‘I know, I know, you have your phone. I won’t be calling you unless I absolutely have to.’
I smile. ‘Thanks, Margaret. You’re a star.’
As I ride the lift to the ground floor, I check my make-up and adjust my black pencil dress.
When I step into the street, London’s brisk air strikes me even harder than usual after the heat of Dubai and I pull my coat closed at the chest.
Kenneth – replacement Jackson whilst he’s on leave – is waiting for me. I cast my handbag and laptop case onto the back seat of Gregory’s Mercedes and slip inside. Kenneth closes the door behind me; he’s either started to get this or Gregory has had a word about procedure. Something tells me the latter is more likely.
I flick through the information a trainee managed to pull together for me on the game Gregory wants Constant Sources to acquire. I can’t personally see what all the fuss is about. Insubstance, Black Diamondslookslike other games I’ve seen before. A robber in jailhouse stripes runs across the bottom of the screen, occasionally jumping over traps set to catch him and avoiding the batons of red-faced, raging policemen. Meanwhile, black diamonds fall from the sky when buildings miraculously get blown up. The robber must catch the falling diamonds in a shopping trolley-type thing. My trainee tells me it’s great but I translate that to mean he enjoyed playing on it all afternoon then calling it research and billing his time to GJR.
One thing that’s undeniable however, is that mind-numbing though it may seem to me, this game’s download figures are already showing big promise. The creator is a guy in his late teens, Stuart Culliton. He’s new on the scene but there are one or two articles online, marvelling at his age, questioning whether he could be the next Mark Zuckerberg. I’m interested to meet him.
‘Thanks, Kenneth,’ I say as I step onto the pavement outside my dark knight’s glass tower.
I ride the lift to the highest floor for Gregory’s office block. When the doors open, I’m confronted by a young, slim man dressed in cleaning uniform. I recognise him from somewhere but I can’t place him. As I move out of the lift and passed him, I do a double take, my mind struggling to connect the dots.
Then he beams at me. ‘Scarlett.’
‘Paul?’ I’m used to seeing him sitting on the pavement outside my office block, pale and shaky, but now he has colour in his cheeks. His eyes have more life and his hair is clean. ‘What? How?’
‘I’ve been hoping for weeks that I’d see you again, so I can say thank you.’
‘Thank me for what?’
‘Asking Mr Ryans to give me a job.’
‘He— Gregory employed you?’
He nods, his cheeks flush. ‘You didn’t know?’
‘No. I— When?’
‘Six weeks, four days ago.’ He plants his mop in his red bucket and leans on the stem with pride. ‘He sought me out, in the shelter. I knew his face from when he dropped you off at your office and that morning he was looking for you.’
Oh, yes, I remember, when you gave up my hideout.‘I suppose I can forgive you for that.’
He smiles. ‘He told me he was doing it for you. He took me on. It’s like a dream. No one ever gets a job from the streets. He gave me an advance on my wages so I could rent a room, said I have to earn it back, of course, but it covered my rent for six months and left some over. I won’t let him down. I won’t let either of you down, I promise.’
‘I don’t know what to say, Paul. I’m pleased for you. Really, really, pleased for you. You look well.’
He shrugs, bashful. ‘Might pay my soup angel a visit now that I’m getting back on my feet.’
He used to tell me about a woman who served him in the soup kitchen. He swore she was giving himthe eyeand he called her his soup angel.‘I think you should. Listen, I’ve got to go but it’s lovely to see you. And, Paul, don’t stick to this for Gregory and me; do this for yourself.’
He nods and gives me a soft, proud smile that makes my entire body warm.
I pass Sue at reception and walk with purpose straight into Gregory’s office. He lifts his head and stands as I cast my bags and documents onto one of the sofas. As soon as he steps out from behind his desk, I throw myself at him, hands locking into his hair, mouth crashing roughly against his.
‘What have I done to deserve that reaction?’
‘You, Gregory Ryans, are quite simply wonderful. That kiss was because I just passed Paul in the corridor. Thank you. What you’ve done for him is incredible. You’ve put your faith in him.’
He strokes a hair from my brow behind my ear in that way he does. ‘No, baby, I put my faith in you.’
I lunge again, taking his mouth and twisting my tongue around his until he matches my pace and pulls me into him. We’re both panting when we separate. ‘That one was for the flowers.’
He drops his forehead to mine. ‘You’re more than welcome.’
