by Helen Harper
‘I’m not finished!’ I yelled. A shadow flickered at the edges of my vision and I turned towards it in the vague hope that it was something I could cling on to. I couldn’t leave yet; I’d not accomplished anything. Coffee didn’t fucking count, whether I’d remember to include sugar or not. Unfortunately for me, however, it was already too late to even see who or what the shadow was. Within mere moments I was back in the shiny brilliance of the Metafora room. My shoulders fell. I’d not had lunch yet and I’d already failed miserably. Great.
Chapter Eight
I was too miserable to want to talk to anyone. Through a stumbling process of trial and error, not to mention my sense of smell, which was amazingly still working despite the best efforts of Luke Wells’ breath and body odour to send all my olfactory skills into extinction, I located the staff canteen on the floor below the main office. Quite a large number of other faery godmothers were present. Alicia was there, still surrounded by a crowd of well-wishers worried about her state of mind. I clenched my jaw and turned away. Not a single person had inquired after my mental health and I’d been the faery who had actually handled the severed ear box in the first place. But then I was a failure. Why would they care about me? Then I thought about how I had no damn right to complain about anything when five faery godmothers had been abducted and possibly murdered and felt horrifically guilty. I was far too mired in my own misery when far worse things were happening around me.
I caught Angela’s eye in the corner, sitting with a few other faces I recognized from the HR office. She watched me for a moment and then bent her head to the person next to her, her lips moving. A second later there was a burst of uproarious laughter and her colleague glanced in my direction with unchecked amusement. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue at them, feeling more dejected. This was far from the triumphant first day I’d envisaged for myself.
Ignoring the salad bar and tantalizing selection of different breads and cheeses, I instead walked straight up to the rosy cheeked woman standing behind the counter.
‘I want a fish finger sandwich,’ I declared in a loud voice. ‘With salad cream.’
‘I’m not sure we have that,’ she began, before taking note of my expression. She offered me a sympathetic glance which was somehow worse than the snarky looks from everyone else. ‘I’ll see what I can rustle up,’ she said. ‘Take a seat.’
I shuffled over to the nearest empty table and sat down with a heavy thump. What I wanted to do was to lay my head in my arms and have a good cry. I wouldn’t give my new co-workers the satisfaction of seeing me like that though. I looked down, picking at a small bubble in the dappled formica. No shiny marble here, I thought sourly.
‘Just because the Devil’s Advocate has left the building,’ a voice said over me, ‘doesn’t mean you shouldn’t maintain good posture. Faery godmothers are supposed to look proud, official and straight-backed at all times. You don’t want to have to end up in Occupational Health. It’ll count against you if you do.’
I squinted up at Billy. ‘It’ll count against me if I become sick? How’s that fair?’
He gave me a blank look in return. ‘What does fair have to do with it?’ He began to shuffle away.
‘Hang on,’ I muttered. ‘You can sit here if you like. There’s plenty of room. You can tell me more about all the rules.’
Billy sniffed loudly. ‘If you insist. I know them all. You’d do well to pay attention to what I say.’ He twisted back and took the chair opposite me, its legs groaning as they took his weight. He dropped a bag in front of him and opened it up, pulling out a cellophane wrapped sandwich and a shiny apple. Before he’d even unwrapped the sandwich, I could tell that it was egg mayonnaise.
Bully pointed to a sign on the wall. ‘If you’ve got a problem with what I’m eating,’ he said through a mouthful, ‘then it’s rotten eggs for you.’
I glanced round and read the sign: Any Complaints About Other Employees’ Food Choices Are To Be Withheld. I raised an eyebrow. ‘Your doing, I presume?’
I caught the faintest answering twinkle in his eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with egg mayonnaise,’ he said. ‘S’good protein.’
I nodded. I liked a good egg sandwich myself. ‘Indeed.’
The dinner lady appeared at my shoulder, laying a plate in front of me. She gave me a smile before walking off again. Billy gestured at it. ‘What’s that?’
‘Fish finger sandwich,’ I said. I picked the first half up and bit into it. It might not be the canteen’s normal fair but it tasted damn good. ‘With extra salad cream.’
Billy grunted. ‘Good stuff.’
I chewed for a few moments and then leaned forward. ‘Why do you do it?’ I asked.
‘Do what?’
‘Act like the world’s most annoying jobsworth,’ I said. ‘It obviously doesn’t gain you any friends, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here with me. Doesn’t it get tiring keeping up that pretense of believing in every daft rule and regulation in this place? You’re not the person you’re pretending to be. Either you’re some kind of bizarre masochist or there’s something else going on.’
Billy stared at me. He slowly laid his half eaten sandwich down and dropped his head a fraction. Was he mortally offended or simply stunned? He remained unmoving for so long that I waved a hand in front of his eyes to check that he was still conscious. He blinked and shook himself. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said. ‘Saffron Sawyer is smarter than she looks.’
I grinned. ‘I knew it.’
‘Six years.’ He tapped his fingers on the table top. ‘Six years I’ve been here and no-one has ever called me out. The Director suspects but she would never be sure enough to accuse me anything. You’ve been here six hours.’ His mouth tightened. ‘Is this a lucky guess or did I do something to give the game away?’
I shrugged. ‘Your lack of self-awareness is too stubborn to be anything other than faked.’ I gave him a curious look. ‘Why do it?’
Various emotions flitted across his face. Clearly, he was trying to decide whether he could trust me or not. I’d leave it up to him to decide. Eventually, he offered me a rueful smile of admiration and raised his shoulders in a semi shrug. ‘No-one is indispensable. I don’t have the magic skills to be a faery godmother and, honestly, I don’t really want to be one either. I don’t like other people all that much.’ He hesitated and then inhaled deeply. ‘Do you know what it’s like for someone like me though? A faery who’s not on the front line or who doesn’t come from an established family? If any of that lot over there took a disliking to me, I could be out on my ear before you could say employment tribunal. I’m not important like they are. Or like you are.’ His eyes took on a distant look. ‘I can be dismissed in a heartbeat. But I believe in the work that is done here, regardless of how it’s conducted. And I need the money. I made the decision when I first stepped into this building that either I live every day knowing I’m on borrowed time or I could turn myself into the sort of person who everyone else is afraid to cross.’
I was beginning to understand. ‘You can’t fire the person who knows all the rules and knows who’s breaking them.’
Billy grinned. ‘I have a little black book. I make notes in it all the time.’ He jerked his head at the other tables, filled with other faeries. ‘It keeps them on their toes.’
‘Doesn’t it get tiring putting on an act all the time?’
He chuckled. ‘We all put on an act. Mine is just more dramatic than everyone else’s.’ He winked. ‘And surprisingly more fun too.’ His fingers twitched and his expression sobered. ‘Are you going to give me away?’
‘No.’
Billy watched me thoughtfully for a moment. ‘You were very bouncy and bubbly this morning. A few minutes ago you looked like you wanted to top yourself. I know about what happened with Lydia’s ear. But I saw your face right after that happened and you look far more depressed now than then. What’s happened since? Is it to do with Rupert?’ He frowned. ‘He’s not the sort of faery you
want to get involved with. He has a rather unsavoury reputation, you know.’
‘I figured that already,’ I told him. ‘I was pandering to his ego this morning. It seemed a wise thing to do.’ I gave him a pointed look. ‘Not unlike what you yourself do with everyone around here.’
‘So this isn’t about him, then what is it?’ he probed. I sighed and looked away. Billy reached across and took my hand, squeezing it. ‘You already know my secret,’ he said simply. ‘I’ll keep yours.’
I bit my lip. I could do with a friendly ear – not to mention someone who knew all about the nuts and bolts of this place. I wouldn’t get much help from any other quarter. I shrugged to myself. Then I told him what had happened with Luke. ‘I was so sure I would be brilliant at this,’ I said. ‘I was a fucking great dope faery. I thought I was going to be great at this as well. I know I can’t expect to be amazing right from the get go but I didn’t expect to fail quite so spectacularly. I can cope with faeries like Alicia or with daft rules and dafter uniforms. I can’t cope with my own work being crap too.’
Billy interrupted. ‘No-one actually wears that cloak when they’re out working.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘No shit. It’s incredibly uncomfortable.’
‘And it looks stupid,’ he added matter-of-factly.
I let out a burst of laughter. ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘That too.’ I sighed again. ‘Even if I had to wear it every day though, I’d manage. What I can’t manage is failing at this. I want to be the best. But I’m not. I’m just rubbish.’
Billy picked up his sandwich again and began chewing thoughtfully. ‘Have they told you yet why you’re really here?’ he asked through a mouthful.
I stiffened. ‘No. But given the ear I all but threw at the Director, it doesn’t take a genius to work out that I’m here to make up the numbers because the office is starting look dangerously empty. I’m also well aware there’s still more going on that I don’t know about. The Devil’s Advocate would have told me more but the Director shoved me out of the room before he could say anything.’ I raised an eyebrow in his direction. ‘I’d hazard a guess,’ I said, ‘that my presence here has got more to do with those disappearances than the office being short-staffed. I can’t believe that five damn faeries have gone missing and outside of this office no-one knows about it.’
‘Yeah.’ He sighed. ‘We ‘re not supposed to talk to you about it either.’
‘And you’re a stickler for the rules.’
That elicited a faint smile from him. ‘In theory.’
‘I’ve already heard a fair amount,’ I told him. ‘My desk buddy likes to gossip.’
Billy laughed slightly. ‘I’d have been disappointed if you’d worked me out and not done the same with Delilah. You can’t keep anything secret while she’s about. I imagine she’s also one of the reasons why we’ve not been given the full story about the disappearances. Despite the interrogations.’
More intrigued now than merely miserable, I leaned forward. ‘Interrogations?’
‘Everyone in the office has been interviewed,’ he told me. ‘Every single person. The Devil’s Advocate spoke to us all and,’ he gave a delicate shudder, ‘it wasn’t pleasant. They clearly think that the disappearances are some sort of inside job.’
Delilah had also suggested that was the case. ‘Why?’ I asked, grimly fascinated.
‘Every godmother who disappeared was supposedly out on a job when they vanished. Only someone in this office would know their whereabouts.’
I felt sick. ‘Oh, man.’ Just what sort of place was this?
‘There was also a staff meeting last week,’ Billy continued, ‘where all was supposedly revealed. The disappearances and the subsequent questioning have everyone on edge, you understand. All the godmothers are looking around at each other and wondering who will be next and who is responsible. Adeline and the Director presented a united front and pretended that we weren’t all under suspicion. Then they told us that they would recruit more godmothers from outside the usual ranks. First of all, because we were already short-staffed even before those five vanished. Second of all, because the current crop are deemed to be less ‘street-wise’,’ he drew quotation marks in the air, ‘than some of the other faeries in other departments.’
‘Like me,’ I said.
‘Yep.’ He swallowed another mouthful. ‘I should add that streetwise was their word, not mine. The faeries around here might come across as privileged little fucks but you’d be surprised at their abundance of experience in different arenas. They’re not all naïve little angels.’
‘That much I also worked out,’ I murmured. I lifted my chin. ‘So as an ex-dope faery, I’m considered more capable of defending myself against a potential abduction than others might be.’ I could feel my spirits sink further. I really hadn’t made it here as a result of my own merits then.
‘Do you think it’s true?’ Billy asked, genuinely curious. ‘Are you tougher?’
I shrugged. ‘Potentially. I suppose it remains to be seen.’ I scrunched up my nose. ‘You know, you’re not cheering me up very much.’
‘The point I was making,’ he said, ‘was that nobody actually expects you to rock being a faery godmother. They’re all expecting you to be shit. HR are pissed off that they have to spend time training you. The other faery godmothers won’t take anything you say or do seriously. Some probably think you’re a spy sent to find out which one of us is abducting our colleagues.’
I curled my hands tightly together. ‘When in truth I’m here to make up numbers and put my fists up in a fight if it comes to it.’
He nodded. ‘That’s the official line.’
‘So,’ I asked quietly, ‘what’s the unofficial line?’
He gazed at me with a somber air. ‘Are you sure you want to know this?’
My answer was firm and instantaneous. ‘Yes.’
‘This is only conjecture, you understand. Admittedly, my conjecture based on what little whispers I’ve managed to pick up from around the place but it doesn’t have any concrete underpinnings. If I’m right, the powers that be won’t want anyone in the office to know the truth.’
I didn’t look away. ‘Spit it out. Spit out this truth.’
‘You’re bait.’ Billy said it with an air of depressing finality.
‘Bait?’
‘You don’t come from an important faery family. If you go missing like the others, there will be less … ruckus caused as a result.’
I clenched my fists together, forgetting that I had part of my fish finger sandwich in my left hand. It crumbled into fishy bits which scattered across the table top. ‘I’m expendable.’
He at least looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Not entirely. But you’re less,’ he hesitated slightly, ‘vital than others. In some faeries’ eyes,’ he added hastily. ‘Rupert normally does most of the client assignments but he’s not done your ones, no matter what else he might say. Your list has come down from on high. It’s no smoking gun but when you take that little fact along with everything else…’
‘I’m being dangled out there in particularly visible spots in the hopes that the kidnapper will make another move.’
‘That’s what I believe. You’ll probably be followed every time you head out to meet a client. Discreetly of course. They won’t want to give the game away.’
I thought about the flickering shadow just as I’d been yanked away from Luke Wells. Everything was suddenly starting to make more sense. ‘They’ll be pissed off if I’m not the next one to go missing then,’ I said. I was trying very hard to remain seated. What I wanted was to stand up and start throwing things around the room. Heavy things. For reasons I couldn’t fully articulate, I was particularly annoyed that the Devil’s Advocate was clearly in on this plan. I’d thought he’d seemed like a decent bloke. Instead, he was treating me like I was nothing more than a tasty worm dangling on the end of a faery fishing line.
Billy gave me a sympathetic look. ‘Don’t take it personally.’
He pursed his lips. ‘You’ve been chosen because they think you can take care of yourself. You’ve not been chosen because they think you have untapped talents for wish fulfillment.’
‘So what you’re saying is that I shouldn’t beat myself up for being shit.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I should wait instead for the boogeyman to come along so he can beat me up and slice off my ears in the process.’ I said the last part flippantly but my own choice of words gave me pause.
‘What is it?’ Billy asked. ‘You look like you’ve thought of something.’
‘It’s been known to happen,’ I said. Not that most people around here would think I was capable of sentient thought.
‘It might not be true, you know,’ he reminded me. ‘You might not be here as bait at all.’
I smiled. I didn’t need a mirror to know that it didn’t reach my eyes. I pulled my shoulders back and raised my chin. I certainly didn’t feel happy but there was a flicker of renewed self interest and purpose deep in the pit of my stomach. That had to count for something. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’d better try and find out for sure then.’
Chapter Nine
The office was considerably emptier after lunch, with the vast majority of godmothers making use of the Metafora room to head out and meet clients. I still couldn’t prevent myself from looking round at everyone and wondering if one of my new colleagues was behind the abductions. Then I shook myself. No wonder everyone was on edge and unhappy. Everyone was suspicious of everyone else. Whether I knew any of them or not, the more I thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed that another faery godmother was behind all this. It was too … pat. I sighed loudly then busied myself moving the various boxes from my desk to satisfy Adeline’s need for cleanliness until the opportunity I was waiting for presented itself. The very moment I spotted Rupert heading into the galley kitchen to make himself a coffee, I grabbed my own mug and strode in after him. I acted as if I were caught up in my own thoughts, only glancing towards him when he said hello.
