by Ben Ryder
Chapter One
Tuesday April 22nd 2014 7:10 a.m. M ORNING light streamed through the windows, and Callum Walker’s eyes opened with a start. He wasn’t sure what time he’d managed to fool his mind into getting a couple of hours of sleep, but the surge of excitement that had kept him up raced through his body again.
He jumped from the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants and socks, then walked across his bedroom to peer out the window. There was a patchy charcoal sky over London, the kind that made the stereotypes of his city ring true. Ordinarily, this kind of weather would give him a chill, since he knew there was a good chance he’d get caught in a heavy spring downpour. But not today. No threatening, damp sky could touch his mood.
Callum had taken the day off work, as he figured he’d be fairly useless in the office. His boss, Ian, hadn’t complained—and nor would he. Callum was too valuable and brought in far too much revenue for Ian not to grant his undemanding star a break. Besides, Callum had been working in Toronto for the past sixteen weeks, so Ian was hardly in a position to deny him a day off to catch up.
With a spring in his step, Callum took the stairs by twos down into the living room. He switched on the TV and turned up the volume, hoping a little distraction would help make the minutes go faster. The sounds of the morning news program filled the room as he headed into the kitchen.
“Coming up in the next hour, we’ll be speaking to the founder of the charity FreeAfrica, who is seeking to expand availability of the recently discovered HIV vaccine to developing nations. Then we’ll be joined by our foreign affairs correspondent, Barry Clifton, who will walk us through the timeline of what led to the conflict in Iran and the impending third Gulf War. Then, shifting gears, we’ll delve into the latest celebrity gossip files, including reports of a new mystery lady in the life of action star Mason Russell. Will the young lady accompany him tonight to the premiere of his new film in London? But before all that, let’s have a roundup of today’s headlines and weather.”
Callum retrieved the eggs, bacon, and milk from the fridge, then pulled the frying pan out of the cupboard and set about making his breakfast. He sang and bobbed his head along to a song that had been stuck in his head over the past four days, ever since he’d heard it in the taxi on the way home from Heathrow airport. It was an upbeat and positive song, which matched his mood perfectly. Callum stabbed a couple of cooked bacon strips from the pan and laid them on a paper towel to cool.
He slid across the kitchen floor in his socks, with a slight wiggle of a dance, and picked up the dog bowl sitting next to the fridge. Callum filled it with dry dog food from the cupboard. With the bacon cool enough to handle, he tore it into smaller pieces and, like a thousand times before, he dropped it on top of the dog’s food. She loved bacon on her food in the morning, and was so spoiled by it she wouldn’t eat without it.
“Kodak! Bacon!” he called in a quick, excited voice. She would still be on his bed, nestled in and sleeping until he hollered for her.
Callum turned back to the stove and tipped his scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate, his ass bopping to the beat on constant replay in his head.
“Ko!” he called again before setting his plate on the small table in his kitchen where he ate every morning before work. He leaned back on the chair and watched the hallway, waiting to hear paws come galloping down the stairs, her chocolate-colored furry face bounding toward the kitchen. But he didn’t hear anything.
It took a moment, but then he remembered. The sledgehammer of grief hit him square in the stomach. She wasn’t there. He’d been back in his own home for just a few days, after four months away, and was returning to a morning routine he cherished. But it wasn’t necessary anymore.
Callum picked up the dog bowl and dropped it into the trash bin like he should have done the day he returned. He was determined not to make the same painful mistake again.
He stared at the upturned bowl in the trash for a moment and then shook his head, as though trying to lift the fog. He returned to his breakfast, actively willing himself back into a good mood. The happier he was, the more positive he would become, and the quicker the news would come.
After wolfing down the rest of his breakfast, Callum took a long shower. It killed some time but didn’t really make much of a dent in his morning. He wouldn’t find out anything until after lunchtime, at the earliest, so Callum took more time than usual getting ready. He wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror, set the razor against the top of his cheek, and slowly dragged it down the black stubble to get the smoothest shave he could.
Callum was twenty-eight years old, with a lean, muscular build, and he had the advantage of going from rough construction worker to preppy jock in the time it took to get a clean shave. Today he would look smart and dress in his best suit. Somehow, he felt it might make a difference in the day’s outcome.
He grabbed his keys and an umbrella, then walked out of the house and started his way to Wimbledon station. His black shoes clipped on the pavement and his smart suit instantly made him walk taller. He needed this feeling of confidence, perhaps today more than ever.
C ALLUMwas used to wearing a suit. He’d been a software designer ever since he left college. While others in his field felt more comfortable in a pair of khakis and a casual shirt, he had always gone for a more professional, polished look. His reputation had rocketed after he designed the communications software for London’s new Wembley Stadium in 2007. Though he was early in his career, he already had the entire software world angling to steal him away from Ian’s company, Alphatech, for his expertise. When Alphatech pitched his design and bid on the contract for the comms suite at Toronto’s new Maple Arena, it was accepted, but only on the condition that Callum would be directly involved with the installation. The software had the capability of controlling the entire communications network, from the booking agents to the public address system and everything in-between. The early development of the project was done with his team in London, but Callum was required to fly to and remain in Canada for sixteen weeks, until the software went live, to ensure he was on-site if any problems arose.
When Callum arrived in Toronto seventeen weeks ago, he was surprised he wasn’t met by Michael Weiss, the executive he’d dealt with during the contract negotiations and software development. Instead, a sharply dressed, attractive blonde woman in her midtwenties stood holding a sign bearing his name as he came down the airport escalator. At first, he thought Taylorfield, the corporation that owned the arena, had purposefully sent a pretty face to welcome him. But it soon became clear she was a sharp and keen executive who held the keys to his life for the next four months.
“Mr. Walker, I’m Amy Clarkson,” she said, extending her hand.
“Please, it’s Callum,” he said as he began to follow her out of the terminal and toward the car park. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Callum. We’re so happy to have you onboard with our project. You have quite a stellar reputation when it comes to programming.”
Callum laughed with a little embarrassment. He never took a compliment well. “Thank you for saying that. It’s very kind of you.”
“Michael says that Alphatech came very highly recommended. Have you worked on many projects this size?” “A few. Wembley Stadium was the biggest so far, but we’ve put in a bid for the 2016 Olympics in Rio. It’ll be huge if we’re lucky enough to win it.”
In the parking lot, Amy struggled to find the right button on her overflowing key ring. “I wish the company could have gotten me a smaller car. This thing is like driving a tank!” she said, becoming a little flustered. She gave Callum an innocent smile. “Is there any chance you can put those in the back seat? I can’t figure out how to open the trunk.”
She had a very slight build, so Ca
llum gladly hoisted his heavy luggage into the back of the Chrysler and shut the door. “Thank you! You’re so big and strong! I could never have managed them!” she said, belying her executive demeanor for a moment.
“How was your flight?” Amy asked in casual conversation as they drove toward the city. “Good, thanks. Though, to be honest, I’m looking forward to getting my head down and having a decent night’s sleep.”
“Then you’ll love where we’ve set you up. You’ll be staying in The Spire. It’s a newly-built executive housing unit and hotel on the grounds of the complex. It’s just a short walk from the new arena. For now, it’s home to all the outof-town contract workers involved with the arena until its completion. You’ll have full access to all amenities, as well as free membership to the gym and spa that recently opened on the complex for the duration of your stay.”
As the car travelled through the streets, Amy gave a history of the old arena, which would still be in use until the new one was finished nearby.
“Exactly how far along has the construction come?” Callum asked as he watched the buildings of the city of Toronto rise against a crisp blue sky.
“It’s nearly done. The structure, restaurants, bars, and new parking facilities are finished. The seating and flooring of the arena have been laid and look fantastic, though you can’t see the floor at the moment as the rink is down. We still have to install the various screens and projection units. Arnold, the entertainment software contractor dealing with things like the Jumbotron, arrived yesterday.”
“Which company did you go with for that?”
“Tronphonics,” she said.
“I’m not familiar with them. Will this Arnold guy be dealing with Michael Weiss too?” “No, I’m kind of Michael’s counterpart. He dealt with the bids on comms, parking facilities, and franchises for the new restaurants, bars, and stores. I handled those for the entertainment software, building, and construction bids. Michael still works at the old arena, so you and Arnold will be dealing mostly with me, since I’m based at the new one, where you’ll be working.”
“This must have been quite a stressful year for you guys. Building a new one while the other is still in use must have meant a lot of back and forth.”
Amy let out a short whistle and nodded. “It has been, but it will look incredible once it’s opened. We think it’ll stand as one of, if not the best in the world.”
The car rounded a corner, and Callum got his first glimpse of the magnificent new arena. He thought Amy was right to boast. He was impressed by the fresh, futuristic design. It had smooth curves with brilliant white and pale blue facades that were flanked by bright lights shining behind translucent glass, giving the structure the look of a peaceful alien mothership.
The surrounding complex was just as impressive and was obviously well designed to draw the public toward the area. The entire area had the freshness of a new mini-city: clean, gum-free sidewalks, lampposts and benches so new they looked polished, and bars and restaurants with windows that sparkled with brand new glass. Even the trash cans looked as though they were designed to fit the aesthetic of the architect’s vision. In the distance, Callum could see where the old arena still stood, looking an eyesore in comparison.
“Welcome to The Spire,” Amy said as they pulled alongside a twenty-story building that stood opposite the wide pedestrian area outside the arena. She pulled a thick padded envelope from her bag and handed it to him. “This is for you. Inside, you’ll find a map of the complex, a company contact list, a local cell phone, your membership card for the gym and spa, and, of course, the keys to your apartment. The executive suites are on the top five floors, so you’ll have a great view.”
Callum was still taking in the modern building through the tinted window of the sedan. “It looks fantastic. You say it’s a hotel too?”
“Yes, the company built it directly opposite the arena to cash in on the new way of selling tickets to sport and music events. Since so many ticket operators now offer package deals that include accommodation, it made sense.”
“Sounds like a great idea.” Amy winked. “Thanks, it was mine. It’s only been up for a few months. You’ll be the first person to stay in your suite, so we hope we’ve got everything right for you to enjoy your stay here.”
Callum shook Amy’s hand, then dragged his oversized suitcase from the back seat and made his way into the building. The key card granted him access through the large glass doors, and a doorman nodded politely as he passed the concierge desk. Callum found his way to the elevators and tapped the floor for his suite.
After he found the right suite Callum slid the key into the door and then stepped into his temporary new home. It was an open plan apartment with a decent-sized kitchen that led into a fully furnished living room. To the right was a separate and spacious bedroom that led to an en suite bathroom, complete with soaking tub and separate glasswalled shower. The place was larger than he expected and had a modern décor.
He thought sixteen weeks in Toronto would suit him just fine.
Chapter Two
8:45 a.m. C ALLUMshuffled through the rush hour crowds at London’s Wimbledon train station, and turned from side to side to let commuters who looked like they were in a hurry go past. Any other day, he would be of the “eat or be eaten” mindset, trying to battle his way to the platform. But today, he enjoyed the luxury of not being in a rush. In fact, allowing people to go ahead of him while offering a polite smile as they passed made him even more cheerful.
He stood with his back to the platform wall, waiting for the train to arrive, and felt his phone buzz. He instantly knew it wasn’t the call he was waiting for—it was way too early—but his heart still flipped in his chest. He pulled his phone from his pocket and the flutter stopped when he saw it was his mother calling.
“Hello, dear, just wanted to catch you before you arrived at your office. Your father and I are having a small dinner party with the Davidsons and the Langmaids this weekend and we want you to come along.”
Callum drew a deep breath. “I’m not too sure about that, Mum.”
“Why ever not? We haven’t seen you for months. You haven’t so much as visited since you’ve been back.” “I’ve only been back a few days. I’m not sure I’ll be in the mood.” “Oh good grief, you’re not still moping around about Kodak, are you?” she asked exasperatedly. “I know it was sad, but honestly, Callum, you really do need to get over it. She was only a dog, for heaven’s sake.”
“Mum, the train has just arrived so I might lose my sig—” Callum pressed the End Call icon on his phone and slipped it back in his pocket.
You’re not going to get to me today, old woman, he thought as he once again trained his mind to be positive. Callum knew he’d have to convince himself to be positive to get through the day. Otherwise, the waiting would be more than he could bear.
C ALLUM spent the first few days in Toronto learning the layout of the arena, conducting the initial tests of the software, and meeting his temporary colleagues. Amy remained by his side to answer questions, as well as ask some of her own. The builders were working on the far side of the complex on a new outdoor public ice rink, so the arena was empty, apart from the technical contractors and various executives who remained on-site. Callum had the same eerie feeling he felt at Wembley Stadium when the builders were gone and the massive construction was empty. With no buffer, the echoes of every footstep or call were amplified, giving the feeling he was working in a huge cave.
The only time there was constant noise was around 1:00 p.m., when the chorus of the hockey team’s voices shouting directions at one another rippled off the walls and through the halls. The Bobcats practiced every day in the new arena, as it was soon to be their team’s home, but still played their matches at the old stadium until the completion of the new one. Though he hadn’t had a chance to see them, their hollers gave the arena a breath of life.
Callum was given a temporary office next to what would become the building’s contro
l center. He’d met a few of his coworkers, including Arnold, the entertainment software contractor who occupied an office down the hall.
Arnold was an oddly tall, wiry man with a pinched, rosacea-cheeked face. His comb-over, thick glasses, and skittish demeanor gave him the look of a middle-aged man who hadn’t quite gotten over years of being bullied in his youth. Despite his friendly attempts to engage Arnold, Callum felt their conversations were stilted and awkward. Arnold clearly preferred working alone and had no intention of developing any kind of office relationship with anyone other than Amy, who, as the contract manager, he felt he had to report to on a daily basis.
The long hours of orientation in the first week made Callum feel sluggish. He sat in conference rooms and listened for hours as other contractors explained their roles in the new arena. It was Friday before Callum had the opportunity to stand and give a presentation of his own. The introduction went well, and everyone seemed adequately impressed with his design.
Once he’d cleared the first hurdle, and since his muscles were stiff from sitting in meetings for so long, he decided to tour the nearby gym facilities. He followed behind a fresh-faced young girl named Lena, who spoke with enthusiasm about the newly-opened gym and its amenities.
“This is the cardio area. As you can see, we have the latest treadmills, elliptical machines, and ski runners,” Lena told him as they walked around the open plan gym. As they passed through, Callum identified the usual gym-goers who could have frequented any other in the world.
The workout machines were being used by the older members, who wanted to remain in shape without the threat of doing themselves too much damage. The cardio machines were occupied by people who obviously didn’t need to lose weight but did it for the endorphin high. The padded floor of the abdominal area was covered by women who looked like they had just finished a yoga class, each one appearing calm and relaxed. The free weight area had the usual mix of young, skinny kids desperately trying to build men’s bodies, toned men training for some kind of athletic event, and, of course, the steroid abusers walking around with aggressive looks on their faces like everyone was in their way.