The Magpies A Psychological Thriller - By Mark Edwards Page 0,95
baby, can’t we? Can’t we? And this time we’ll be somewhere safe.’
She pressed her face against his shoulder.
‘Yes. We will.’
I’m going to make this place safe, he thought. And then we’ll try again.
He drove Kirsty to the hospital, then on to work. His knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel so tightly. He had the radio up loud. The people outside the car – walking along the streets, coming out of shops, getting off buses – seemed like phantoms, blurs of pink and brown, colours running into one another, like rain on a chalk pavement drawing. The music was loud but he couldn’t hear the tune; the lyrics were a babble. It was just noise.
He strode into the building, into the lift, up to the fourth floor. He looked at himself in the lift’s mirror. His face was the colour of undercooked fish; his hair was sticking up in tufts; his tie was crooked, his shirt only half tucked in. He ran a hand through his hair, tried to straighten his tie. It was a half-hearted attempt, and a second later the lift chimed to announce its arrival at his floor. He stood there for a second, looking out. Everyone seemed very busy, moving around in fast-motion, industrious worker bees droning among the humming computers. Above the hum, Jamie could hear the cries of the baby from last night, a sound buried at the back of his brain, pulsing beneath the surface of his skull. How could they have done it? How could anyone be that sick, that cruel? He felt anger boil up inside him again. He breathed deeply.
There was Mike, sitting at his desk, sorting through his in-tray. Jamie strode over to him.
‘Mike.’
He looked up. ‘Jamie, hi. I didn’t think you’d be in today. Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine.’
Mike didn’t let him speak. ‘It’s all been going on around here. The takeover’s been finalised. It’s happened already. The new manager’s been brought in and George Banks has been given the push, with a nice pay-off I expect. After all that rumour and build-up, it practically happened overnight, like some sort of military coup. Still, they say we won’t be affected much.’
Jamie had lost the thread of his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak but his brain couldn’t formulate a sentence.
Mike continued: ‘Hey you know I thought it would be Software Logistics who took over? I was wrong. It’s actually Scion.’
‘Mike, have you…’ he stopped, suddenly realising what Mike had said. He stared at him. ‘Did you say Scion?’
‘Yes. Apparently they’re a really good firm to–’
‘Scion?’
‘Christ, Jamie, that’s what I said. Hey look there’s our new manager now.’
He nodded towards the far side of the room and Jamie turned and followed his gaze. He watched Chris come out of the manager’s office and look around, a proprietary smile on his face.
Jamie’s knees buckled. He sat down.
Oh. Jesus.
Almost before he had touched the seat, he was up again. He grabbed Mike’s upper arm. ‘I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you now.’
‘Alright. Calm down, Jamie. I’ll go into the gents, you follow. OK? Count to ten before you follow. I don’t want people to think we’re going in together.’
Jamie watched Mike push open the door of the gents. He was trembling. He couldn’t bear to look back over at Chris, though he knew Chris was looking at him: he could feel his stare drilling into him. He started to count to ten, but got lost around six. He hurried over to the gents, aware of Chris’s gaze following him. It felt like a laser, burning the back of his head. He could almost smell the smoke and the singed hair.
Mike was standing by the washbasins, inspecting his hair in the mirror.
‘Jamie, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, mate.’
Jamie didn’t speak.
‘It’s OK. I’ve checked the cubicles, there’s no-one in there. We’re alright to talk. I know what you want to talk to me about. I haven’t been able to get hold of my mates, though I left a message saying I had a job for them. I’ll try again tonight.’
‘That’s him.’
‘Who? What are you talking about?’
‘The new manager. It’s him. Chris Newton. My neighbour.’
‘Chris?’ His jaw dropped. ‘You’re joking.’
‘No. He works for Scion. I bet – he must be behind the whole takeover.’
‘Jesus.’
Mike walked over and put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. ‘In that case, I’m going to have to call my friends off.’