Chapter 21 December 21st #2
I tiptoe across the snow and stamp my heels on the mat just inside the doors of my building, noting it’s quiet in the foyer.
When I make it up to our floor, it’s no different.
A ghost town. I pass Debbie’s empty desk and push my way into my office, dropping my bag on the chair and shrugging off my coat, hanging it on the hook, then I make my way to the kitchen to get a coffee.
I don’t see one person on my way, and the kitchen is empty too.
I scroll through my emails while I wait for the machine to spit out my caffeine, and sip on my way back, flagging and deleting as I work my way through my inbox.
The elevator doors open as I’m passing, and Thomas’s son steps off. “Morning, Anthony,” I say out of politeness, rolling my eyes when he grunts his reply.
“So what lucky company will have the pleasure of Camryn Moore next?” he asks, stopping me in my tracks.
“I’m not following.” I face him. Face his smarmy, smug face.
“We’ve sold up, Camryn, which means you’re out of a job.”
What?
“And it isn’t your boyfriend who bought us, but well done on your efforts to help him sabotage the deal.” He smiles wide. “Merry Christmas, Camryn.” Off he goes, an irritating, cocky swagger to his stride as he whistles his way to his office.
“Fuck,” I whisper, deflating on the spot. Out of a job. Endless days killing time. Nothing to distract myself.
Feeling like I’ve got bricks in my heels, I go back to my office and lower to my chair, staring at the screen of my computer, wondering . . . what now?
The door swings open, halting my thoughts in their tracks, and Anthony swans in, a box in his hand.
He places it neatly on my desk, still smiling like a psycho.
“You’re welcome,” he singsongs, turning but stopping on a theatrical, “Oh!” He pulls something out from his back pocket—a pile of papers—and slaps them on my desk.
“I’ve highlighted the vacancies that I thought were a good match for your skillset.
” He leaves, slamming the door so hard it shakes on its hinges.
I pull the papers forward and scan the highlighted vacancies.
Pot washer. Road Sweeper. Cleaner for the public toilets across various city parks. Chicken plucker.
“Prick,” I mutter, shoving the papers away and slumping back in my chair. My phone dings, and I swipe it up, softening the moment I see the message from Dec. It’s a picture of Albi in the boardroom in his policeman costume. Head of the table.
How’s your day going?
I laugh under my breath. But stop. Does Dec know he’s failed to secure the deal with TF Shipping? I contemplate asking, my thumbs hovering over the screen of my phone, but think better of it, dropping it to my desk and blowing out my exasperation. No job. What the hell am I going to do?
Pulling open the drawers on my desk, I start to empty them of my personal things, dropping it all in the box.
Deflated. I failed to get TF Shipping ready for the team to come in and prepare it for debut on the market.
I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. The odds were against me, but I’ve never failed. It’s a smear on my CV I don’t need.
A familiar knock sounds on the door. “Come in, Thomas,” I say tiredly, surprised once again he’s sought me out. “I suppose I should congratulate you on the sale,” I say flatly, making his eyebrows jump up. “Anthony wasn’t at all creaming his pants when he shared the news.”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “I told him I wanted to tell you.”
“A lot sure did happen while I was off for two whole days.”
“Are you feeling better?”
I toss my paperweight into the box. “Much, thanks.” I rest my palms on the edge of my desk and lean on them. “I had no idea who Dec was when I met him.” Not that it matters now, since he’s failed to buy the company. “And I know he’s told you man to man he wasn’t fishing.”
“He knew what he was doing.”
“You think he planned to . . . what? Seduce me?”
“If the boot fits.”
“It doesn’t.” I drop a pile of pens into the box. They’re not technically mine, but I have no pens and . . . fuck him. “I want a decent reference.”
“I don’t think so.” Anthony laughs, appearing behind Thomas.
It takes what little energy I have in this moment to stop myself from reacting in a wholly inappropriate manner to his apparent satisfaction.
“Look,” I breathe, “Dec Ellis drove the price down because he’s a smart businessman and he made sure he knew what state your company is in and what he was purchasing.
I don’t know who’s come along and bought TF Shipping, or why they have, given the financial state of it.
I can only assume they haven’t done their due diligence and you haven’t been transparent, but—” But what?
What am I going to do? Rat them out? Find out who’s bought TF Shipping and call them to make sure they know what they’re letting themselves in for?
For what purpose? Self-satisfaction? To have the last laugh?
Am I about to threaten them to get that good reference?
No. I don’t need to. Karma will do all the work. I take a breath and stand taller, reaching for my coat and pulling it on. “I hope you both have a lovely Christmas with your family.”
“Oh, we will, won’t we, Dad? We’re looking at a family holiday to Mauritius, five-star, first class.”
“Maybe don’t put that on the company card,” I quip, smiling sweetly as I claim my box of things. Thomas moves to allow me past, but Anthony does not, meaning I have to shuffle by carefully so there’s no contact. He makes my skin crawl.
“Ms. Moore?”
I look up to find the two officers who came to my apartment standing outside the elevator. Jones and Hyde. “Hi,” I say, as they both look at the box in my arms. “I just lost my job.”
“Oh,” Hyde says, “I’m sorry to hear that,”
“Don’t be, it was time for me to move on. How can I help you?”
“We wondered if we might show you something?” Jones asks, approaching. I can feel Thomas and Anthony behind me, interested.
“I’d ask you to come into my office but it’s not mine anymore.”
“Take it,” Thomas says, moving aside and sweeping his arm out.
“No, it’s fine, I can talk to them at h—”
“Just take the office, Camryn,” Thomas says, almost sternly, motioning back into the room.
“Okay.” I reverse my steps, frowning at Thomas as I pass. He looks stressed. “Come in,” I say to the officers, and they join me.
As does Anthony. “Since you’re on our premises,” he says, helping himself to a chair and getting comfortable.
I scowl at the prick. “This is Thomas Fryer, my boss. And his son, Anthony.”
“What’s this all about, then?” Anthony looks at me with too much interest, no doubt hoping he’s about to get some dirt.
“Anthony,” Thomas says in warning. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
He holds his hand up, silently silencing his father, and Thomas throws me a look full of apology.
“Shall we?” Hyde asks, eying Anthony.
“Sure.”
Jones approaches me with an iPad and taps at the screen a few times before showing it to me. I withdraw when I see myself on the screen walking through the dark street in the snow. “The footage is very clear,” she says.
“I can see,” I murmur.
“Thanks to the snow. You mentioned you didn’t get a look or even a glimpse of the man in question.”
“He was wearing black. And a hood.”
“Man in question?” Thomas asks. “What’s happened, Camryn?”
Jones glances at me, and I shake my head mildly. “I was attacked.”
His eyes fall to my cheek, and I shrink a little. “You told me—”
“I know what I told you, Thomas.”
Jones hums, tapping at the screen again and pulling my attention back there. “This is a few minutes before.”
“That’s outside this building.”
“Not so random after all,” she says, changing the screen again. “This is a close-up.”
“Are you kidding?” I blurt out, getting closer to the screen.
“Do you know him?” Hyde asks.
“Yes, I know him.” I look at Thomas. “It’s Phillip West.”
He balks and joins us, having a peek himself. “Jesus,” he breathes. “Camryn fired him.”
“For?” Jones asks.
“He filed a false accusation against another staff member,” Thomas says, shaking his head, his eyes still on the screen.
“His wife,” I add. “He was trying to get her fired. From what I understand, he’s met someone else and wants Meredith out of his life in all capacities.
” I falter, more words waiting to spill out, but I’m not sure I should share, given Meredith told me in confidence.
And do I need to? No. “He claimed she got aggressive with him one evening in the office when everyone stayed behind to have drinks. We had evidence that proved it was actually the other way round.”
“Right.” Hyde looks at Thomas. “I’m going to need a name and an address.”
“You’re going to arrest a man a few days before Christmas?” Anthony asks, sounding truly flabbergasted. “Based on a few shots from CCTV that put him on a different street a few minutes before Camryn was jumped?”
“The evidence is sufficient,” Hyde retorts, clipped, going back to Thomas. “Name and address.”
Thomas seems lost in a daze, staring forward.
“Sir?”
He snaps out of it, casting a sorry gaze my way. “I’m sorry, Camryn.”
“I fired him, Thomas,” I say tiredly.
“Yes, but I should have fired him first, save you doing it, then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Sir, I’m going to need that address.”
“Yes, right, sure. Follow me.” Thomas turns and leaves, and the officers follow.
“We’ll be in touch. You’ll be required to come down to the station to do a formal statement.”
I nod, a little struck, having to perch on the edge of my desk, my legs wobbly, as Anthony follows them out. I remain where I am for a while, my mind racing, until I see the officers boarding the elevator with their name and address. Phillip West?
My mobile rings, knocking me out of my daze, and I answer on a murmured, “Hello.” unable to muster the strength or effort to sound okay, although I’m quite sure I don’t want to tell Dec about Phillip West.
“What’s up?” he asks, sounding anxious.