Gripping Thrillers

by Iain Rob Wright

  “Tell me about it! It’s so cliquey at work. You, Maggie, and all the sales guys speak your own language. I swear I catch you laughing at me sometimes.”

  “What? You’re paranoid, Cher.” He gave her a warm smile to back up his claim, drilling into her with those deep brown eyes again. “No one laughs at you.”

  She frowned, wondering if it was true. Was she paranoid? It had certainly been a while since she’d trusted anyone. Losing her dad so suddenly had made the thought of relying on anyone too much to bear. “Really? It’s in my head?”

  “Absolutely. You’re right though, it is cliquey at work. You can thank Maggie for that. I don’t think she ever means it, but she can be a real bitch.”

  Cheryl laughed again, and this time didn’t stop herself. “She’s like the office mean girl — all smiles to your face and frowns at the back of your head. She kind of intimidates me.”

  Leo looked away from the road again, and it appeared he was weighing up whether to say something. “You know she and John were a thing for a while, right? He even paid for those fun bags of hers. ‘Christmas Bonus’, he put it down as.”

  “I’ve heard rumours they used to be an item, but I try not to involve myself in that type of talk.”

  At least when it involves my boss.

  “Yeah, me too, usually, but when it comes to people getting their rocks off, I like to know all the gory details. With diagrams if possible.”

  Cheryl grimaced, but ended up chuckling. “You’re such a perv.”

  Leo kept talking. “Apparently, John came on a little strong, so Maggie broke it off. That’s what she told me, anyway.”

  Cheryl folded her hands in her lap and tried to resist getting drawn into gossip, but she feared that if she didn’t, the conversation would turn awkward again. “Aren’t they both married?”

  Leo beeped his horn as somebody, who must have been going a hundred miles an hour, cut in front of them from the right-hand lane. The conversation fizzled as Leo was forced to concentrate on the road so Cheryl listened to the radio for a while. The DJ was running a call-in about football, which instantly made her think about her dad again. They had held twin season tickets each year, and gone to support their team at every home game. Back then, she would’ve described herself as an avid football fan, but now she realised it had been the time spent with him that she had loved. Her interest in football had died with him.

  Another twenty minutes passed, and then Leo turned off the main highway and entered a narrow access road that rapidly turned from tarmac to gravel. They followed that for ten minutes until they spotted a group of ramshackle farm buildings.

  Cheryl leaned forward in her seat, trying to get a better view through the windshield. “D’you think this is the place?”

  Leo tapped his slender fingers on top of the steering wheel and peered out of his side window as they trundled along the gravel road. “According to the Sat Nav, it is. I was expecting something a little more… less of a farm.”

  “Yeah, me too. Then again, lots of farms have petting zoos and stuff attached nowadays, don’t they?Maybe there’s not enough money in just being a farm anymore. It’s sad.”

  “Blame the supermarkets for putting the squeeze on agricultural profits.”

  “Seriously, is that the reason?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. Did it make me sound smart?”

  “Um, not anymore…”

  Leo pulled the car into a muddy patch outside a steel shack full of hay, and they both spotted the bonnet of John Alscon’s silver Bentley peeking out from the other side of the bales. Each morning, when Cheryl passed the luxury motor parked outside the office, she thought it was boxy and ugly — not something she would spend money on even if she had it — but she supposed the main thing was the badge on the bonnet.

  Leo brought his car to a stop and yanked the handbrake which made a loud kwunk! Then he switched off the engine and gurned at Cheryl. “Time to get this party started, Cher-bear!”

  She couldn’t help but loose a smile. He was taking this so seriously, like he planned on making it the best weekend ever. “Just behave yourself,” she told him. “Or we’ll leave you behind in the escape room.”

  “You’ll be begging to stay with me by tonight, I promise.”

  “Keep dreaming.”

  Both chuckling, they exited the car and stepped into the mud. Cheryl wished she’d worn boots instead of the gleaming white trainers she’d chosen in anticipation of being indoors. The last thing she needed was an embarrassing slip in front of her colleagues. As her mother had warned, it was chilly, and she had to pull her denim jacket tightly around herself to keep warm. She let out an obligatory, Brrr!

  John emerged from behind his Bentley, dressed in a Burberry jacket and matching flat cap. He waved to greet them, but then stopped and frowned. “Cheryl? What are you doing here?”

  She cleared her throat and fidgeted with the buttons on her denim cuff. “Um, didn’t Maggie tell you? She couldn’t make it.”

  John’s frown lingered a moment more before he glanced to the side. “But Maggie’s right here.”

  Maggie stepped out from behind the Bentley, dressed in purple furry boots, purple furry coat, and purple furry hat. She appeared embarrassed, chuckling like an idiot. “OMG,” she said, putting her mittened hands against her cheeks. “I totally forgot, Cher! I’m such an idiot. Wow, I can’t even…”

  Leo moved away from Cheryl as if a rotten smell had suddenly emanated from her. She had a feeling she was about to hear something she wouldn’t much appreciate. “What the hell, Maggie? You said you couldn’t make it. Theatre tickets?”

  Maggie shook her head, making the tassels on her woollen hat swing back and forth like pendulums. “The tickets Andrew bought are for next weekend, can you believe it? I’m such a scatterbrain. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, Cher.”

  Cheryl took two steps forwards, then realised she was clenching her fists. It took an effort to open them again. “I’ve just driven an hour with Leo to get here, Maggie. I’ve packed a bag and cancelled my other plans.”

  Nobody needed to know she’d had no other plans.

  Maggie’s sheepish grin finally fell, but she only gave a shrug. “Sorry, Cher. Really, I am.”

  Cheryl took another step forward, fists re-clenching. Was Maggie even hearing her? “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got to say? Jesus!”

  John stepped in front of Maggie protectively and held a leather-gloved hand up to Cheryl in a way she didn’t much like, but as dismissive as the gesture was, he didn’t seem upset. In fact, he looked disappointed by the mix-up. “Look,” he said, walking over and putting a leather-gloved hand on her lower back. “I’m sure we can squeeze an extra person in, Cheryl. They specifically stated six, but you’re here now, aren’t you? Even if you can’t take part in the escape room, you can at least stay at the hotel and have fun with the rest of us. We’re not going to send you back home by yourself. That would be wretched of us.”

  Maggie smiled and clapped her hands together. “See! It’s all worked out for the best.”

  Cheryl sighed. She was still angry but couldn’t see the virtue in remaining that way. She was there to have fun. “Thanks John. This is really embarrassing.”

  He removed his hand from her back and gave her a smile. “Don’t be silly, Cher. I’m glad you’re here. More the merrier.”

  “I’m glad you’re here too,” said Leo, and he glared at Maggie to show whose side he was on. He even muttered the word idiot, which caused Maggie’s eyes to widen as if he’d just called her something unforgivable.

  Cheryl rolled her eyes. Drama queen.

  John broke the tension by changing the subject. He had lost much of the formal tone he used at work, and Cheryl was amused to find that he had a mild Bristolian accent. “So, Leo? You find this place all right?”

  “Yeah, boss, no probs whatsoever.” He trudged over to John and gave him a ‘man hug’ complete with pats on the back and ample groin distance betwe
en them. “Where are the others?”

  John nodded over Leo’s shoulder toward the gravel road. “Looks like them now.”

  Cheryl turned to see a tall black Range Rover bouncing down the gravel road. Behind the wheel was Monty, the company’s top salesman. In the back, sitting alone, was Happy, while Alfie, another lad from sales, sat in the front passenger seat. This was Alscon’s inner circle and, somehow, she had found herself right in the middle. The weekend might really help her job prospects.

  Or it could be the weekend from hell.

  2

  Monty — real name Mohammed Rizwan according to the numerous sales awards adorning his desk back at the office — parked his Range Rover and hopped down into the mud. Fully togged in a three-piece suit, Cheryl took pleasure seeing his shiny black loafers get spattered, but she then chided herself for being so mean.

  Happy disembarked after Monty, then Alfie clambered out the front passenger side and lit a fag. The three of them marched towards the hay barns like something out of Reservoir Dogs.

  Bum-bumbum-bumbum-bumbum-bumbum-babum.

  Cheryl chuckled to herself, then stood aside as everyone greeted one another. She grew more and more awkward until, eventually, Monty noticed her presence and looked her up and down as if he were judging a poodle at a dog show. He offered his hand and it was ice-cold as she shook it. “You’re the new bird doing the computers and stuff, yeah?”

  She forced a smile to her face. “John hired me as an online marketer a few months back. I work in the cubicle next to Leo’s.” She wanted to add that her cubicle was also only ten feet from his, and that there had been ample opportunities for him to welcome her to the team.

  “I’ve seen you plenty, luv. Sorry, we ain’t got to know each other yet, but you know how it is with sales, yeah? Gotta stay on the ball or the rabbit gets away.”

  “Um, yeah, good metaphor. So everyone tells me you’re the company’s top dog. Is that true?”

  Monty did a little head jig and thumbed his cropped beard. She wasn’t sure what the gesture represented, but it reeked of arrogance. “I can’t comment on what others say about me, luv. I’m just trying to do a job, innit?”

  She raised an eyebrow, pretending to be interested in his patter. “So how do you convince people our tiles are the best? What’s your secret, Monty?”

  He put his hand on her shoulder and looked her right in the eye. His musky cologne irritated her nostrils and made her want to sneeze. “I don’t sell tiles, luv. I sell a service, yeah? You buy tiles from Monty Rizwan and you know you’re gunna get looked after proper.”

  Cheryl strained to maintain her polite smile, and it became progressively harder when Monty declined to release her shoulder and kept staring at her intensely. It was like he was trying to hypnotise her, or perhaps he thought he was seducing her. Gross!

  Eventually John saved her from the awkwardness by clapping his gloved hands together and getting everyone’s attention. “Okay,” he said. “Monty will give a brief talk at the hotel tonight about how he sells twice as many tiles as everyone else combined, but today we’re here to have fun. No work talk, okay? That’s an order.”

  Leo gave a cheer. “Nice!”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Happy, although Cheryl imagined his idea of play greatly differed to Leo’s. Maggie gave a double thumbs-up like a hyperactive school kid and then shoved her hands in her pockets as if she couldn’t control them. What was wrong with her today? She’d claimed not to want to even come this weekend, but she was more excited than any of them. Cheryl couldn’t help but glare at her.

  Is she playing some kind of game? Or has she lost the plot?

  “So where is this thing?” asked Alfie between drags on his cigarette. He was the company’s junior salesman and John’s nephew, and while Cheryl didn’t know his exact age, it was possible he was still holding onto teenhood by a month or two. He still sported the odd zit but was hot as hell otherwise. The problem was Alfie knew it and carried himself as if he were putting on a show for the world. His inky-black hair was slick with gel, and only a surgeon’s scalpel could have shaped his beard. She considered that his over-confidence might be a defence-mechanism stemming from him having a stunted left hand, which she always found difficult not to stare at. Before Alfie received an answer to his question, he looked at Cheryl and asked another. “How come you’re here? I thought it was just us six.”

  Cheryl gave Maggie a sidewards glance. “I think the plan is to smuggle me in.”

  “That’s cool. More pretty ladies the better, innit? And Maggie’s already spoken for.”

  Cheryl noticed the comment caused John and Maggie to glance sheepishly at one another. She assumed Alfie was referring to the fact Maggie was married, but it seemed to imply something else. It might also count as flirting, so she tried her hardest not to blush.

  “Isn’t somebody supposed to meet us here?” asked Leo. He turned a circle and scanned the farmyard, but all that existed was an old tractor with a slashed tyre and two steel sheds. Beyond that lay only frost-tipped fields and the gravel road. “What’s the deal with this place? What are we supposed to do?”

  “Oh, forgetful me!” John patted himself down. “I received an envelope of instructions to be opened when we arrived. I suppose now would be a good time.”

  Leo scoffed. “Um, yeah, boss. Now would be a good time unless you like standing around in the cold waiting for some bumpkin to come murder us.”

  Alfie frowned. “What the hell’s a bumpkin?”

  “A yokel,” said Happy.

  “Oh, okay. What’s a yokel?”

  Cheryl tittered. “It’s someone who lives in the country. Like really in the country.”

  “Oh.”

  Maggie let out a cackle. “You lot crack me up.”

  Leo frowned at her, making it obvious that he too thought she was acting weird.

  John pulled the envelope from the inside pocket of his Burberry jacket and fingered open the seal. While he was busy, Happy came over to greet Cheryl. The ageing office manager was wrapped in an unfashionable sheepskin coat worn over light-blue jeans. It belied both his advancing age and lack of fashion sense. To top it all off, he wore an oversized badge on his lapel that read: NEVER GIVE UP. “It’s a nice surprise to see you here, Cheryl,” he said in a thicker version of the Bristolian accent John used. “Unexpected though.”

  “Unexpected is right,” she said. “Maggie said she needed me to take her place then bloody well turns up. Can you believe it?”

  Happy sighed. “Unfortunately, yes, that’s rather a Maggie thing to do. It wouldn’t have been personal, I assure you. She’s forgetful at the best of times, especially of late.”

  “The whole thing is embarrassing.”

  “I’ll bet, but you’re here now so there’s no escaping it.” He chuckled, but then grew serious. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re settling in at Alscon. Everything going okay?”

  “Yeah, great, thanks. I’m hoping this weekend might help me get to know everyone a little better. It’s nice to be a part of things.”

  He nodded sagely. “Inclusion is key to morale.”

  “Um, yep.” She offered a smile. Motivational epithets were part of Happy’s job, but he spouted them so often that they lost meaning. Last week, he’d told her that the key to a successful future was correcting past failures. It was perfectly sound advice, but she’d only been making a cup of coffee at the time.

  John unfolded the letter and flapped it out in front of him. “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “It says, and I quote: Unburden yourself to reveal your destiny.” He looked up from the piece of paper. “That’s all it says.”

  “Seriously?” Monty shuffled to keep his loafers out of the mud. “There’s gotta be more than that.”

  John studied the paper again, front and back. “Nope. Nothing. Just that one sentence.”

  “What if it’s, like, invisible ink or something,” said Maggie, “like in those old spy films.”

&n
bsp; Leo smirked. “What spy films have you seen, Mag?”

  She shrugged. “Austin Powers.”

  “Ha! Austin Powers?”

  “Never heard of it,” said Alfie.

  They all chuckled, which led to Maggie blushing. “What? That’s a spy film, isn’t it?”

  Leo shook his head, bemused. “Come on, guys, we need to think about this.”

  “It’s one of those riddle thingys, I reckon,” said Alfie. He untied the thick scarf around his neck and redid it tighter. Despite having only one finger and a thumb on his left hand he used it deftly. Once again, Cheryl forced herself not to stare at the unusual appendage.

  Ignore the hand. He’s a hottie. Just ignore the hand.

  I’m going to Hell.

  Monty scoffed at Alfie. “State the obvious why don’t you, bruh.”

  Alfie sucked his teeth. “You mugging me off, bruh?”

  “Yeah, bruh. What you gunna do about it?”

  “I’ll knock your block off, bruh, innit?”

  John clapped his hands as if trying to break up a dog fight. “Guys!”

  “We need to leave our belongings,” said Cheryl, ignoring the banter war between the two salesmen and thinking out loud. It gained everyone’s attention.

  Monty turned to her and somehow managed to belittle her with only a look. “What’s that, luv?”

  “I was offering an answer to the riddle.”

  Monty winked at her. “That’s the spirit. Now, let Monty have a stab at—”

  Leo cut him off. “Cher’s right! We’re supposed to, I dunno, empty our pockets or whatever.”

  John studied the paper in his hands and repeated the clue to see if it fit. “Unburden yourself to reveal your destiny. It makes sense! I think you’re onto something, Cheryl. Good work!”

  Cheryl couldn’t help but smile. John was twice her age, and a bit of a dick from the little she knew of him, but he was a confident, successful businessman. To have him pleased with her was a nice feeling that she couldn’t deny. Even now, John was still smiling at her encouragingly.