The Milieu Principle

By Malcolm Franks

A Kindle bestseller.

Mike had no idea where the memory stick came from, or that it held plans to decimate human numbers to solve the global population crisis. What he did know was that he was now on the run, trying to evade shadowy figures who want both the USB back and no loose ends. Using a false identity he tries to outrun his pursuers. When that fails he has only one choice left. Fight back.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Malcolm Franks
• Release date: Oct 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9780956694409

Malcolm Franks

I always wanted to write books, since I first read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - tells you a lot about my age group - but never quite got round to it until later in life. I could blame parental pressure to get a job, a wife to do what needed to be done around the house, or the chidren for being so demanding. The truth is - a lack of confidence that I could write something people would want to read. Hey presto! My first book, The Milieu Principle, currently sits top of the pile on Kindle for downloaded political thrillers while my second, Milieu Dawn, sits third. Now there's something I didn't expect. The third of the trilogy, NSSM 2000, should be on kindle soon. I can only hope I haven't lost my touch already.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Constant Caller

It was the sheer ferocity of the sudden downpour which tempted his wearying eyes away from the screen. The sheets of water didn’t as much hit the ground as pummel away at the lush topping of the large, rectangular lawn. He’d only recently raised the horizontal blinds covering the wall of glass hoping that a rabbit, or some other form of harmless wildlife, would innocently meander across the green and provide a temporary distraction. This torrent of rain was strangely more interesting. He likened it to a reflection of the current economic climate; dank, dark and mercilessly unforgiving. He shivered amidst the murky light and his mind catapulted into whinge overdrive at the ever increasingly unpredictable weather. One minute the office was bathed in sunshine, attracting too much heat, the next it was darkened and miserable. Begrudgingly he returned his eyes to the screen, with only the loud thrashing of the rain against the windows to keep him company.

Mike used to enjoy looking at the accounts, black numbers everywhere. Now they were mostly coloured red, a truly dispiriting sight.

The gentle tap at the door was succeeded by Tina’s round face appearing through the opening at the end of the room. Her dark hair was scraped back against the scalp of her small head in the ponytail setting she mostly preferred.

Mike, we’re away now.

Okay, he replied, checking the Rolex.

Is there anything you need before we leave?

Nothing thanks. I’ll see you on Monday.

His attention moved back to the wide computer screen, sure in the knowledge Tina would disappear to start her weekend. The sound of the deep sigh drew him back to the open door.

Doing anything special this weekend? she asked.

No, nothing special, he replied shaking his head.

Tina’s second sigh prompted him to push the keyboard to one side. Turning in the swivel chair to face her he wondered what was on her mind. If nothing else, her call for attention offered an excuse to not do what he was supposed to be doing.

What is it Tina?

You’re going to spend all weekend in here again.

Keeps me out of mischief, he replied with a smile.

Taking a couple of days off wouldn’t go amiss. Why don’t you go away for a night or two? she said, moving towards the end of the oval shaped meeting table.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her.

I take more than enough holidays.

Making hourly international calls back to the office does not constitute a proper holiday, no matter where you are. It’s time you had a real break, one where you gave your mobile to me for safekeeping and left the laptop at home.

Motioning her to one of the black leather seats surrounding the meeting table, he took the adjacent seat. He could see more of her long brunette hair now. Accompanied by the bright red colouring on her lips, the choice of appearance made her look a little older than he knew her to be. Then again, Tina had always been mature beyond her years.

What’s this all about?

She seemed hesitant to speak. Her dark brown eyes flickered down towards her clasped hands before returning to look at his face.

You’ve been getting more and more irritable with each passing day this week. I thought the way you barked at Joanne this morning was unnecessarily harsh, even by your unique standards.

There are mistakes and then there are totally avoidable basic errors. Which one of those descriptions do you think best suits the circumstance?

It was a genuine mistake and far from deserving that kind of venom. You get like this when you’re tired and grumpy. Why don’t you go away for a couple of days? I promise we’ll all still be here when you get back, as will the office.

He took some time to reflect on her well intended advice. Tina was motherly by nature, a calming influence, and the reason why she was popular amongst the staff. She was also a gifted office manager, which is why he found her so indispensable.

Have you spoken to her?

We’ve had a little chat and she’s feeling a bit better. But it would mean a lot more if you spoke to her as well, show Joanne the better side of your nature.

I’m her employer not her nursemaid, this isn’t a finishing school.

She shook her head.

What? he said impatiently.

Mike, all of the girls are unsure of you, because they don’t know you like I do. Hilary has no idea you’re the mystery donor who paid for the mini-coach for her daughter’s playschool. And Alison can’t understand how the last year of her student loan debt was suddenly revoked.

They were tax deductible, he shrugged.

You know what I’m talking about. Would it undermine your position so much to be a little friendlier every now and again, instead of wearing this permanent Mr Unapproachable expression? It’s not totally beyond the realms of possibility they could end up liking you. And I’m the one that has to pick up the pieces, like some sort of surrogate mother figure.

Good cop, bad cop, he replied with a smile. It always works, and you make an excellent good cop. You are perfect for the role.

But it’s you they should be looking up to, not me.

They’re staff, Tina. I pay them to do a job, that’s all.

If they were just staff then you wouldn’t have bothered to ask me about Joanne. Why you insist on keeping people at arm’s length I’ll never understand. Even the people we do business with say you’re difficult to read.

You seem to read me alright, he replied with a slight grin.

She shook her head in frustration.

You are one of the most infuriating of men. It’s no wonder the women in your life have never stayed around for long.

The resulting silence was deafening.

I’m sorry Mike. I shouldn’t have said that.

He struggled to keep the grin in place.

You’re absolutely right. You shouldn’t have said that, and his eyes narrowed.

The side of Tina’s mouth twitched nervously on rising to move to the door.

Oh, I forgot to tell you, she said, turning quickly. Amy called again, the third time today. I told her you’d gone into another meeting. Are you and Amy back ...

Thanks, was all he said to cut her short, and the nervous smile reappeared as she left.

Mike darted for the door of his top floor apartment in an attempt to avoid exchanging pleasantries with the two neighbours, chatting animatedly on the well-lit stairwell. Entering the large open plan space he tossed his jacket over the back of the long leather sofa. After throwing the post onto the glass coffee table, he headed straight for the kitchen area to start the coffee machine.

His left hand prised open the door of the steel coloured upright freezer, searching for a ready-made offering for the evening meal. He narrowed the choice down to either the beef or pork Sunday platter and, for no particular reason, decided upon the latter. It would take twenty five minutes according to the instruction label and he muttered at the inconvenience of having to wait so long for what was, after all, meant to be a convenience meal.

Impatiently he strode over the wood flooring, past the first of the two oval shaped pillars placed on either side of the main living area, and inspected the flashing telephone icon.

‘Four new messages’ it read, so he pressed the replay button to check if they were of any importance. The first was from Amy, asking Mike to give her a ring.

Give me strength.

Having already refused to take her calls at the office today it was obvious she hadn’t taken the hint. He began to wonder how many more times he would have to snub her attempts to contact him, berating himself for electing to let her down gently the way he had. Mike played the second message, it was from Amy, as were the third and fourth. What could she possibly want from him now?

He wandered over to the patio doors fronting the waterside balcony, and gazed upon the slow moving river while he toyed with the idea of returning her numerous calls. The water was peaceful this evening, rippling gently down towards the concrete bridge spanning the waterway, before meandering further downstream. The traffic crossing the man-made structure was heavier than usual for this time of night, and he supposed this was due to it being a Friday.

Mike thought about switching on the plasma screen then decided that the view in front of him would probably be more interesting. He listened to the pitter-patter of the gentle rain, beating rhythmically against the window. It prompted him to reach for the hi-fi remote control to spark the incumbent CD into life. A melody soon filled the open plan floor. Although not a favoured tune it was preferable to the previous silence in the apartment.

The quietness of his surroundings disturbed him this hour. He felt subdued and tentative, more than a little irritable, as Tina had astutely noticed. The mood had enveloped him since he first rose this morning. It always happened on this day of the year.

His thoughts returned to Amy’s rash of telephone calls. It had been many weeks since they’d last spoken, leading him to believe that this episode in his life had finally ended. There really wasn’t anything left to say and he reasoned it better to keep some distance between them.

The problems with the business began to occupy his mind. According to Government statistics the UK was officially out of recession. It didn’t feel like it to Mike. With the credit crunch showing no signs of abating things were beginning to bite, and bite hard. Debtors were piling up. Soon, his own business would reach the point of defaulting; the top of the slippery slope.

Bank lending was prohibitive and Mike had no idea where the next meaningful order was going to come from, to ease the downturn in cash flow. Someone had told him once that when money gets tight all you have left are business acquaintances rather than friends. How prophetic that simple phrase was proving to be. Had he kept more cash reserves in the company, instead of frittering money away, things would be easier.

The gentle hum of the mobile alerted him to the incoming text, stockbroker confirmation the sale had gone through and the money was in his account. He grimaced at the news. Those shares were meant to be his nest egg, the golden goose to keep him comfortably placed in retirement. Bad enough he had been forced to sell when the market was at rock bottom, worse that it offered temporary respite at best.

He had so far resisted any notion of entering the business into administration or insolvency. While this might have suited other company directors, Mike didn’t do failure. The stigma followed a man round like an unwanted stench. He had refused to employ someone once because the man’s business had collapsed. He remembered telling Tina he didn’t want any deadbeat losers working for him, and the guy had overheard him.

The phone rang and he ambled over to peer at the flashing LED screen, recognising the mobile number immediately, Amy yet again. He decided to let the answer phone pick up the message.

Mike, please pick up. I know you’re there because I saw you standing at the window.

His anger rose at the thought she had been watching him, stalking him even, and he considered picking up to yell a couple of light obscenities down the phone. It was one way of making sure she would finally get the message.

Mike, it’s your Dad’s anniversary today and I know how it makes you feel. I had to call to make sure you were going to be alright. Please answer, even if it’s just to say you’re okay.

Her words threw his mind into temporary confusion. An unexpectedly thoughtful gesture and one he appreciated. He hesitated; then picked up the phone.

Amy, he answered. It’s nice of you to ring but I’m due back out soon.

That’s fine, she replied. I only wanted to call in case you needed anything, or anyone, for company.

Mike walked over and looked out across the river, at the walkway of the shopping precinct on the other side. He could just make out Amy’s figure standing alone and she waved at his appearance by the patio doors. The memories came flooding back.

I’ve made some coffee, he said. There’s probably time for one cup before I go.

I’ll be two minutes, she replied and the line went dead.

He watched her dart along the walkway, umbrella in hand, onto the pavement of the bridge. She scurried through the rain, towards the apartment.

What have I done? he murmured.

Chapter Two

The Dinner Guest

Amy glided past Mike in much the same way she used to expertly run rings round him on the ice rink. Throwing off her damp overcoat and wet brolly into his arms, he deposited them on the coat rail by the door. Her scent overwhelmed the lacquer smell of the wooden floor and camped itself in the atmosphere. He remembered it to be the same expensive brand he’d bought for her last Christmas, the one he’d said made Amy smell incredibly intoxicating. He turned and she narrowed the gap between them to kiss him warmly. He didn’t resist.

Hi, Mike, she smiled. I was concerned for you.

Actually, I’d forgotten it was today, he replied. Maybe that explains my irritability. He hadn’t, but he wanted to try and limit the conversation.

Let’s see if I can cheer you up for a few minutes then, before you go. You mentioned something about a coffee?

She clasped her hands around his and tugged firmly as she back-peddled towards the kitchen space, smiling all the way. Following obediently he understood now what first attracted him to Amy. She was totally gorgeous.

Her perfectly groomed bottled blonde hair fell around the high cheekbones of her narrow face. The slim waist and figure accentuated by the clinging, white sleeveless dress left little to the imagination. Certainly she wasn’t wearing any kind of upper support. The bright, sparkling brown eyes would make any man want to rush and dive into her embrace. For a Civil Servant she had an incredible fashion sense, an exquisite taste, and he recalled her skin as being as flawless as the white dress she was now barely wearing.

Amy seemed effervescent tonight, bright and cheerful. The happiest and healthiest he had seen her for a long while. She was a million times different from their last face to face meeting.

You look as though you’re ready to party rather than go shopping, he observed.

All part of the course, she replied. Looking good for every minute of the day builds up your self-esteem, it works too.

So the treatment is going well?

Amy never fluttered an eyelid.

Great! she exclaimed. You’ve no idea how much better I feel these days. It’s like someone has given my life back to me. I can’t thank you enough, Mike.

She embraced him tightly, as if genuinely grateful, and it warmed him to know his intervention had helped.

I’m pleased for you, he replied as he poured out the coffee and carried the mugs through to the living area.

Amy positioned herself in the centre of the long sofa, the contrast of the white attire against the black leather only serving to highlight her attractive figure. Mike put one of the drinks onto a place mat in front of her and then sat opposite, in the single chair. The initial expression betrayed her surprise at his choice, but the look soon disappeared.

Let’s not talk about me, I came to see you, she said with a warm smile. Sounds like you’re gradually coming to terms with everything.

He paused.

Probably, he said with a shrug of the shoulders. Have you returned to work yet?

Yes, just finished my second week. Everybody has been so kind and supportive since I went back and they’re easing me into the old routine gently. I’ve been very, very lucky. If it hadn’t been for you, Mike, then God only knows where or how I would have ended up. The very thought of it gives me the shivers.

You would have come to your senses eventually. I was little more than an interested observer.

That’s not true and you know it, she said quietly, maintaining a steady gaze. I owe you everything.

He looked into her eyes. They were vibrant, full of life and energy. Matt found it difficult to reconcile how he had failed to spot the first signs of her problems much earlier in their relationship. Looking back, they were so, so obvious.

The counselling support has been out of this world. I don’t know where you managed to find these guys, but they’re absolutely brilliant. I couldn’t have achieved half the things I have so far without their help and support.

Her smile said it all. She was definitely on the mend.

Did it cost you very much to hire these people? she asked quietly. He hesitated before shaking his head.

No, their rates were reasonable.

There was a brief pause.

Why did you help me, Mike? she suddenly asked in a serious tone, gazing with all her old tenderness into his eyes. Any other man would have run several miles in the other direction rather than get involved.

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to suggest he didn’t know himself.

Because I could, I suppose, he replied.

In truth, Mike felt duty bound. They were in some sort of relationship at the time, so believed he was partly responsible for her welfare. At least, that was the reason he’d convinced himself was behind his actions. She had no family in the area to fall back on, no support mechanism other than the ‘friends’ who had got her into that state. It pained him to see how far she’d fallen.

Amy kept her gaze fixed on his face.

You should try counselling. It might help you with your issues.

What issues. I don’t have any bloody issues.

Your commitment issues, she said seriously.

I don’t have any problem with commitment. I’ve haven’t yet found a woman I’m happy to settle with on a permanent basis, that’s all, he replied defensively.

Not just with women. You seem to have problems with everybody. We were together for nearly a year and I didn’t know you any better the last time we met from the first. If you had any close friends I never met them, and all you seem to want to do is shut the world out of your life. It’s like you’re afraid to let people know who you really are.

He was about to react angrily to her ungrateful criticism when she sat bolt upright.

What’s that smell? she asked.

What smell?

It’s coming from the kitchen.

Oh shit!

He darted for the oven, closely followed by Amy. Smoke billowed out from the opened door, almost choking them both. Mike frantically waved his hands around to try and clear the air. Cautiously, he tugged at the shelf with the tea towel and then lifted out the charred remnants of his convenience meal. Amy began to laugh.

I should have included cookery lessons on the list, she giggled.

Mike stood quietly, holding the blackened case and staring blankly down in despair. He was looking forward to this meal. A sound to the left stirred him from his deliberations. Amy was searching through the freezer drawers and the fridge to see what he had in stock.

Don’t bother, Amy. I’ll get something later.

Nonsense, it won’t take very long to knock something up. Here, grab this, she said, passing over a large pack of frozen peas.

Amy, it doesn’t matter, he insisted.

She stood upright and looked him clear in the eye.

After all you’ve done for me the least I can do is cook a meal for you. Go and finish your coffee, it won’t take long.

You can’t cook done up like that, you’ll ruin the dress.

Then give me your apron.

He stood in silent response.

No apron either eh? Okay, I’ll have to lose the dress, and reached behind her neck to feel for the zip.

You are not cooking without any clothes on, he said and disappeared quickly from view, returning a few moments later with an unbuttoned dark blue shirt which he tossed over to where she was standing. Her smile widened as she turned her back on him and flipped her hair up so he could unzip the dress, a manoeuvre with which he was all too familiar.

Gazing out of the patio doors across the river, he shook his head gently for allowing things to get this far. Perhaps, sub-consciously, he thought this might help Amy’s recovery. More likely it was because he felt a little lonely tonight, the fifth anniversary of his father’s passing.

The repast placed on the glass dining table in front of him instantly appealed, the freshly cooked ingredients steaming with flavour and colour. Mike could hardly believe such a masterful dish could be made from so little, and his nose breathed in the appetising aroma rising up from the plate.

He poured the first of the red wine into Amy’s glass, one of the best from his stock, as a reward for her culinary ingenuity.

It’s not much, but it will do you a lot more good than the processed rubbish you were about to eat, she said.

The light from the brightly flamed candle flickered across her face. Amy looked radiant having been reacquainted with her dress. He realised how fortunate he had been to have spent time with her before the addiction took its toll. Though unlikely to be a permanent arrangement, he wondered how far things might have gone had she managed to resist the lure of class A drugs. It wrecked any chance of a meaningful liaison as far as he was concerned, and there was no going back.

He had once quipped to Tina, shortly after hooking up with Amy, that he was now only interested in blonde and beautiful women with figures to die for. The thoughtless remark had lent him notoriety almost as soon as it had exited his lips and he had regretted the indiscreet remark ever since.

How is it? she asked as the first morsel glided down his throat.

Delicious, he replied, and it truly was, making her beam with delight.

They exchanged a few minutes of small talk, the food on the plates rapidly vanishing, before she returned to an earlier topic.

Mike, you are one of the kindest yet most mysterious men I’ve met. I wish you would let me, or someone, get inside that bubble of yours. It would probably help you enormously.

Let’s not spoil a good night, he replied quietly.

Mike, please don’t push me away.

He gazed at the concerned expression. A part of him wished to rid the albatross from around his neck, to talk to someone and try and get it out of his system, the other part refused to countenance the matter.

I know your Dad had an affair and your mum left him because of it. But these things happen all the time, all over the world. It’s part of life.

Are you trying to counsel me?

No, she laughed, trying to know you better. That’s all.

He paused for a few moments, not quite sure how to react to her directness. Amy appeared far more grounded now, to have so much more personal confidence.

He sighed in indecision.

It’s the betrayal, he said. That’s what I found difficult. It’s the worst kind of human sin, and it destroyed them both. Dad made a mistake, which he regretted. Mum couldn’t accept this weakness and took off. He betrayed her trust and she betrayed him by being unable to forgive the indiscretion and stand by him. Eventually, Dad betrayed me because of it.

Amy frowned before responding.

How did he betray you? I’m not sure I understand.

Mum took a coach when she left and it was involved in a serious accident. She was one of the victims. Dad tried, but couldn’t live with the guilt. When he died suddenly, the pathology report couldn’t find a physical reason for it. The Doctor seemed to think he died of a broken heart.

Mike paused for a moment.

He could have stayed on this world, with me. Instead, he chose to leave. Dad often used to say ‘everyone betrays you in the end,’ and he was right. I’ve learned the more distant a man is from people, the less impact their ultimate betrayal will have.

Do you think I betrayed you, because of the drugs? she asked, hesitantly.

No, only yourself, he replied after a pause. Mike shook his head. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s change the subject.

He regretted being open. To be honest left one vulnerable, he’d always reasoned.

You once promised me you’d shave that beard off.

I lied, he quipped.

Oh no, Mike Daniels, a promise is a promise no matter how or when it was said, and with those words she jumped from her seat and grabbed him by the arm.

He considered resisting. Something made him go along with her playfulness. Within a few steps they had entered the bathroom and she sought out the razor blade and the shaving foam. With ever brightening eyes, she disrobed him of the shirt and tie and slid open the half moon shaped door to the double shower. She kicked off her shoes with a mischievous grin and stepped inside.

You’ll ruin the dress, he said.

Screw the dress, she said. Get yourself in here and kneel, and he obeyed.

Unleashing the shower head she sprayed the water against his finely trimmed beard to give it a good soaking, drenching her own clothes in the process, and then gently massaged the foam around his face and chin. Amy’s touch was smooth and careful, first one side of his cheek then the other. Her face was a picture of intense concentration, evidenced by the tip of her tongue poking through the side of her lips. She applied the blade in short deliberate strokes, checking each one had successfully completed its mission before continuing.

After she’d finished, Amy once more doused his face using the showerhead to rinse away the excess. Stepping from the cubicle she reached across to the glass tray above the sink and tipped the bottle of after shave into her palm, returning to dab her scented hands to his face. Amy stroked the back of her fingers against the newly revealed naked area and smiled in triumph. She bent her frame and pressed her lips gently against his. He didn’t need to check her artistry with the blade, for there was only one thing left to do now.

And it was glorious, on each occasion, the re-kindling of an old habit which exorcised the demons of his frustrating day and filling him with life and desire. Amy always had this innate ability to make him feel as if no-one on the planet could make love to a woman like he.

Mike awoke around three in the morning and reached to touch Amy’s warm body, only to find she had left the bed. Curiosity aroused he rose and began the search, needing no more than a few short steps to spot her sitting on the sofa by the side lamp with her bare back to him. Her shoulders were gently rising up and down.

His first instinct was to believe she was consuming, again, and a fierce sense of rage surged through his naked body. He was about to surprise her by illuminating the large open plan area with a flick of the switch, when he noticed she had hold of a handful of items. They looked like photographic prints and her right hand was shaking.

She was crying.

Amy? What’s wrong? he asked as he sat beside her.

She said nothing, hurriedly trying to push the items under the cushion of the sofa to hide them from sight. He retrieved them. The images on the photos made him gasp with shock. Women’s faces disfigured by beatings and razor injuries.

These are awful. Where did you get them from? he asked, aghast.

She didn’t respond, choosing to bury her head in her hands.

Do you know these people?

She shook her head.

What’s wrong? Why have you got these photographs?

Oh, Mike, she cried, I’m so scared, and her body began to shake violently against him.

Scared? Scared of what?

They came in the post yesterday.

He flipped the photographs over and tried to read the scribble scrawled furiously on the other side. None of it made sense. It seemed to take forever to cajole her trembling frame into some sort of order before she could talk again.

About a year ago, I ran out of money and needed a fix. I was desperate. A friend of mine introduced me to a man at one of the local clubs, and he gave me some cash to get me through the night.

She began to cry again.

It’s all right, he said sympathetically. Take your time and tell me when you’re ready.

He just kept offering me money, an endless supply, and I was too far gone to understand what I was getting into. When I was released from rehab, he called round and demanded his money.

How much do you owe him?

The man said I borrowed seven thousand in all, but now there is interest to pay on top.

So how much do you owe him now?

He says it’s up to twenty five thousand.

Mike knew instantly the man was an illegal money lender.

What’s his name?

Bridges, she replied. He says if I can’t pay then this will happen to me, she said, pointing to the photographs.

Is this why you came to see me? he asked calmly.

No. No. I didn’t want you to know about this. Not after all you’ve done for me. I was doing so well, Mike, finally getting my life together. Now this has happened.

She began to sob loudly and he tried to comfort her. Mike realised going to the police wasn’t an option. This man would terrify her from giving evidence long before any subsequent court case was arranged.

He said the only other alternative was to work in one of his clubs, she added.

As an unpaid prostitute, Mike said, and she nodded.

I didn’t plan for you to find out, Mike. I promise, please believe me.

He wasn’t sure if Amy was telling the truth. But he was incapable of walking away and leaving her to the mercy of the likes of this man Bridges.

I believe you, he said.

Chapter Three

Packages

The black S Class Mercedes glided to a halt at one of the openings leading to the row of parking bays. Mike could see one empty space, guarded on either side by worn looking hatchbacks. He moved along to the next opening and spotted a vacant space close to the main entrance, next to a gleaming new BMW.

Through the corner of his eye he noticed a dishevelled saloon approaching from the other direction. Mike pressed against the accelerator to beat the incoming vehicle to the opening, causing it to brake sharply. Despite his best efforts he failed to prevent a smug grin enveloping his face as he manoeuvred into the space.

The driver with the ill-fitting suit leapt from his car and hurled an obscenity at Mike as he stepped into the open. His grin widened at the angry man, increasing the level of hostility spewing from the loser’s livid mouth. Mike turned his head in indifference and walked to the glass door entrance to the business centre.

He had considered re-locating once or twice before because of the free-for-all nature of the car park. It was never really a viable option compared to what he stood to lose. Not only was the location right the splendour of his vast office, complete with French windows that opened out onto the green outside, couldn’t be bettered in the locality. Image was everything after all and his offices impressed each and every visitor to the company. So he masked the minor irritation and made sure he was careful in his choice of bay.

The matter held little significance for him today, compared to everything else going on in his life. Not least this morning’s meeting with Ray Bridges, which was going to be a real challenge.

He’d barely made it to the porch entrance when he heard the sound of a fast revving engine and turned to see a white delivery van approaching. It screeched to an unlikely halt, inches away from the Mercedes. Mike feared for the safety of his car and grimaced in anticipation of a collision. The driver jumped from the van with a small package in one hand and a delivery schedule in the other.

Is there a Michael Daniels here? he asked.

Me, Mike answered.

Talk about good timing, said the smiling young man in the baseball cap, offering up the package. Sign here please.

Mike exchanged his signature for the small padded envelope and entered the building without any further acknowledgement. As he typed in the entrance security code he glanced sideways to watch the van depart. The driver jammed into reverse and the van rolled backwards. Then it shuddered forward and swung away. Somehow, it squeezed past the black car without making any contact. Seventy thousand pounds of pure engineering excellence parked in front of him, and the way the driver manoeuvred round it you’d think he was driving in a demolition derby.

Mike’s company, MDL, had made such good profits last year the accountant told him to invest in something expensive to avoid tax. He blew it on the car. Property might have been a better investment but he’d always wanted one, a black S-Class. There was no more obvious statement of business success in this neck of the woods then a near top-of-the-range Mercedes, replete with add-ons such as ‘night assist’ and xenon headlights.

With some relief, he passed through the second glass door and turned right past the unmanned reception area, through the fire door leading into the corridor. The office was a few yards further down to his left, and he opened the solid wooden door. The blinds were open, so he knew Tina was already in, and spotted the files laid neatly on the desk. He circled the meeting table and pulled open the central patio windows to let in the morning air. Rounding the other side of the oval table he took the leather seat behind the desk and switched the computer monitor into colourful life.

His interest was drawn to the small package. Mike pressed the contents with some care, in case it was fragile, to try and guess what was inside. He hadn’t been expecting anything to be delivered. Deciding it would have to wait, he carelessly tossed it into the in-tray while he watched the images form on his screen, mulling over how best to approach this morning’s meeting.

Amy had stayed the whole weekend. Partly because he wanted the company but also to make sure she didn’t do anything foolish, such as relapse back into her old habit to screen out the pressure. Mental strength was not an attribute that could be laid at her door. They had gone shopping on the Saturday, ostensibly so he could replace the dress she had ruined in the shower. He ended up paying for many more items, as he expected. At one point Amy insisted he had his photograph taken, in one of those claustrophobic passport booths, so she could keep pictures of him without his beard. They had already agreed to go their own ways once Mike had helped to resolve her immediate problem. At least, this is what she had said.

The knock at the door signalled the appearance of Tina’s friendly smile and she asked if there was anything else he needed.

Morning, Tina. Coffee will be fine, he responded with his naturally softly spoken voice. She disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, returning a few minutes later with the drink.

Are you alright? she asked, depositing the mug on the desk. You look as though you have the worries of the world on your shoulders.

No, just the normal stuff, he replied nonchalantly. And the fact that I didn’t get much sleep last night, he added, trying to stifle the unexpected yawn.

Amy kept you up all weekend, then? I don’t know where you get the energy from, she grinned.

He smiled in response to her mischievous prodding.

Yeah, but not for the reason I was expecting this time around.

I daren’t even begin to imagine, she said brightly. Hey, you’ve lost the beard, she added, finally noticing his change of appearance.

He chose not to extend the conversation, starting to thumb through the files she had left in a meticulous pile on his desk.

I’ve got a visitor this morning you don’t know about. I arranged it over the weekend. Let me know when he arrives, he said.

Sure. Is there anything else?

He shook his head dismissively to bring the exchange to an end. Tina reacted by shrugging her shoulders to his adopted indifference and left him to whatever he was now pretending to do.

The ringing of the desk phone prompted a glance at the watch. He was sure there were still a few minutes to go before the meeting.

Mike, said Tina, John Hopper’s on the phone. He’d like to speak to you straight away. I told him you had a meeting starting soon ...

It’s okay. Put him through.

John’s call was earlier than expected and he braced himself for the verbal onslaught sure to follow.

Mike, spoke the caller, I’ve just received a fax from your solicitor, demanding immediate settlement of the account or you’ll take me to court. We talked about this a couple of days ago and you agreed to hold off.

Something’s come up, John and I need the money, he replied coolly.

It’s been two days! Things don’t change that quickly, he blurted excitedly.

A lot can happen in a couple of days, said Mike coldly.

"You know how tough things are right now. For Christ’s sake, Mike,