Chapter 14
Hamilton is the ninth-largest town in Scotland, so you’d think that was a big enough place, but it’s not.
News travels fast here. If you’re in tenth and below, I actually dread to think how hard maintaining a private life must be.
I’m not thinking this because of the kiss, by the way.
Me and Gavin have rearranged ourselves, wiped one another from our lips and calmed down enough to get back to work.
The reason I’m dwelling on Hamilton’s size is because, as soon as we get back to the office, Brian knows about the body and whose it is.
I’m still on the street, one foot on the pavement, the other on the grey carpet tiles of the office, Gavin in front of me, my eyes lined up to their back. I can’t even see Brian when he shouts, ‘Willie the Wanker is dead.’
Once I’m inside properly I find Brian leaning back in my chair, his feet crossed on the corner of my desk, holding one of the little European lagers he stores in the communal fridge, alongside champagne, for special occasions.
Willie’s death is worthy of some celebration, but not the popping of a cork.
Gavin removes their jacket next to their desk.
I make a conscious choice not to look over, not to glance at their trousers to see if they are still as aroused as I am.
It wouldn’t do to appear lusty when a death is being discussed, not when I have playing dumb to do.
‘Jesus, what is happening today? There’s been a body found in the park, too. ’
Brian looks very pleased as this cues him up nicely to reveal: ‘That dead body and Willie are one and the same. Word on the street, well, from my wife, is that he had an accident, fell into the river that runs through the park and drowned.’
Gavin absorbs the information and I pretend to.
They place their coat over the back of their chair, settle into their seat.
I hover over my desk, eyeing the precarious position Brian has put himself in, his feet dangerously close to the glass of water I pour each morning, determined to be better hydrated, and then never drink more than a few sips of throughout the day.
‘How did Leanne find all this out?’ Gavin asks. I notice they’re not looking at me either, their gaze solidly on Brian. This sixth sense I’ve developed with Gavin since Willie’s death continues. I am confident it is residual horniness and not regret keeping their eyes away from me.
‘She’s pals with Willie’s wife. She rang her in some state after the police had been round.
’ Brian swigs his beer, revealing the twist in the tale which has led to him celebrating.
‘The best bit is he’s not finished the paperwork to leave us.
So after all his screaming and shouting, AAA get nothing and we keep our sweet, sweet commission. ’
Gavin makes a sound from the back of their throat, then says, ‘The best bit? A man is dead and you’ve found the “best bit” before he’s even cold.’ For the first time since our kiss Gavin looks at me, seeking backup. Their wide eyes ask, Can you believe him?
Unluckily for them, I can believe him, and for obvious reasons I’m not sad at all. ‘I’m sure it’s really awful for his family, but he wasn’t a great human, was he?’
Brian takes this as a win. ‘See, Jemma gets it.’ He nods his bottle towards me in recognition. ‘You can have a wee lager to pay our respects to a not-great human.’
He doesn’t need to tell me I can drink at work twice. I’m off as soon as he says a beer is mine. ‘What about you, Gavin? Fancy one?’
‘Whoah, Gavin is not permitted a drink until they acknowledge Willie was a wanker.’
Looking at Brian resolutely, they sigh. ‘Well, obviously he was a knob. That doesn’t stop it being sad.’
The addition of sadness doesn’t convince me Brian will relent, but he does. ‘We’ll have to agree to disagree, Gav – you are now permitted your beer.’
The office kitchen resembles every other office kitchen in the world: bad strip lighting, a sad little fridge, a microwave that hums of reheated curries from years ago.
Bending down to the fridge, I catch a whiff of a new smell from my skin.
It’s floral and sweet – Gavin’s perfume has transferred onto me from our kiss.
I bite my lip to stop myself from smirking, pick two of the beers from the back of the shelf and am getting off my haunches when Brian shouts through, ‘While you’re there, can you get me another? ’
When we each have a bottle in our clutches, Brian prompts a toast: ‘To Willie’s accident, another perfect property solution.’ After he raises the bottle to his lips he’s unable to drink as he’s laughing to himself at his funny, funny toast.
Gavin finds it less amusing. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t be toasting this turn of events, Brian. That’s two landlords you’ve lost over the course of two weeks. If they keep dying at this rate you’ll be managing zero properties by the new year.’
Brian slams his bottle down. ‘That’s an interesting point. I don’t think anyone we work with has died before and then two at once. That’s mad, isn’t it?’
Not wanting us to linger on this topic, I try to get us back on track for a celebratory mood. ‘Statistically, someone had to die eventually. It’s good news the properties stay here.’
Brian doesn’t fall in line with what I want to happen, though.
‘It’s you, Jemma. That’s what the change has been.
Colin was always an idiot doing his shitey repair jobs, but the one that killed him was Jemma’s.
Then she speaks to Willie that day he came to take me out to dump me, and now he’s deid. Jemma’s the new thing.’
To say I am stunned is an understatement.
Brian, this absolute weapon of a man, has figured me out with barely any thought whatsoever.
If he can get it, then surely the police won’t be far behind.
I try to go back through how it played out this morning to reassure myself there is no evidence.
There’s not, I’m sure there’s not, but then I was certain things would go to plan and that wasn’t exactly the case, was it?
Fuck. Too many seconds have passed. Brian looks at me expecting a reply.
‘Aye, I’m so powerful I make folk electrocute themselves and induce heart attacks in men who wrong the agency. You should be very afraid, Brian.’
He chuckles at that. ‘I’ve got my eye on you.’ Then he gives me a wee wink to prove this is banter, in case his tone wasn’t enough.
Even quieter than my laughter is Gavin speaking. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’ I ask.
‘Colin wasn’t an idiot.’ Their fingers are stripping their lager of its label.
‘You’re right, big guy. Excuse me, big person.
Colin was alright. I’m sorry he went like that.
’ First Brian surprises me with figuring me out, now with his emotional intelligence.
‘Although he did always do shitey repair jobs if he could. Mind when he ended up soaking himself through trying to fix a shower in one of his places? Ended up having to get professional cleaners in because of the piss-wet-through mess he left behind.’
They both laugh, but I can’t say I find the idea of my landlord coming in and making the problem a hundred times worse then leaving my home minging enough for cleaners to be required particularly funny.
Brian asks me, ‘How much do you know about Colin?’
‘Absolutely nothing.’ My intuition tells me this is not the time to tack on, ‘And why would I need to know any more? He’s dead, and that seems like as much information as I require.’ Talking about landlords been and gone is a waste of time. I am future looking.
Brian wants to wallow in the good old days of Colin breathing and being a pest, though.
‘Well, because he was an accountant he liked to keep track of every penny, and you had to prise any outgoings from him like Excalibur from the stone. Which would lead to him being soaking man and ruining his own carpets…’
‘Or there was that time he tried to plaster where a leak had been and got it all wrong. Everything he’d put on the ceiling fell on the tenant’s face while they were sleeping. Can you imagine?’
This is horrifying to me, but not to Gavin and Brian, who chuckle.
‘And what, you let him continue to terrorise his tenants until he died in front of me?’
Gavin shakes their head. ‘No, no. I think the plaster incident was when we formally stepped in and said he had to stop doing the repairs or he could get sued. I certainly didn’t think he’d come out of retirement for some electrical work.
Might have had something to do with having to pay legal fees because a disgruntled ex-tenant was going after him. ’
Quite desperately, I want to shift away from Colin. The more I hear the angrier I’m getting. ‘Brian, I meant to tell you, I ate a frog this morning. It was a really helpful technique. I can totally see how it’ll transform how I tackle tasks. Thank you for sharing it with me.’
‘That’s brilliant. Always happy to hear when the stuff I find beneficial is helping my staff.’
‘If there’s anything else you’d recommend, I’d love to read it.’
Without saying a word, he vacates my seat and goes back to his office.
While he’s audibly rooting around his bookshelf, Gavin whispers, ‘Kiss arse,’ and I’ve no idea if they’re serious or not and don’t have time to decide because before I know it Brian is right next to me.
He hands me the shape book from my interview, the cover of it featuring very 90s clip art pictures of all the shapes in primary colours.
‘As a triangle, you’ll really enjoy diving into this and finding out more.’
Opening it up, I notice he’s written Property of Brian Devlin on the title page like he had on the frog book, too.
I flick through the pages, stopping on one that summarises what each shape means.
Squares like Gavin are logical and organised.
Triangles are confident and focused. Squiggles like Brian are creative forces and chaotic to be around. So far, so accurate.
When the beers are finished, we all resume the pretence of work until clocking-off time.
The beer has made me lethargic. I can’t be arsed even putting on a display of work, and double-checking Brian’s fake life tallies across all his devices and apps can wait, so I read the book instead.
The more I take in about triangles, the more I believe I actually am one.
I can be impatient and don’t enjoy listening to opposing points of view.
And I hated that Brian, of all people, got so close to figuring out what happened to Willie.
That last bit is not in the book, obviously.
It’s just what’s going through my mind. I have to make sure no squiggles or anyone else can ever link me to Willie or whoever I decide to target next.
I need to do more, I just have to be sensible about it.