, and that it was open twenty-four hours a day, which was the norm for London but incredibly obscure to outsiders like Laurie. She remembered noting the sign on the café’s door and pondering on who would ever want to visit the place in the small hours of the morning. Then again, the people who went at that time were probably of a salubrious nature.
But The 10 Stop would be warm, light and full of people. Laurie didn’t want to wait for Charles out on the street alone, a target just waiting for a second shot, which may well not miss this time.
‘The 10 Stop, do you know it?’
‘What?’ Charles was now backing off his drive, his limbs easily remembering the logistics of driving even though it had been a considerable length of time since he had been behind the wheel.
‘It’s a little café, near Downing Street.’ Laurie suddenly felt extremely lucid as she felt a plan formulating. Her mind was already mapping out the exact route she would have to take to reach The 10 Stop, and bizarrely she found herself wondering if she had enough change in her coat pocket for a cup of tea.
‘Yes, I know where you mean, I’ve driven past there a couple of times.’
‘Well, I’ll meet you in there,’ Laurie explained. Then, with an edge of uncertainty she asked, ‘How long will you be?’
‘I’m on my way now,’ Charles replied. ‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes at the very most.’
‘Thank you,’ Laurie said into her phone and then disconnected the call, cutting off Charles as he relayed the last part of his message to her.
‘I love you,’ Charles told the empty car, disheartened to realise that Laurie had already hung up.
Laurie began to walk towards The 10 Stop and safety. She felt light-headed as she navigated the dark and deserted streets of London, no doubt due to the amount of blood she had lost. Her ear continued to throb with a warm discomfort which told her that it was still bleeding out, which wasn’t a good sign. Once she was with Charles she would have to go to the hospital. Laurie was so consumed by her own thoughts that she failed to notice that the shadowy figure from the alley had returned and was now following her.
Chapter Fourteen
When you can’t see for looking
It had been a considerable number of years since Charles Lloyd had driven a car. When he lived in central London, there was no need to drive due to the abundance of public transportation options. Then, when he assumed the role of Deputy Prime Minister, it was no longer a viable option for him to risk driving himself around and he was assigned Henry, his driver.
But as the ability to swim lies dormant in the mind until needed, so does the function of driving. Charles easily navigated between gears and sped through the suburbs, his heart racing.
His own personal car was a black Mercedes-Benz. It was top of the line and, Charles felt, completely pretentious. The car had been a gift from Elaine’s side of the family when he became Deputy Prime Minister. At the time, he did ponder on what a strange choice of gift it wa
s as he would have little use for it in his new political capacity. And so Elaine had inherited the vehicle, which Charles imagined had been her family’s intention with the gift all along.
Not that Elaine ever drove the Mercedes herself. Apparently the two litre engine was ‘far too much to expect a lady to manoeuvre’. And so she had hired her own driver. Or rather, there had been a succession of drivers employed because, sooner of later, they said something out of turn and annoyed Elaine to the point where she refused to be in the same car as them. Charles never got into the details of these frays; he merely agreed to let her appoint a new driver. He knew his wife and how difficult she could be.
As the Mercedes drew closer to the city-centre, the buildings which lined the streets grew in height and felt as though were encroaching in upon the vehicle. Charles had never noticed before how suffocating London could be. Despite the late hour, there were people wandering along the pavement. The lights from various cafes and nightclubs spilled out into the night, giving the darkness an eerie, artificial glow.
Charles tried to concentrate on the task at hand. City driving was difficult, even on roads which were almost deserted. There was a maze of interlinking streets and one-way systems to navigate with the added obstacles of numerous roundabouts, pelican crossings and red light systems. The Deputy Prime Minister began to feel overwhelmed. In his current state, his mind had gone into autopilot and plotted the route he had seen Henry drive so many times before, but now he was close to his destination and panic started to set in, disrupting his thought process.
His biggest fear was finding the nearest hospital. Charles had no concept as to the extent of the wounds Laurie had sustained. If she needed immediate help she would be relying on him to get her to the hospital. There was a built in satellite navigation system in the Mercedes, but Charles had no idea how to sync it all up.
As he drove, Charles kept a keen eye on the time. The digital clock on the dashboard told him that it had been fifteen minutes since Laurie had called. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time, each minute was precious.
