From Tom, he wanted reassurance that Mr Edison was not just interested in his mother’s money. Looking out for her interests was something he had always done, and this was not about to stop. But he liked Tom Edison more than he had ever liked Derek Mills.

Helen had remained silent throughout the whole thing, and had an extremely pensive look in her eyes. I had not realised – for how could I? – what she had given up to look after her nephew, and how she had only taken the respite option of bringing him here when she had really had to. She loved her sister’s son,but the fact remained that he was her sister’s son and in bringing him up she had sacrificed the chance to have her own family – something she really would have loved. There had been opportunities over the years, but when the men heard how she put this lad first, they backed away and lost interest. She supposed that meant they truly had not wanted her or reciprocated her feelings. When really it showed her to be the selfless person she really was. I was certainly viewing her through different eyes to when I first met her on my interview day. She had appeared so closed off and it had not been until the day she got her heel caught in the car park grate that the cracks in her personal armour had begun to show.

I now appreciated the woman and her strength of character and could totally understand why her Grandfather would hand over the company to her.

The appearance of the old man at the door came as a surprise to all of us, and we all seemed to step forward to offer him a chair, while he leaned onto a walking cane and laughed a low rasping laugh. He wanted us all to go back to the room we had been in earlier. We were standing and Maggie was perhaps a bigger surprise, since Derek’s demise, she seemed to have lost several years in age and grown a few inches in height. She no longer wore the frightened rabbit expression, and strode from the room as a woman with purpose. She followed her Grandfather and in turn we all followed the pair of them back along the passageway.

Mr Watt crossed the office and sat one more time in his chair – and maybe I was wrong, but he seemed smaller than he had done – and older, if that were possible. Maybe seeing Derek shooting himself had actually taken much more from him than we had first thought and he wasn’t as robust as he believed himself to be.

Most of his later years were not spent as a ‘pipe and slippers, pottering about in the garden’ he had kept going and going. There were things to do, a company to run, employees to overlook and grandchildren – and indeed their children – to care for. As for him, well Mrs Pipe saw to everything he needed, he really did not know what he would have done without the woman.

Now he allowed Helen to arrange the paperwork for him, and as we were all given a copy to read – this time my husband had joined us also – the telephone rang in the hall and Mrs Pipe could be heard picking up the receiver. She put her head around the door and called for Helen to take the call, so she left the room. Mr Watt sat back in his chair and shut his eyes for a few minutes while we waited for Helen to return. When she did, she went to Maggie and took her hands, telling her sister she was free. For Derek had died en route to the hospital. As we all took this in, Lorraine had crossed to the desk and was gently shaking Mr Watt. But he now had seen and heard essentially what he needed to and this had been enough for Mr James Watt.

His light had finally been extinguished.

Derek had left under a cloud and his leaving had been covered by Mr Edison telling colleagues that Mr Mills had opted for early retirement due to ill health. Where he would loved to reveal to everyone what a brute this man was, Maggie did not want to press charges against her husband, and had told Tom she would leave if he told the truth.

So the pretence continued, along with the purchase of more make-up by Margaret Osmington Mills, whose only crime was to accept more than friendship from someone who genuinely cared for her. Dean knew that his mother was still being beaten by Derek, and that she still would not tell, and had gone to visit his Great Grandfather for advice on how to get proof. Together they had come up with the idea of placing the tiny cameras inside the light fittings then inside the bulbs themselves. Dean had by this time ceased to live with his mother and her second husband, but still had his key so one day, when he knew Derek was out playing golf, he went to the house and changed all the bulbs to those with cameras installed in them , and recently had changed some of them in order to see just was going on in his mother’s home.

As Dean was telling us what had been going on, Derek had sat and grown more and more dejected and Margaret more and more scared. Suddenly a gunshot rang out in the room, and we all gasped, except James Watt, who simply picked up his office telephone, called for an ambulance, then called for the police to attend.

While we waited for the paramedics to arrive, Mrs Pipe stayed with Derek and the rest of us left the room. My husband was still in the kitchen, and someone had found him a radio. He had plugged his headphones into it and was listening to a comedy on BBC Radio 7. He had not heard the gunshot, but was chuckling away to himself over a recently discovered Hancock episode

The ambulance came up the drive and he was genuinely surprised to see it. I told him what was going on to date, and straight away he wanted know that I was alright, though it was abundantly clear that I was, though a little shaken. It was not every day that I saw someone shoot themselves in the head.

Helen disappeared and when she returned half an hour later, the paramedics – and Derek – had gone

She said her Grandfather was having a little rest , he was not as young as he liked to think he was, and though he had appeared unruffled, he too was a little shook up. Mrs Pipe came into the kitchen and straightaway started preparing food for everyone, saying we needed fortification after the unpleasantness. Dean was leaning over Maggie asking if she wished to continue – did she want a lie-down? She said she was fine and just needed a sandwich. If anything she looked relieved, as if a weight had been lifted. Tom had stayed away, but glancing at Dean, as if for permission, he took a step towards Maggie. She got up and seemed to almost float into his arms. He gave her a big squeeze and the reassurance that soon they would be able to start their life as a couple – of course if this were alright with Dean?

Lorraine sat at the table, checking her notes, she was worried that the police would want a copy of the ‘minutes’ of this particular meeting, but Dean assured her that they would have everything they needed, when he submitted the photographic evidence.

For when the lightswitch first failed to bring light to the room, a bulb had been fitted by Mrs Pipe -as we had all seen, but this one had the camera lens inside which captured sound and image.

I now felt part of an audience, my participation not required, and my instinct told me to get out, collect my husband and other belongings, so we could escape this madhouse, but as a would-be writer, I saw it as fodder for a future novel. On a more base level, I was intrigued, while working at the company, many questions had formed and it looked like at last I may get the answers.

Mr Watt was not at all perturbed by the gun and treated the whole thing as a spat between boys in a playground – with himself as a master, sorting it out. After telling the two men to pull themselves together and act like the adults they supposedly were, he turned to the rest of us, telling Lorraine that there would be some parts of this she needn’t minute and that was one of them!

As he began to talk, Mrs Pipe bustled in with a tray of tea and coffee, and a large silver tray, complete with biscuits. She set this down and moved to Mr Watts’ side, almost in a protective manner. A cloud had come over , and the sky outside had become dark. Someone had flicked the lightswitch – but nothing happened. Mr Watt just sighed – another bulb gone – and Mrs Pipe left to find a replacement. The elderly gentle man leant forward and switched his desk lamp on. Still we all sat. An acting troupe awaiting direction.

But Mr Watt started talking generally, not giving away why we had all been gathered, while Mrs Pipe returned, drew a chair into the centre of the room and changed the bulb. Not one of the men present had seen fit to help her, indeed she was not the sort of person who needed help. She got down and once again Mr Watt drew the file towards him, flicking through the paperwork until he came to the buff coloured envelope. He looked up and around the room, taking in all the faces.

Talking about his advancing years and the rapid advances in technology, he called forward Deano, and told us how proud he was of his great grandson, and how it would be his wish that one day the lad took over his empire. Dean in his eyes had shown extreme promise with the development of the cameras within the workplace – for it had been his idea to place them within the light bulbs themselves, where they were non-intrusive and people knew not of their location, but simply continued in their day to day lives.

But it was also a way of detecting unnecessary behaviour among his employees. This was how he had found out about Maggie and Mr Edison. But also how he had discovered that Derek had been beating his grand daughter, so she had to go to work wearing thick make-up to cover the bruises. While he understood that Maggie was in the wrong for the affair with Tom, it was never the right way for Derek to hurt her in this way. Maggie had not had the most salubrious of upbringings, and Dean had been raised between Helen and Mrs Pipe, following the death of Giles Osmington, Dean’s father. Maggie’s own parents, had both been alcoholics and the young girl had sat forgotten in a room, day after day as her mother and father drank themselves into early graves in their forties. A pattern had emerged and Maggie herself had been siezed from the path to the off-license by her grand father, but almost not soon enough, as after one night out she had come home and collapsed in a stupor. James knew he had to sort this out, and she had come to live with him, in this huge house.

Giles was a friend of James Watt and a fair bit older than Maggie, but had taken to the young girl at a family gathering, seeing her cower timidly in a corner. He offered Maggie solace – and her son – whom she adored. Giles had a house a few hours north of James and he took Maggie to live there as his young wife. It was on a visit to his grand daughter and lifelong friend that James decided to open Brightsparkz in what had turned out to be a great location, carrying his business forward onto the successful path he felt it belonged.

But since Giles had died, she had come into the acquaintance of Derek Mills and become Margaret Osmington Mills, a woman of some financial substance. Derek knew he had his work cut out to get hold of her money and at first had played the dutiful beau, wooing and charming her, and in turn marrying her, before being told in a visit to the family home that Margaret’s money was held in trust by her Grandfathers estate, until such time as he saw fit for her to have it or he passed on.

It looked like no-one liked Derek Mills, least of all his stepson Dean and he had long had suspicions that Derek was up to something in order to get his mother’s money.

Tom Edison played golf on the same course as Derek and the two had built up a tentative friendship, though Tom did not approve of the way Derek treated his wife and and her son, Through strange coincidence, both men worked at Brightsparkz, though Derek had been more than put out when Tom had risen to the position of CEO, and was relatively well-respected by the employees, where as Derek himself was still in the warehouse packing, but at least could keep an eye on his wife. This had come to an end eighteen months ago when Derek thought something was going on between Tom and Maggie – which was actually before they had started the affair proper – and had beaten Maggie black and blue in the car park. He had chosen a time when he thought no-one had seen, and his rage had come out at this man having everything he though should be rightfully his. He had no longer been able to keep it under control. But someone had seen and told Dean. The cover had been blown and his services to Brightsparkz were no longer required.

Chapter Sixteen

Now wondering what this elderly gentleman would be like, I walked back around the pathway that led to the kitchen – and the door we had entered through last night. On my way round I went past a window that had been opened slightly, and could hear a vacuum cleaner, as the workings of a large house had swung into action. The next window along was also opened, but through this came bursts of hurried dialogue. Continuing my journey, one or two lines carried on the morning breeze, snatched words escaped, making me wonder still what was going on.

The kitchen door was open and so I went in, clutching the file. My husband was sat reading a paper, and looking quite settled in his surroundings. It was a homely kitchen, though it had been modernised, this had been done in sympathy and all modern gadgets were in situ, including a huge refrigerator, and the customary range cooker, though there was also a conventional cooker.

At that moment Deano poked his head around the corner of the door, and asked me if I was ready. I followed him from the room and along a stone flagged passageway, down past walls adorned with family photographs – a surprising insight into the life of people I had only considered as employers, and even then only for a short time. Deano gave nothing away as we traipsed along- nothing was said about the file I was carrying, or the certificate that we had just passed, mounted on the uneven wall, in the name of Dean Mills, awarded for accreditation of Electricians Guild Level Four – Installation.

Then without warning, he turned left and we entered into a wood panelled room. One wall was lined with books, and had a large mullioned window, the far wall had chairs against it, none of these were currently occupied. Before I even looked, I knew that there would be a large desk and sat behind it would be the mastermind of Brightsparkz himself.

What I was not prepared for was exactly how this man would look. I knew he was elderly, and obviously I had seen elderly people, but nothing could prepare me for my first glance of him. Mr James Watt.

With a light in his eyes, belying his true age, he sat up in his chair and bade me a good morning and acknowledged my work in his company to date – brief as it had been. I could only wonder at how much information this man knew, surely it wasn’t really necessary to know this much about someone who had only been an employee for such a short time. We passed a few minutes chatting before others made their way into the room, each of them dressed sombrely, as if about to attend a funeral. I mentally counted them in – Maggie – whom everyone seemed to call Margaret, Deano, Mr Edison, Deano and Helen. Even Lorraine had joined us, and she carried with her a notebook and pen, sitting to one side of Mr Watt, ready to take notes. It was extremely formal, and to a degree, orchestrated, yet when I had been speaking to Mr Watt, he had been courteous and friendly. I put down the file on his desk. He reached forward, but before he could reach it, Helen Bright stepped forward and got there ahead of him. She told him that a page of the handover document was missing, and she was unsure of it’s whereabouts. Mr Watt knew of this page, and he, along with Dean, had set up a system between them to find out exactly who had it. All would become clear in – at this, he checked his watch – about five minutes or so.

While we were all left wondering how he could know, a car thundered into the parking area, a door slammed and shouting could be heard as Mrs Pipe let the car’s angry occupant into the building. She was talking to him in a calm, no-nonsense way, but as he burst into the office, it had not worked.

It was Derek Mills, Maggie’s husband. Deano’s dad? Actually, looking at him, I began to doubt that he was. It was not so much his angry presence that was threatening, more the gun he was carrying, and now pointing at Tom Edison. Maggie stepped closer to Mr Edison, and her grandfather called order to the situation, in a surprisingly loud and authoritative voice.

Shortly after dawn broke and I had finally accustomed to the sound of the seagulls, it seemed the entire countryside was awake, but the house itself slumbered on. It didnt feel quite right, staying in this old man’s home but not having met him. Yet not even that – this guy was ultimately my employer, maybe it was some strange sort of team building thing and today we’d be packed off with a compass and swiss army knife and told to catch our lunch, after a go at paintballing in the house’s extensive grounds.

 There was a at the door and Mrs Pipe could be heard on the landing outside telling us to watch out there was a tray of tea things outside the door and a bale of clean towels- sorry they weren’t the proper white ones, she did hope that cream would be okay? Breakfast if we wanted it would be down in the kitchen, but we could eat it in the dining room if we wanted to.

Was there no end to this lady’s hospitality? I looked at my husband, still snoring gently. He must have had a long drive last night – drive? That was it, that was what had been puzzling me. He had not driven any sort of distance for seventeen years – and I had just accepted that he had driven all that way – in the dark as well. I could not get my head round this and felt like waking him to ask, but then I looked at him and thought I would let him sleep, and maybe I would go and have a chat to Mrs Pipe in the kitchen. If I could remember how to get there. I also wondered where Lorraine had slept last night. Oh well, it would probably be quite easy to tell once I saw her.

About half an hour later I was down in the kitchen offering to help Mrs Pipe, but told to sit down and not be silly. Then I heard footsteps approach and another door opened. It was Maggie. She sat down and looked over at me before muttering a good morning to me. It was becoming more like a work outing might be – but with a tad more farce about it, as Deano now entered, with Lorraine tailing behind him, all doe-eyed and dreamy. Which answered my previous question. But what surprised me more was Deano’s greeting to Maggie, for he clearly called her Mum. Then, in what I thought could possibly be top of the bill in this particular act, Mrs Pipe referred to Maggie as Margaret and said there had been no sign of her sister yet – another house guest? Deano watched me watching Mrs Pipe and explained that Maggie was his Mum and Auntie Helen’s sister. Though I noted that he did not mention his father. In the middle of all this explanation, my husband had come down to join us and also we had been joined by Mr Edison. Who was no relation to anyone but would like to be – I thought to myself as I watched him watch Maggie.

Still feeling in the dark about the Brights and their strange family gatherings, I asked if it were so close to the sea that I could walk to a beach? Deano and Maggie laughed and Maggie gave me directions to the rear of the grounds where I would find a little gate that led directly to a private beach.

My husband said he wanted another coffee, so I thought I would go alone. Once I the garden, I turned and looked back at the house, shrouded in February mist . Deano called to me that we would be going to see his grandfather at ten and would need the file from my car. Did I have a watch on me? I had my mobile but wondered what the file had to do with it, before remembering the letter I had found. But try as I might I could not recall what the letter had said. Only something about a missing page. As I crossed the lawn and found the beach, I drew my woollen cardigan tighter around me and tied my scarf a little more snug .

Standing watching the sea always had a calming effect on me – and while I did not know why I needed that inner calm feeling – it was nice to feel the peace being restored.

On my return to the house, I took in more of my surroundings, you could see the house quite clearly from the gateway . It was sort of sandstone, with mullioned windows and, as I remembered from last night,the grandeur of the house was still quite imposing. Especially since the mist had now lifted. Still the place had its’ own character and you could see that it would be a brilliant place for kids to spend school holidays, with all the places to hide.

I checked my phone, I had been able to ring my sister in law and she had reassured me everything was fine, not to worry, just be safe. I also had my car keys on me so picked up the file from the boot on the way back. It was nine forty five, the time for answering all my questions was drawing near.

Finally, we all got inside. Helen, myself, Deano and Lorraine – we had also been joined by the housekeeper, a stout elderly lady, who was busying herself boiling a kettle on a large range cooker. Helen and Deano were very familiar with her, and jokes were being cracked at her expense, which she took in good humour, the smile never far away from her crinkly mouth. One thing for sure- if wrinkle cream companies wanted a new model – she was a great ‘before’ advertisement. But to take them away would be to remove a part of her intrinsic character. So rare to find such a happy person, especially this time of night.

She was talking to Helen about not disturbing her grandfather any more tonight, there would be plenty of time in the morning to see him. I heard he ask if Margaret would be coming ‘with that brute of a husband ‘ and wondered how she knew about Derek – or if that were who she was talking about, what was the connection?

Talk then moved on to where everyone could sleep, and did she have enough beds made up? Did I want to call my husband and tell him I was safe? The house phone was just down that corridor, and a finger was pointed down a dark hall, that made me shiver just to look there. Deano laughed to see my shudder and then he and Helen began to relay stories about sneaking down for midnight snacks, but Mrs Pipe – the housekeeper- always knew who had been down most because the little flour trails underfoot always led back to the culprit’s bedroom. Out came the elaborate methods of getting Mrs Pipe off of the scent, walking to each others’ bedrooms, then sneaking inside to ‘borrow’ a pair of socks so the journey forth to their own rooms would go undetected.

It was gone one in the morning before any of us got any sleep, and I had felt myself yawn way before then, but had stifled it. I had texted a message to say I was okay and where I was, but had had no response, and could only hope the message had been received.

But it seemed all guests had not yet arrived and what felt like minutes after I finally shut my eyes, I was rudely awoken by headlights shining in an arc across the bedroom. I had not realised I was at the front of the house and was a little disorientated. The loud banging at the door was not enough to make Mrs Pipe cross – I had gone in search of a glass of water and I could hear her talking as she walked along a passageway below.

I heard her exclaim that Margaret should have used her keys – and what a good idea to car share with  Mr Edison, much better for the environment, save on those carbon footsteps. Then I heard Maggie’s voice correcting her in a tired voice. After more discussion about Maggie being in her ‘old room’ and Mr Edison being shown to a guest room, but please keep it down a bit – quiet was once again restored.

I got into the bed and once again had just got off to sleep when yet more headlights swept across the room – I could only hope this grandfather had his room at the back of the house and was a heavy sleeper. Poor Mrs Pipe – still the unshakeable housekeeper could be heard trudging the hallway towards the front door, but as a huge surprise, I heard a voice asking to see me, and before too long there was a gentle knock at my door, and Mrs Pipe announced my ‘guest’.

I was certainly taken aback to see my husband poke his head around the door, and immediately asked if everyone was okay at home. Before he could answer I was half dressed and ready to be off and headed to hospital bedsides if need be. He reassured me everyone was fine, his sister had the kids and that the reason he had not responded to my text was that he had been driving. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and somewhere in my consciousness a spark was ignited. But it had been a long day, and we could deal with whatever it was in the light of day. Which surely would not be far away – the night seemed to have gone on forever.

We settled ourselves down after a quick call to my sister in law to let her know all was well.

Which it was – for a while………….

Once again we had a car on our tail, and I was pretty sure it was Maggie and Tom Edison. I wasn’t sure either of them would be armed – though they spent special times together in the company stationery cupboard – maybe one of them would pull out a staple gun or something.

Though what if it wasn’t Tom and Maggie, maybe they too were on this mission to wherever, and someone were following the four of us? Maybe that was the armed car Helen was referring to? How did Helen know where we were? Did she have some sort of tracking device set up? Was it on me – had it been planted in my car? And when had she had access to my car? It was locked when in the car park at work. Or I was in it either getting to or leaving from work..

A cold draught shook me violently from my thought train – no sorry it was just Lorraine, telling me yet another car had joined the race and from what she could tell, this one meant business. But the cold draught did not go away, and I told her to shut the window, especially after what we had been told. Snow Patrol were now playing and the sound was increasing. This was not on the the car cd player, but was in fact my own mobile. I asked Lorraine to flip it and speak for me. It was my little boy asking when I was coming home. She relayed my reply to him that Mummy would be back as soon as she could, and I would ring when I next stopped the car. As she closed off the call, I asked her why she had done this and she said that she needed me to know that yet another car was now bringing up the rear and she had seen the junction sign for the B359.

Thanking her, I pulled into the slow lane and got ready to leave the carriageway. Knowing that this was the last stretch of the journey, I should have been relieved but instead could feel a tension headache mounting, along with a fear of the unknown. What lay in wait with Helen at the Lodge?

We continued on the B route for the prescribed time and glancing at the dashboard clock I saw the time was now nearly ten o’clock. Up ahead I saw a figure in the road, waving at us to stop the car. Was that Helen Bright?

I slowed to a stop, and kept my window shut just for an instant to make sure it was her. She confirmed her identity and pointed towards the now open gate up a long drive, telling us to park there but remain there until she got up to us. She had to wait for the others, she said. Blimey was she having a party or something? Being sure she had not mentioned any others joining us, in fact, she had implied that we should make sure no others had joined us on our route.

Still, I drove through the darkness up the winding driveway, then suddenly before me a large house.

Hard to actually see any detail in the dark, for the inky blue of earlier had become the blackest of black, to the point of being reminiscent of the reapers’ cloak itself. The house was forboding in it’s very own grandeur, and I was pleased that we had been told to wait here and not enter it. I turned the car away from it and parked facing down the drive from whence we had just arrived

There were a couple of lights on in the house, I could see the reflection on the pond to my left, and the sound of a dog’s bark made myself and Lorraine jump. Insomuch as we had not noticed advancing headlights of another vehicle to join us on the allotted parking area. It was the green saloon that we thought we had lost some fair few miles back. It too parked, and like us the inhabitants remained in the car. I was aware of a distant whoosh sound, and was wondering what on earth it could be, when a third car parked to our right. But this time Helen got out. Holding high a set of large keys, she beckoned us all to join her.

 Now I got out and waited as Lorraine followed suit and I could then lock my vehicle, before we both went and stood next to Helen. To wait for the occupants of the green car to do the same. As they did so, it was a surprise to see Deano emerge from the car, and his co-driver? Well there was no co-driver – sorry, kept doing that, slipping into police drama mode. Deano was alone. I felt rather than saw Lorraine’s blush. But Deano calmly walked over to Helen and gave her a quick hug.

She turned toward the house and instead of going to the large front door, took a little path to the left and walked us around the building and after a while we saw that we had come to a little side wing of the house, whereupon Helen held up her keys and studied them in the light given off by a large-ish window. She asked us all to be quiet for a few minutes. Even though her Grandad owned this place – there were a lot of  people asleep and it would not be nice would it to wake them up

I asked her what the whoosh was and it was Deano who replied to me that the whoosh was the sound of the sea – at the end of the garden. I was not sure if he had seen Lorraine by my side. I turned and to bring her forward, but she had left my side and was now next to Deano.

It was dark now, we were driving through the countryside, hopefully heading for the coast. Lorraine was trembling beside me, casting worried glances towards the phone, which was in a holster-type carrier. Neither of us were talking, though now and again Lorraine would look behind us and tell me that the green car was still in pursuit and actually doing quite an effective job of it, by her account. I had been lost and looking for the coast before – being from my family, with a father who had a penchant for short cuts to avoid traffic, it was quite a common memory

I told Lorraine to check the list of directions Helen Bright had given us on the last phone call. The time was going by, and I was hoping that the whole thing was really not happening, but the screeches of brakes of our follower served to remind me otherwise so we hurtled on through the night, the inky-blue fingers of a dark winter night reaching to pull us into their grasp, but not quite giving us the shelter we needed, as the car continued to track us. It had now been over an hour since the last call, still I did not have a final address of our destination.

Another ten minutes passed, and Lorraine announced that the car had gone. Now I felt more torn, where maybe I should have felt relief, maybe something had happened to it- or the driver – or maybe they knew a way in which they could get in front and cut us off. I looked at the road ahead, and asked Lorraine to check the directions – was that the main lights of a dual carriageway I could see?

It appeared I was right, and this spurred me forward, where I had begun to flail. If by some miracle we had lost the green car, maybe could stop and get a coffee and a sandwich, and refuel ourselves. Still no further instructions from Helen, and the time between the calls had grown. I began to hope she was okay, wherever she was.

Twenty minutes later, we took the decision to stop for a drink – and while we sat, nursing the hot chocolate – it was the right choice – I pondered over my career at BrightSparkz thus far. Had I really only been there a week?

What was this all about, people doing dark deeds in dark cupboards, bulbs that went pop in the night, family connections, secret cameras and mysterious messages on computers with no power.

Then to top it off a grandfather in ailing health and of advanced years, and a chase down to the coast in late February? I knew I had to let my family know that I was okay, but if my husband asked where I was – what could I tell him? Some roadside cafe sipping hot chocolate, when I could and would rather be at home with him and my children arguing about what televisual feast we enjoyed next. Immediately the tune for Spongebob came into my head and I decided that we should have a cd on when we returned to the car. It was then that I noticed , a woman across the aisle in another booth was glancing surreptitiously in our direction before hiding, as I tried to catch her eye. There was something odd about her.

Who was she – this woman? I nudged Lorraine and we got up to leave. At the door of the cafe, I glanced back, in time to see a stocky guy cross the room and head towards where she sat.

Immediately I worked out who the couple were – I had seen them together in shady circumstances before. Quicker now, we got to to the car, and left the services, resuming our coast bound journey.

Maggie and Tom Edison had joined the works outing to the seaside.

Back in the car, I flicked on the cd player, but the disc had become stuck, so it looked we were in for a lovely classical piece featuring Axel F and the Crazy Frog. There was no justice in the world when this was one of a few tracks that did not jump, despite the times it got suffered – I meant – played.

Then the phone rang, interrupting the little green critter and his nonsensical burblings.

Helen told Lorraine to be extra careful, the car now on our tail was armed, and it would not be too long before we met up with her, but the last stretch of driving meant leaving the carriageway and getting onto a B road – and to look out for the B359. We were to drive thirty miles down this road, then we would come to the gated driveway of a private house, with a small lodge. She would be waiting at the lodge.

This was one seaside journey which would not end in a sandcastle competition and an ice cream on the pier….

I had to ring round and make some hasty childcare arrangements- and then follow the list of instructions which had been left to me in a separate envelope. The first was to check that Mr Edison was still there and not suspicious. Then I had to choose someone to take with me as further instructions would be issued en route and obviously if I were driving I would not be able to answer the mobile. I knew who I would ask before I had read the rest of the sentence.

Quickly I got myself ready and persuaded Lorraine to join me. Her reluctance was short lived when I told her she would score points with Deano for helping me in this task. She grabbed her bag, and without further ado we left the room. I could hear Mr Edison on the phone behind another door. He didn’t sound particularly pleased, but we didn’t have time to find out why,  went downstairs, across the car park and over to my car.

I looked up and saw Mr Edison – at the same instant he finished his call and caught my eye. He seemed to be mouthing ‘WAIT!’ but of course we didn’t, got in the car and left the car park. It was just before school let out and traffic was building. I had to get out onto the motorway as soon as possible.

We made it across town before hitting the first round of roadworks, and the first phonecall from Ms Bright shrilled through the peace in the car. I handed the phone to Lorraine and she answered what turned out to be a brief call. Did I have the file in the boot – this felt like an insult to my intelligence. Were we being followed? Not as far as I could tell – thought now obviously I was more on my guard.

We were given a list of times when the phone would ring, and with that the call was cut short.

Following this, our journey continued, and the red light appearing on my fuel gauge indicated we would have to stop soon and fill up. It was as I paid at pump as per instruction, that I first became aware of the green car that had just entered the forecourt behind us. We left and it left too without refuelling. Deciding not to worry Lorraine with my concerns- for she was of the jittery panicky sort- I kept quiet and carried on driving, time had passed, the light was going and people had dipped headlights on. Checking the dashboard clock, I noted that we were due for the next call soon. Flashing a look at Lorraine I saw she was dozing, and just hoped that when the call came she would not be asleep. Fishing about in the glove compartment I found a mint, and as it seemed to be all alone, I decided to eat it.

Lights flashed behind me and I realised I had slowed right down and the juggernaut following in my wake was not best pleased. I speeded up and as I did so two things happened, the mobile rang, frightening poor Lorraine almost out of her skin, and the green car pulled up alongside us. Lorraine asnwered and gave Ms Bright – Oh please, call me Helen- a quick update. She asked what road we were on, and instructed us to take the next turn off. I checked mirrors and indicated as the countdown signs appeared beside us. The juggernaut was now beside us and provided some sort of shelter from the green car, which by now Lorraine had managed to work out was trailing us.

At the dawning of this realisation, as I suspected she might, she began to panic. I dared not admit to her that inside I too were panicking just a little – I had never been chased before, and had watched Police, Camera, Action with some trepidation, always a little relieved it weren’t me ! I had not been able to update my husband as to my whereabouts and knew by now he would be worried. Not a driver, he would not have been able to come to our aid, of course we were not in any danger but if we were…..

Now we had left the main carriageway and were on an A road. A glance in my rear view mirror told me that for the moment we had appeared to have shaken the green car. Lorraine had become quiet fidgety, but now we had lost it, she relaxed. Inwardly I took a deep breath. But before I could rest too easily, the headlights were once more behind us. The chase was back on…………..

I opened the letter and began to read….

‘ I bet you wonder what on earth you let yourself in for working here..I am sorry I was so abrupt with you when you first joined,but I could see that you would be exactly the right person for this task. There were a few checks I had to make first – to just reassure myself I had indeed made the best recruitment choice.

I am being followed, I wasn’t sure but now I am. Someone wants me out of the picture, and I think it is something to do with my grandfather. Its definitely to do with the business, which as I believe I told you, is due to be signed over to me, when my grandfather becomes too frail. Well sadly, he is reaching that point, but I need to know more company history from him. So I must get down to see him. Before Tom or Maggie find out. I thought I could trust Maggie to help – but she just tells Tom everything. I cannot risk that.

I will ring you later, probably around five and give you three rings first so you can get to a place to receive the call. There will be things I need you to do. By now you should have received the mobile – Its in a case very similar to yours. Because they would spot a different one. When it rings only answer if you have had the three ring code. I will not be able to text.

I am trusting you to be able to help me

Soon

Helen Bright’

So what was I to do, sit and wait for this call ? Lorraine put her head round the door – was I coming for lunch then? We sat with the others and laughed and joked, but my mind was really not there – what in the world was going on – and where were those cameras hidden? I could see Lorraine, she was talking to me but her eyes flicked from me to Deano and lingered longer than necessary as he delivered the punchline to a joke he probably thought was new – it wasn’t. I could feel Maggie watching me, but when I tried to catch her eye she looked away, also to give Deano attention and enjoy his entire repertoire of ‘funnies’   The lad definitely understood how to hold court with his audience. Soon he got up and pulled on a jacket. As he did, quite a few of the others did the same. Ahh, cigarette time. A time to ’smirt’ in the freezing February weather. What a great word, to smirt – or smoke and flirt – a term I had read in a glossy magazine while waiting at an agency just to be told again they had no work.

Soon it were time to go upstairs. Then I heard it – the three ring code.

I was on the first landing – where could I go? Before I knew what I was doing, I had sat myself in that cupboard. Then the phone rang, I answered , knowing of course who it would be but not expecting a trip to the coast!