‘Get that camera out of here! Stop filming! Police, stop filming!’
An angry face, neck and top of a bulletproof vest filled the screen before the view swung down to show hay-strewn concrete. Then the shot cut back to the live feed of Shobha Sharma standing groomed and poised in her pastel green trench coat.
‘The police ordered my crew and I to leave the property, but we were able to get some footage of what happened next.’
Again, the barn was the focus of the shot but this time from a distance, with foliage at the bottom of the frame as if the camera operator was crouching behind a hedge. Figures emerged from the building surrounded by police and Shobha’s voice could be heard in voiceover.
‘We are unable to identify everyone in this shot, but what we can be sure of is that both Mr and Mrs Thatcher, who have been missing, appear to be safe and well. Isadora Faye, CEO of Acorn Consulting, looks to be in police custody.’
Handcuffs were visible on Isadora’s wrists as a police officer helped her climb into the back of the van.
Shobha’s concerned expression filled the screen once more and the shot pulled back to reveal the barns behind her as she finished her report. All but one of the police vans had left and police tape was set up around the perimeter of the building.
‘Today we’re one step closer to unravelling the mystery of the Acorn Consulting kidnappings. Stay tuned to West Country Tonight for more updates. This is Shobha Sharma reporting.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Theresa, Bella and the others drove straight back to AC with the cupuli and called everyone into the OAK auditorium. Looking at the haggard faces around her Bella could see many people looked exhausted, their nerves on edge. Some were still relatively well-kempt, but the majority looked as though they’d spent several years being held hostage in a cave. Evidence of a new development had filled them with hope and anticipation. Had Isadora been found? Was she dead? Either way, would they be able to go home?
Theresa stepped onto the stage.
‘Friends and colleagues. It grieves me to tell you that Isadora Faye is in police custody, along with Arran Finn, Catherine Knight and The Librarian. It grieves me further to tell you that I expect them all to be charged with serious offences. I don’t want to say more until we’ve had confirmation from the police and from Ben Elliott who is managing the situation with the authorities.’ She paused for a few moments to allow the initial burst of consternation to die down. ‘On a more positive note,’ she called, lifting a hand for silence and raising her voice, ‘I’m delighted to tell you that our colleague Teddy Thatcher has been found safe and well, along with his wife Maggie.’
‘Where were they?’ shouted someone in the front row.
‘They were at a farm a few miles from here.’
‘What has Isadora done?’ someone else wanted to know.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t say any more for the time being. I want you to know the board and I are beyond grateful for your patience while you were held here. I know you must be desperate to get home, which you are now free to do. I promise the board will be holding a detailed enquiry into what happened and you will be given a full account in the next few days. Please take the rest of today off and enjoy some time at home with your families. You’ve earned it!’
Bella could see from the puzzled looks and shaking of heads that her colleagues were frustrated with the lack of information, but the relief of being able to go home ultimately overcame everything else. The auditorium emptied in minutes and only she, Theresa, Oscar, Lauren and the others from the bunker remained. Theresa contemplated them from her vantage point on the main stage as they sat, scattered across the front rows of the auditorium like the exhausted stalwarts at an all-night charity improv marathon.
She smiled. ‘Well, you guys all look like shit, if you don’t mind me saying. I’m planning a hot bath and then a king-size sleep in a king-size bed. I recommend a similar itinerary for the rest of you. Ben’s going to message me with any updates and I’ll let you all know as soon as there’s news. Now get outta here, I don’t want to see your faces until tomorrow.’
Bella experienced the familiar little lift of pleasure as her Alfa crested the hill two weeks later and the sprawling stone mansion came into view. On a whim, she brought the car to a halt, letting the engine idle as her eyes roamed across the building in front of her. She’d always loved the elegance of its lines, but today it struck her that the symmetry of the many windows and chimneys of the AC house was a homage to that found in nature – the mathematical perfection of shells and flowers. Isadora’s ancestors, and their architects, had tried to mimic the natural world in their man-made construction. Which was ironic, when you thought about it, given that OAK had tried to put a man-made spin on a natural occurrence.
She remembered the very first time she’d made this journey, all those months ago, and her gaze switched to the manicured lawns and parterres surrounding the house. If someone had stopped her here, on that first trip, and told her what lay hidden underneath them, would she have continued on her way to the interview?
Bella snorted. To be honest, she probably would have done. It would have sounded too outlandish to be true – only the most dyed-in-the-wool conspiracy theorist could believe that this bastion of English gentility hid beneath it a high-tech, top-secret organisation which had infiltrated two continents and impacted the oblivious public on a daily basis. Particularly as she saw it today, its pristine walls and mullioned windows gleaming bright among the green; a gaggle of geese on the lake mirroring the white flecks of clouds in the otherwise clear blue sky.
She put the car back into drive and set off down the hill, her heart beating a little faster as she remembered the part she had to play in today’s event. The view before her was no longer centre stage as her thoughts turned inward, running through mental notes, practising certain phrases. Ben had wanted them all to be involved – her, Lauren, Oscar… all of them. He wanted them to have a role in sharing the new vision. Normally, preparing to speak in public would be the cue for What Others Might Think of Her to pounce, but that creature was absent, Bella was pleased to discover. In fact, its hateful form crept up on her less and less often these days, and even when it did materialise in her peripheral vision it sat placidly on its haunches, wearing a collar and lead. Something about dealing with matters of life and death had put the spectre of possible social embarrassment in perspective, perhaps. Or maybe having her own instincts proved right had made her less concerned with the opinions of others. Or perhaps, at the most basic level, she’d learnt that looking stupid wouldn’t kill her.
After the arrest of Isadora and her accomplices, AC had continued to operate, but OAK had been mothballed for a couple of weeks to give Theresa, Ben and the board time to make new plans.
Walking back in through the main doors today Bella was aware of a buzz about the place. People congregated in little knots in the entrance hall, swapping notes on the various rumours of what was going to be revealed in the all-staff meeting that morning.
Oscar waved her over. They’d swapped the odd message in the past fortnight but hadn’t seen each other out of work, nor had she seen much of Lauren or Ben. Bella had gone away at the weekend, spending time with her parents and Zoe. She’d needed to immerse herself in normality after the frenzy of the past few days and weeks.
‘Ready for your big moment?’ Oscar asked as she joined him and Lauren at the foot of the staircase. His tone was a little too casual, as if he’d rehearsed that line; getting in first with a jokey comment before she could say anything. She decided to play along.
‘I’ve practised it all apart from the lift at the end, I was hoping you could help me with that. You’ve seen Dirty Dancing, right?’ enquired Bella.
‘Nobody puts Bella in the corner,’ confirmed Oscar.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing that, you two,’ laughed Lauren as she glanced at her watch. ‘Speaking of which we’d better be getting down there.’
The audito
rium was overflowing, every seat taken and people pressed together by the doors and sitting in the gangways. Bella, from her chair on stage between Oscar and Lauren, squinted against the glare of the footlights and tried not to think about how far the rows of seats stretched into the darkness beyond; how many pairs of ears would be listening to her in a few minutes’ time.
She was aware of a ripple of noise around the room and then applause broke out as Ben jogged up the steps onto the stage.
‘Good morning.’ He waited for the applause to die away. This was corporate Ben again. Not a well-cut hair out of place, tailored suit showing off his athletic build to perfection. Bella found herself thinking she preferred the dishevelled Ben of the underground bunker. ‘Good morning and thanks for your patience over the past couple of weeks. I’m sorry it’s taken a while to call this meeting. We wanted to be able to share full details of what we hope the OAK Institute can evolve into with your help, and that took a little time to prepare.’
He took a step to the side and indicated the row of occupied chairs set at an angle across the stage. ‘As you know, the board have appointed me CEO, but the only way I’ll be able to lead this organisation into the future is through a team effort, which is why I’ve asked some of your colleagues to come and help me share the vision.’ Two chairs at the end of the row were empty and Ben walked across to stand behind them, a hand on the back of each. ‘To kick us off, I’d like you to welcome two very special guests – Teddy and Maggie Thatcher.’
A spotlight flicked on by one of the doorways, illuminating an uncertain-looking Teddy and Maggie with her hand to her eyes to shield them from the light. People started clapping and cheering and within moments the whole auditorium was on its feet as the pair stumbled across the floor towards the stage. Ben bounded down the steps to help them climb up.
‘Teddy and Maggie, everyone,’ he said, straining to be heard above the roar. Leaving Teddy standing in the middle of the stage he led a reluctant Maggie to her seat next to Lauren.
‘Teddy has been the catalyst for OAK’s change in direction,’ Ben said, as he rejoined the terrified-looking man in the middle of the stage, ‘so I wanted him to be the one to kick off proceedings.’ Giving him a reassuring pat on the back, he said, ‘Teddy, we’re all here to listen to your story. Tell us about the expansion data you unearthed.’
Forty minutes later and the ordeal for those on stage was almost over. Teddy had started hesitantly enough, facing the crowd as if they were a firing squad, but with Ben’s encouragement, he’d stuttered his way through the revelation of the US expansion data. Ben had brought the others in like the conductor of an orchestra – now inviting Theresa to share restructure plans, now handing over to James for an overview of the new security operation. As Bella’s turn drew closer, her heartbeat reverberated through her chest, as if she was leaning against an amplifier with the bass turned up. She sipped from the bottle of water in her hand to try and relieve the dryness in her throat – until she started feeling like she might need the loo, and the thought of having to excuse herself and dart offstage at the crucial moment made her set the bottle down at her feet.
In the end, and despite all appearances to the contrary, she found herself enjoying the limelight. After a husky start, she recovered her voice and relayed their revamped OAK marketing strategy to the packed room. Her ten minutes were over just as she was getting into her stride.
‘And that about brings you up to date,’ Ben concluded, as Bella retook her seat. ‘What you’ve heard here this morning is a lot to take in, I know. This organisation, which was launched and run with the best intentions, has been demonstrated as doing the opposite of what it was set up to achieve. People don’t need a corporate organisation to do their kindnesses for them.’
He paused there, letting his words sink in. The pause lasted so long that low-level murmurs started to grow in volume, like the approaching hum of a swarm of insects.
‘This doesn’t mean,’ he continued, his words stopping the hum dead, ‘that we should close OAK down. We still believe in the power of kindness. We still believe in our motto.’ He opened his arms towards them and as he said the first word the whole room joined in as one, the massed voices almost musical as they rolled around the great, darkened space. ‘A single act of kindness may change a day, a life, the world. Kindness is powerful. OAK is mighty.’
Applause broke out – heartfelt and sustained. Tears welled in Bella’s eyes and as she turned her head, she could see moisture glistening on Lauren’s cheeks.
‘OAK will live on, but we’ll take a new direction. Yes, retraining will be required, yes, massive efforts will be needed in terms of adapting processes, systems, personnel and equipment. But I hope that all of you will come on this journey with me to build something that we can be proud of, and something which, for the first time, we don’t have to keep secret!’
The room rose to its feet and Ben stood stock-still as they applauded him. ‘We’ll break here for lunch, and then at two o’clock I’d like to invite you to join me in the gardens for a press conference and the official launch party of the all-new Organised Acts of Kindness Institute!’
He gave a signal and gold and silver oak leaves fluttered down from the darkness above their heads, shimmering in the coloured lights that spun around the room. Around the auditorium, people cheered until their voices echoed off the ceiling.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘I’d like to say something,’ announced Maggie to the banks of photographers, reporters and TV crews assembled in front of the long narrow table behind which she sat, alongside Ben and Teddy. Not getting an immediate response, she pulled one of the tabletop microphones towards her across the green felt cloth. ‘Listen to me!’ she yelled, her words half obliterated by an ear-splitting squeal of feedback. The sound technician rushed forward and fiddled with the microphone.
Bella’s eyes flicked to Ben’s face and saw something like horror pass across it, but the expression was gone almost before she registered it.
‘Of course,’ he agreed. ‘Mrs Thatcher has been appointed a trustee of our new charitable organisation in recognition of her contributions. We’d be delighted if you would share a few thoughts on your appointment, Maggie, before we fill everyone in on our plans.’ He smiled out at the reporters and, behind them, the ranks of Acorn Consulting employees on the lawns under the bunting and Chinese lanterns, champagne glasses in hand.
Beside her, Bella sensed Lauren stiffen and even the unflappable Theresa could be seen to tighten her grip on her plate of canapés.
‘I’ve…’ Maggie started, before being distracted by a waiter passing by with a tray of drinks. ‘You there!’ she bellowed through the microphone, causing the startled waiter to throw his tray into the air and catch it again minus several glasses. ‘Dubonnet on the rocks!’ Maggie turned back to the audience. ‘I’ve got something to say about Acorns. Nasty place, it used to be. With that woman in charge, going round, telling lies and sucking people in.’ Teddy placed a restraining hand on her arm. She patted it reassuringly. ‘But it’s different now. That’s what I wanted to say. You can trust them now, that’s what my Teddy says and I believe him.’
In the front row, a manicured hand with pillar-box red nails shot into the air.
Maggie nodded. ‘Have you got a question, dear?’
‘Shobha Sharma, West Country Tonight,’ said the owner of the immaculate nails. ‘What’s happened to change your mind about Acorn Consulting, Mrs Thatcher? When we last spoke, before you disappeared, you were vocal in your criticism of this company and its employees.’
Maggie stared at her. ‘She’s gone, hasn’t she, like I said? That manipulating old bitch-bag! She was the bad blood poisoning it all. Good riddance to bad rubbish, that’s what I say!’ concluded Maggie, sitting back and giving the microphone a shove that brought the technician running again.
‘Thank you, Maggie,’ said Ben. ‘Was that everything?’
She shook her head and leaned towards the micr
ophone. ‘I’m still waiting for my Dubonnet!’
Polite laughter greeted this pronouncement and after beckoning a waiter over and muttering something in his ear, Ben turned back to the audience.
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the press, friends from the local community, and Acorn Consulting employees – welcome. Acorn Consulting has gone through some turbulent times. Our previous CEO and three of our ex-colleagues are currently in police custody awaiting trial on serious charges. As an organisation, we’ve been through a lot, but I’m here to say that it won’t break us. Acorn Consulting’s board has drawn up an action plan to take the business through this difficult period and on to a new course. I’m delighted to say that my peers have appointed me chief executive officer, which is a role I’m humbled and honoured to accept.
‘One of my first tasks as CEO is to rebuild trust in AC and to demonstrate that we are an organisation that believes in having a positive impact on the world around us. That’s why I’m delighted to announce that we are launching a charitable foundation, to be known as the Organised Acts of Kindness Institute – or OAK, for short.’
He paused and acknowledged the applause from the press and others gathered on the lawn in front of him.
‘Our name in recent weeks has been associated with unkindness and deceit thanks to the actions of our ex-colleagues. OAK will counteract that. We commit to investing ten per cent of AC’s profits each year into running the Institute, as well as carrying out other fundraising activities to add to its coffers.
‘OAK will be a facilitator for kindness. I genuinely believe – no, more than that, I know – that most people are inherently kind. Set aside a few bad apples and most of us, left to our own devices, are motivated to help others. If you don’t believe me, think about the last time you saw an old lady slip over in the street, say, or spotted a child in a shop looking for its lost parent. Was your impetus to help, or to walk away?’
Acts of Kindness Page 22