Page 22 of Storm of Bells
In fact, they seemed to like them a littlebit too much. And one could also say that they behaved slightly,um…eccentric after tasting them. But surely that was just acoincidence.
Anyway, the people whoshouldhaveliked them didn’t. I spotted no long lines of hopeful mothers infront of apothecaries, waiting to buy my fabulous new product tosoothe their child’s cough. But then—maybe that was not surprising,considering that there didn’t seem to be a single bloody sick childwithin a hundred miles. Damn! Once in a lifetime you actually needa plague, but does God oblige? Of course not! He keeps all the goodstuff for the ancient Egyptians.
That night, I lay awake, staring at the moonshining in through the window, one question running through mymind, over and over:
What if he really does it? What if he firesme?
The mere thought sent a wave of fiery ragethrough me. I didn’t deserve to be fired! I had done good work overthe years! More than that! I had done things no normal secretarycould be expected to do! I had travelled with him to the farthestcorners of the earth, stood by him through thick and thin, riskedmy bloody neck for him over and over again—
I froze.
Something wentclickin my mind as thefacts shifted to form a very simple picture. Of course. How stupidhad I been to not see it before?
Risking my neck for him over and overagain…
The silly, chauvinistic son of a bachelor! Hereally was in love with me, wasn’t he?
The problem was that he was about as good atknowing what a woman truly needed as a rock was at dancing ballet.Well…worse, actually. A rock wouldn’t be too stingy to buy properballet shoes.
He thought he knew what was best for me? Hethought he could control my life?
Well, we’ll just have to teach him a lesson,won’t we?
After all, Mr Ambrose’s company wasn’t theonly one that employed secretaries.
Rolling over, I snuggled into my pillow andfell asleep with a smile on my lips.
***
The next morning, I rose, slipped out intothe back garden and, as usual, put on my male attire. Just to be onthe safe side, I pocketed a bag of solid chocolate and afully-loaded revolver. I would have girded my loins, too, butunfortunately I didn’t own a gird and had no idea how to getone.
Placing my bowler on my head, I straightenedand regarded myself in the small, dirty mirror I had hung on thewall a few weeks ago.
‘Ready for battle?’ I asked myself.
As ready as you’re ever going to be,my mirror image silently replied.
Very well.
Or perhaps I should say—adequate.
Pushing open the door, I strode into thegarden and slipped through the back door out onto the street. Therewasn’t much traffic yet. Employees of Mr Rikkard Ambrose neverreally had problems with traffic congestion, because they had thegreat honour of going to work at least an hour before anybody elsedid. For half the pay.
Are you quite sure you don’t want to befired after all?
One corner of my mouth curled up in a smile.Yes. I was.
It didn’t take long for me to reach EmpireHouse. The colossus of a building stood as tall, proud and austereas ever. It practically seemed to scream ‘firing-time!’ When Ipushed open the front door and stepped into the entry hall, I sawSallow-Face’s expression, and it didn’t exactly improve myhopes.
‘Hello, Mr Linton,’ he said, in an unctuoustone that gave me fantasies of stuffing him head-first into thenearest waste-paper bin. ‘A wonderful morning, isn’t it?’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘It is?’
‘Oh yes. Wonderful prospects.’ Reaching out,he polished a spot on his already immaculate desk with his sleeve.‘You had better be heading up. Mr Ambrose has informed me that hewants to speak to you when you arrive.Urgently.’
‘Thank you.’ Stepping towards him, I reachedinto my pocket and pulled out a certain colourful paper bag.‘Bonbon?’
‘Well…I don’t mind if I do. Thank you. It’snice to see someone accept defeat with grace.’
