Dark Avenging Angel (8 page)

I laughed. I felt better already.

Half an hour later, Stuart came out of his office, his face creased in a frown. He said nothing and disappeared down the corridor.

“Now there goes a worried man,” Rick said.

An hour later, he returned, went back into his office and shut the door.

“I swear the bastard was smiling,” Steve said.

A few minutes later, Stuart called me into his office. Rick had gone out on calls.

“Shut the door.”

I did so.

“You needn’t sit down. You won’t be staying. I will be speaking to Rick later, but I wanted you to know that your grubby little attempts to discredit me to Maurice have failed. I said I’d booked most of yesterday off as holiday and apologized to him for neglecting to inform him. I said the two of you were a couple of troublemakers. You bore a grudge because your incompetence led to me having to get rid of you, and Rick hadn’t appreciated being passed up for promotion. I told Maurice I was all set to issue Rick with a written warning, when he handed in his notice. Couldn’t have worked out better for me, actually. It means I’ve rid myself of two thorns in my side. Now, get out of my office.”

I took an early lunch, and when I returned, Rick was back. He looked at me, head slightly to one side.

I went over to him. “You know, of course.”

“Yes.” He threw his pen across the desk. “That man would come up smelling of Chanel if you threw him into a silage barn. Shame, really. I’d have loved to take him down. I can’t understand Maurice. He’s oblivious to all Stuart’s faults. You should have seen his face when I told him what Stuart had been up to when he was supposedly off securing business. He looked as if someone had just broken his favorite toy. Then Stuart goes and smooth-talks him, and all’s right with the world again.”

For the next few days, Stuart barked orders at me, but apart from that, did his best to ignore my presence. Staff complained to me about his attitude, and I felt physically sick when an attractive telesales girl told me how Stuart had come up behind her in the photocopier room and put his arms around her.

“I told him to stop,” Georgia said, wiping tears from her eyes.

“And did he?”

“Only after he pushed himself against me. I could feel his…well, you know. He told me he fancied me and he could help me get on if I was nice to him. I’ll swear I smelled alcohol on his breath. I told him I didn’t want to know. I need this job, Carly, but not enough for
that
. As soon as I can get something else, I’m off.”

“I don’t blame you. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Oh, I know there isn’t. It just helps to be able to talk about it.”

“You get off home now. Take the rest of the day and tomorrow too. I’ll tell him you’ve gone home ill. Maybe take the rest of the week off. Get some serious job search done.”

“Thanks, Carly. I really appreciate it. I hope you find something soon too. Shame it’s you going and not him.” She touched my hand and the unaccustomed warmth of the gesture sent tears springing to my eyes.

I looked over at Stuart, sitting in his office as if nothing happened. These days his disgusting behavior would incur penalties. Back in 1979, the world was a very different place. He could get away with practically anything, short of actual rape.

And then it was my turn.

I was photocopying in the small room where the two copiers were housed. The door opened and Stuart sauntered in. He shut the door firmly behind him. I heard a click, but thought nothing of it as I carried on with my work. A split second later and I realized what that click meant. He’d locked the door.

He came at me from behind, clamped one hand over my mouth and the other around my waist.

I dropped the sheaf of papers in my hand as I struggled to get free. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He pushed up my skirt and slid his hand into my panties.

I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. I tried to scream but he gripped my face tighter, squeezing my mouth till my jaw ached. I felt his breath, panting, hot against my cheek, reeking of alcohol.

“It’s about time you learned who’s the boss around here.” He wrenched my panties down and shoved his hand between my legs.

“Well, well…nice and wet. You’re gagging for it, really. Aren’t you, girl? Gagging for it…”

He grabbed my flailing right hand and smacked it against his crotch. I smelled the alcohol on his breath as he pressed himself closer to me.

“Now rub my cock. Use both hands.”

I obeyed.

“Feel that? Feel how hard you’ve made me? I’m going to fuck you right here, and you won’t say a word or I’ll hurt you. Really hurt you. Understand?”

I did my best to nod. Into my mind flashed every single piece of wisdom I could recall about rape. It was precious little. Don’t struggle—that’s all I could remember. I slackened.

“There’s a good girl.” He pushed his fingers hard inside me.

I gasped at the violation and the pain.

“Oh, you really want it, don’t you?” His breath was coming harder. “Now, unzip my fly. Let him out. He wants to play with you.”

My stomach lurched.

The door handle moved. Once. Twice.

I squirmed and tried to cry out. All I managed was a muffled sob.

A voice sounded from the other side of the door. Rick. “Is someone in there? The door’s locked.”

Stuart withdrew his hand from between my legs, kept the other hand over my mouth and wrenched me around to face him.

My jaw throbbed.

He put a finger to his lips, his voice a whisper, “Don’t say a word, or it will go very badly for you. Understand?”

I nodded.

He removed his hand from my mouth, mussed his hair and unzipped his fly.

I watched, perplexed.

He started to pant and unlocked the door.

Outside, a little crowd had gathered. Stuart, Rick, a few telesales girls.

I half fell out of the cramped, stuffy room. And then I stared in disbelief.

“Thank God you came along, Rick.” Stuart was apparently gasping for breath. He pointed at me. “She grabbed me. The woman’s insane. She locked us both in and demanded I have sex with her.”

“What?”
I stared at him as he made a great show of rearranging his clothing and smoothing his hair.

The assembled audience said nothing. One or two exchanged disbelieving glances and raised eyebrows, but some wouldn’t meet my eyes as I scanned them.

My heart thumped painfully. The whole scene felt surreal. Like watching a film. It couldn’t be happening.

Steve had a questioning, incredulous look on his face. Of all of them, Rick’s expression proved the hardest to read. Was that disappointment? Or disbelief?

My mouth had gone dry and I coughed. “That’s a lie. It’s all a lie, Stuart, and you know it. You’ve been drinking.”

More staff had come over to see the cause of the disturbance.

“Rubbish!” Stuart said.

I had never wanted my angel more. “You threatened to
rape
me.” I turned to the others. “And if you hadn’t come along, Rick, he would have.”

Some of the girls gasped. Georgia looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

Stuart laughed. “Oh for heaven’s sake. Will you look at yourself, Carly?”

Now it was his turn to try and get audience support. Some of the male journalists had swelled the numbers. “I mean, guys, would you?” He pointed at me and shook his head. “That skeleton? You’d have to be a bit desperate, wouldn’t you?”

Some of the reporters sniggered.

Rick spoke up. “Not only do I not believe a word of what you’ve just said, Stuart, I totally believe Carly. You attacked her. And if I were you, I’d withdraw that last disgusting remark. She is an attractive young woman, and for the record, yes, I would if I was single.”

I stared at him then smiled.

He winked at me.

Georgia spoke up. Her voice wavered then grew stronger, “It’s not the first time he’s tried it, either.” She coughed. “He had a go at me last week. He’s a perverted bastard.”

Murmurs of agreement from the telesales staff.

Stuart turned on Georgia. “You’re fired!”

That shut the telesales girls up. They stared at him in horror.

“Fine!” Georgia said, but didn’t move.

I forced myself to say nothing. Reaction to what happened set in. I shook. I needed to get out of there. My breathing came harder and faster. A scream was building inside me.

Georgia saw my distress. She put her arm around me and steered me over to my desk. The girls crowded around me, handing me tissues when the tears flowed.

Stuart went off with the reporters. He said something to them and his supporters guffawed with laughter.

I felt dirty. I needed to wash. To scrub every last trace of him off me.

As soon as I could, I excused myself from the girls. I needed to be alone for a while.

Mercifully the ladies was empty. I ran cold water into a bowl and washed my face. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Thin-lipped. White.

A shadow moved out of the corner of my eye. My angel. The ledger and pen were already in her hands.

Are you ready?

I nodded. “Yes, I want Stuart Campbell to be added.”

She wrote, then closed the book and it disappeared in the folds of her cloak.

It is done.

She faded from sight and I felt a weight lift off me. As with my father, I wouldn’t know when, but somehow it would be done and he would join the tortured and anguished damned of my angel’s hell of vengeance. I pushed the memory of their agony out of my mind. Stuart deserved everything he got.

I cleaned myself as best I could using paper towels. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I had taken care of what needed to be done.

Back in the office, Rick sidled over and squeezed my hand. “You okay?”

I did my best to smile. “I’ll get over it.”

“Are you going to report him to Maurice?”

I shrugged. “What would be the point? He’d just get a pat on the back for being a good old boy. Maurice would fall for his side of the story, as always, and I’d just be labeled the ugly nymphomaniac with a grudge.”

Rick leaned forward over my desk. “Don’t ever call yourself ugly, Jane. I meant what I said. If I wasn’t already in a happy relationship, I’d ask you out, with a view to getting to know you much more…intimately.”

He smiled.

This time, my smile was genuine. “Thank you, Rick. Just for the record, I’d accept. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Not at all. Somebody had to.” He grinned but the smile quickly faded. “There’s got to be some way of making that bastard pay. None of us trust him. And now Georgia’s lost her job through no fault of her own. The sooner he’s out of here, the better.”

Now it was my turn to lean forward. “Oh don’t worry, Rick. He’ll pay all right. I can promise you that. I don’t know when, but he will. He’ll pay for all of it, not just what he did to me, but Georgia as well. And I bet there are others. Sooner or later, Stuart’s going to wish he’d never been born.”

Rick opened his mouth as if he was going to ask for an explanation, then he seemed to change his mind. “You know something, Carly, I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of you. Something tells me I’d live to regret it.”

I smiled.

Chapter Nine

I didn’t tell my parents I’d lost my job. I just figured I’d find a new one in the three months of my notice and then announce it as
my
decision. But finding jobs in that part of the world was tough, unless you resorted to the tedious London commute. And that wasn’t something I was prepared to contemplate.

It had now been seven years since my angel had added my father to her list, and six months since I’d been home. I rang my mother regularly and hoped to God that in some way, my absence had made her life easier. Less for them to disagree about.

I had been for an interview the day before Stuart attacked me. A letter arrived the day after the assault. The Premier Bean Coffee Company didn’t want me as a sales rep, preferring instead to go with a current employee who was looking for a step up the ladder. Well, good luck to him (from their attitude at the interview, I somehow doubted the new post-holder was female).

A couple of tense days later, Stuart strode over to my desk. He spoke loud enough for the entire office to hear and he’d made sure he picked a quiet time. He wanted everyone to know what he said next.

“As you’re leaving anyway, Carly. I’ve decided to overlook that unfortunate…incident. In view of the seriousness of the false accusations you made against me, I could of course seek legal redress and, at the very least, demand you leave instantly, as I did with Georgia.”

I stood, keeping the desk between us. I spoke just as loudly and clearly, “You’re a liar and—”

Stuart put up his hand. “I wouldn’t say anything more if I were you. You wouldn’t want me to change my mind, now, would you? After all, you’d be the one to lose out on all those weeks’ salary. I’m quite sure you need the money to tide you over until you can find someone else to employ you.
If
you can find anyone who’ll employ you.”

I seethed. I wanted my angel to strike Stuart down
now
. In full view of the whole office.

As before, the telesales girls looked on in sympathy. The reps tried to pretend they’d heard nothing. Rick was the only one absent. No doubt Stuart had timed his speech to coincide with that too.

I sat down.

Stuart returned to his office.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on returning my adrenaline-fueled heart rate and breathing to normal.

Suddenly everything stopped. As if I’d suddenly gone deaf.

I opened my eyes. Everyone had vanished.

Panic.

I stood up. Checked my watch. Eleven thirty.

Then I realized not quite everyone had disappeared. Stuart still sat in his office, head bowed. But, as I watched for a few seconds, he didn’t move a muscle. As if he was suspended somehow.

I felt her—a few seconds before I saw her. She seemed incongruous in the bright sunlight pouring through the windows. For the first time, I noticed the exact shade of drab brownish black of her cloak. Not shimmering velvet as it sometimes appeared. And, this time, the overpowering sickly stench of dozens of lilies coming from her made me gag.

She looked different in other ways too. Still the dead-white face and the black eyes that seemed to reflect visions I couldn’t yet see. But, for the first time, I noticed her pitch-dark lips seemed not fleshy like a human mouth, but parchment dry, almost scaly. Her body wasn’t solid behind that cloak. It undulated like tiny rippling waves. Why had I never seen her like this before?

With a shock, I realized she didn’t seem to be a whole being. More like a conduit through which some unknown spirit could communicate and interact.

Yet again, it seemed, she had chosen to reveal more of herself to me. A manifestation I hadn’t seen before.

Questions poured into my mind as she stood silently waiting. Though for what, I had no idea. Maybe she wanted me to speak. Maybe she had come to answer my unspoken fears. I swallowed.

“Please tell me who you really are.”

She shook her head. Clearly she wouldn’t answer that question.

Ask me another.

Had she said that? No, it just came into my mind.

“What’s happened to everyone? Why is Stuart still here but…like
that
?” I pointed at him.

Her mouth opened. The stench of lilies became even stronger. I could barely breathe.

Today the vengeance will begin. What starts now cannot be undone. It cannot be stopped. Do you understand?

I nodded. “Yes. I understand. Do I have to do anything?”

You have done what was required.

“Does this apply to my father too, or just Stuart?”

But she didn’t answer that question either.

Soon the man you work for will go home. This time all will not go well for him. Go to his office now. See what has begun.

I opened his door and stepped in.

It felt eerie to see him sitting there, not moving, unaware of anything around him. His right hand was raised slightly, as if he had been caught in the act of turning a page.

I approached his desk.

I might have known. A gardening magazine. An article on cultivating roses had evidently caught his attention. Beside him I noticed some original artwork for a double-page spread for a large local car dealer. If that was for tomorrow, it would have to go to production within the next half hour. Good to see where the advertisement manager’s priorities lay.

Then I gasped. Creeping out from his shirtsleeve, his veins were rising, twisting, entangling, like roots entwining themselves around his wrist and hand. Only for a moment and then the vision faded.

I swallowed. A cold breeze wafted through the office. Goose bumps rose on my arms. I knew she was behind me. I could feel her. Smell her. Today, I wasn’t scared of her. Today she was doing as I asked.

My angel said nothing. She moved to a corner of the office behind him. Watching. Waiting. Then she spoke,
Go back to your desk now. It has begun.

And I knew. Stuart would be going where my father had yet to follow. I felt nothing. No pity. No remorse. Just emptiness.

The corner was empty. My angel had gone. I felt exhausted, as if she’d drained energy from me.

I closed Stuart’s office door and, back at my desk, sank down on the chair. I put my head in my hands and waited.

Seconds later, the usual buzz was back. I lowered my hands and saw the office bustling with telesales staff, as if nothing happened.

I looked at my watch. Still eleven thirty. No time had passed. Had any of it even taken place? At that moment I didn’t even know reality from fantasy.

Five minutes later, Stuart tossed the artwork I’d seen into the tray bound for production. “I have an appointment with a client. I’ll be back tomorrow. Oh, and none of your tricks. Maurice knows I’m away for the rest of the day.”

That smug expression. He really thought he was untouchable. Funny, though, he didn’t seem to appreciate my smile.

In those days, most newspapers carried a heavy trade-union presence. At the
Evening Telegraph
, all the production staff were members of the NGA. The radical union had strict rules. Rules which everyone must obey or face the consequences.

Stuart had been a very naughty boy.

He’d broken a cardinal rule.

An angry production manager, Kevin Steele, marched up to my desk. He towered over me at six foot three. I hoped I hadn’t been the one to turn his face that particular shade of purple.

“Where is he?”

“Who? Stuart? He’s away until tomorrow, I’m afraid. Can I help?”

“Not unless you were the one who authorized non-NGA-approved artwork to be used in tomorrow’s paper.”

“What? Oh my God, I don’t know anything about that. Non-NGA-approved?
Really?
”

Kevin Steele had a voice as loud as his personality. The whole office stopped what it was doing and stared. Little flecks of white foam had formed at the corners of his lips. He was breathing hard and his words came out in short gasps. “That full page advertisement for Checkers’ Cars didn’t come from one of our members. My lads won’t touch it. Your boss tried to pull a fast one. He lied when he signed off on it. You’d better get hold of him. He’s got some explaining to do and, right now, you’ve got a double-page hole in tomorrow’s edition. As for today’s…forget it.”

I blinked. My mind raced. I knew perfectly well the chances of Stuart actually being on an appointment were slim on such a gloriously sunny day, but there was no way I was going to dig out his phone number and warn him. Besides, he had never let me have his number, so why should I search for it? Maurice would have it, though.

“I think we’d better go and see the General Manager” I said, praying he was in his office.

Thankfully, he was.

His face turned from a healthy pink to parchment white in under a minute.

“So where is Stuart now, Carly?”

“I believe he may be at home.”

Maurice stared at me. “Is he ill? He doesn’t have any leave booked today.”

I shrugged. “He said he’d told you he was going on an appointment.”

“But you believe he’s at home.”

I nodded.

Maurice stared at me for a moment and then reached for the phone. “Okay, Carly. I’ll ring him and get him back in here. Kevin, I’m sorry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

The production manager had calmed down, now that he was in front of the chief. “The lads are angry. Very angry. The agency name rang a bell with one of the compositors. It’s a tin pot, poxy little outfit in West Wycombe. Won’t allow unions. If it hadn’t been stopped and the NGA had heard about it, all our work would have been blackballed throughout the industry. You can’t imagine the trouble.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I can.” Maurice started dialing. “Carly, go and tell Chris McKenzie I need to see him urgently. Then get back to the office and make sure everyone stays calm. The last thing we need is a load of panicking women.”

I resisted the temptation to react to his remark.

Contrary to what he might have expected, everyone was almost uncannily calm. The telesales staff handled calls as usual.

Revenue had steadily increased since my much-criticized training session and regular one-to-one coaching. At least I had
that
success to flaunt with new employers I met. A recent interviewer at a newspaper in a town thirty-five miles away had perked up when I quoted that.

My phone rang.

“Carly, it’s Maurice. Could you come to my office, please?”

Chris and Kevin stood and left as I walked in. Chris smiled at me. Kevin’s mouth was still set in a firm line.

Maurice indicated a chair opposite him. “Please sit down, Carly. I’ll bring you up to speed.”

I sat down.

“Stuart has left the
Evening Telegraph
.”

“Really?”

Maurice nodded. I wanted to punch the air.

“His behavior constituted gross misconduct and the union wouldn’t have tolerated his presence anymore. As it is, we’ve lost an entire day’s revenue. There’ll be no
Evening Telegraph
today
.
If you could let admin know, and the trade advertisers will need to be informed, so if you could let the sales staff know too. I expect there’ll be a flood of complaints. Could you ask for volunteers to stay after hours? We’ll pay them, of course.”

“Of course,” I said and stood up, only for Maurice to wave me back down again.

“Just to let you know, I’m bringing Ray Dalston over from the
Norfolk Herald
to caretake as advertisement manager here.”

I didn’t know him, but felt relieved. For one awful moment, I’d thought he might ask me to stay, and I realized then that he could have offered me the world, with the moon as a side dish, and I would have turned him down. I couldn’t stay here. With just under five weeks left, the only thing preventing me from counting the days with joy was the prospect of being unemployed and having to confess all to my parents.

“That’s fine,” I said.

“Thanks, Carly.”

Now I could go. I paused at the door. “Could I ask… Did Stuart say why he’d done it? Signed off on the artwork, I mean.”

Maurice clasped his hands on the desk. “Strange, really. He insisted he knew nothing about it. He said the artwork had come to him with a sticker on it, showing an NGA-approved agency and relevant code. When I asked him why, if that were the case, he’d felt the need to sign off on it in the first place, he claimed not to know and said he thought someone had made a mistake in giving it to him. He couldn’t argue with his signature, though. I showed it to him and he seemed quite confused.”

The artwork was on Maurice’s desk, tossed to one side like the offending object it was.

I had to have a look. “May I see?”

“Help yourself.”

I picked up the sheets and turned them over. No NGA sticker. Just a code and Stuart’s signature. It was obvious that he’d written that code himself. He’d used a distinctive green pen he always used to sign off on anything. Another affectation. This one had cost him his job. My angel had seen to that.

I left Maurice’s office. At the end of the corridor, a shape moved, like smoke drifting in the breeze. The death stench of lilies wafted over to me. Fainter this time.

In the space of two days, I passed my driving test, took over temporary custody of a brand-new, white Vauxhall Chevette and was offered a new job. Classified telesales supervisor at the
Midwest Times
. Much more my sort of role. Back on solid ground, at last.

But I hadn’t a clue what happened to Stuart after he left. Was that it? If so, why had my angel shown me such visions of hell all those years ago? Or was that particular hell reserved for my father?

As the weeks passed and my departure grew imminent, I decided that Stuart’s ignominious career meltdown was probably vengeance enough. Maybe he would end up selling toothpaste to his friends. Assuming he had any.

A few days before I left, the new temporary manager, Ray, asked to see me. I liked him. He was everything Stuart wasn’t. Good fun, knowledgeable and hardworking. In other circumstances, I could have enjoyed working with him. One of his first acts had been to reinstate Georgia.