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Authors: Fergus McNeill

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BOOK: Knife Edge
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Andreas gave him a slightly pained sidelong glance, then turned back towards the camera.

‘They keep requesting to change the specification,’ he explained. ‘What they are asking for is not so unreasonable if they are asking for it at the
start
, but we have spent already a lot of euros developing a solution which they now ask us to engineer again in a different way.’

There was an uncomfortable silence. Gina’s face was unreadable but Fraser shook his head and sighed.

‘This is getting expensive,’ he muttered.

Naysmith leaned forward, gently turning his pen around on the polished surface of the table. A glimmer of an idea was forming.

‘They’re tied in for a support contract, right?’ he asked, staring down at the reflections on the wood.


Ja
,’ Christof shrugged.

‘OK, how about we give them a choice?’ It was coming together now – there was a way they could fix this. He turned to look at the screen. ‘They can honour the original agreement and negotiate any changes at a sensible rate – which is fair enough –
or
if they keep pushing us for changes on the specification, then
we
only support what was originally specified.’

Andreas rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

‘But how would that work?’ Christof asked. ‘They’d have to line up additional support or the system would be vulnerable.’

‘Exactly,’ Naysmith replied brightly.

Christof was still frowning.

‘So what’s the difference to them?’ he frowned. ‘Won’t they just keep screwing us around?’

Naysmith glanced across at Gina, noting the faint smile that touched her lips. She knew where he was going with this.

‘Our support rate is approximately double the negotiated development rate,’ she said coolly. ‘In short, we charge them twice as much if they mess around. That’s what you’re thinking, Rob?’

Naysmith bowed his head to her slightly.

Andreas nodded. ‘It would give us a much stronger negotiating position.’

They were all quiet for a moment, considering the implications of such a move. In the end, it was Fraser who broke the silence with a soft chuckle.

‘Somebody needs to explain the perils of their situation to them.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Then they’ll be more inclined to do a sensible deal.’

There was a pause. On the screen, Christof glanced across at Andreas, who said nothing.

Naysmith leaned back in his chair and looked at Fraser.

‘I’ll do it,’ he said.

Fraser gave him a slow smile, then turned to the screen and raised an enquiring eyebrow.

‘All right with you?’ he asked.

‘That would be great.’ Andreas looked brighter now. ‘And it would mean
our
relationship with them could still be the same. Are you sure you don’t mind, Rob?’

‘No problem,’ Naysmith shrugged. ‘Sales are my responsibility, and I’m not going to pass the buck.’

He glanced across to Gina and gave her a quick grin.

‘Plus, I rather like the thought of being the bad guy.’

Gina shook her head and chuckled.

‘So we have a plan.’ Andreas smiled. ‘Let me know about the flights, and I’ll set up a meeting. Then maybe we can go for a meal with the team afterwards?’

‘An evening on the Reeperbahn?’ Naysmith spoke thoughtfully, then turned to smile at Andreas. ‘Now how could I refuse an offer like that?’

The meeting ran on until midday, when Andreas and Christof had to leave for another appointment. As the large screen went dark, Naysmith closed his laptop, lifted his bag onto the table and started packing away.

‘Hey!’ Gina snapped at him.

Naysmith looked across at her, puzzled.

‘Power supply.’ She pointed an accusing finger at him and he realised that he’d been rolling up the cables, ready to stow them away.

‘Sorry.’ He smiled as he slid the power supply back across the table to her. ‘Force of habit.’

‘If that was a habit, you wouldn’t keep forgetting to bring your own.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s almost lunchtime. Did you want to come and grab something with Fraser and me?’

‘I’d like that. Give me five minutes to make a call?’

‘That’s fine.’ She stood up and followed Fraser out of the room.

Kim answered on the third ring.

‘Hello?’

‘Hey, beautiful, how’s it going?’

‘I’m fine.’ Her voice seemed subdued. Maybe he’d caught her at a bad time. ‘How was your meeting?’

Naysmith leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the tiny recessed lights above the table.

‘It was OK,’ he shrugged. ‘Listen, I’m going for lunch with Fraser and Gina in a minute, but I wanted to let you know that I’ll probably need to pop over to Hamburg this week.’

‘When are you going?’

‘Not sure,’ he replied, ‘I haven’t checked the flights yet – but I should only be away one night.’

‘OK. Will you let me know once it’s booked?’

She must be thinking about their day out together. He’d almost forgotten.

‘Kim?’ He softened his voice for her. I know I said we’d take the day off on Friday, but I think that might be difficult now. Any chance you can shift your day off to next week?’

‘Yes, that should be all right. I’ll speak to Marcus this afternoon.’

‘Thanks. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘No, of course not.’

He thought she might have sounded more disappointed, but no matter.

‘You’re the best,’ he told her. ‘Listen, I’ll call you this afternoon once I know about the flights.’

‘OK, enjoy your lunch.’

He smiled and got to his feet.

‘I will. Catch you later.’

It was a shame about Friday, but Kim had been very understanding, and he’d make it up to her. Leaning forward, he picked up his bag and slipped the strap over his shoulder. It was a pity about the Bristol woman too – he’d hoped to start looking for her, but now that would have to be put back as well. Frowning, he straightened his jacket and walked towards the door.

Minor delays.

But it wouldn’t change his plans.

14
Thursday,
19
June

Kim followed Rob out of the kitchen and into the hallway, watching as he patted his pockets, checking for his passport, his wallet.

‘Got everything?’ she asked.

He turned to face her, his expression softening into a warm smile.

‘I think so,’ he said, picking up his phone and slipping it into his jacket. ‘Anyway, it’s just for the one night.’

He stooped to pick up his bag and retrieved his car keys from the hall stand.

‘I’d better get going.’

She nodded silently, twirling a strand of hair absently across her mouth.

‘Kim?’

She started, finding his eyes on her, watchful, thoughtful.

‘Yes?’

He moved closer, his hands reaching up towards her throat, but she managed not to flinch. They moved higher, gently cupping her face and lifting it to his. She exhaled, hoping it sounded like longing rather than relief.

‘I want to kiss you goodbye.’ His eyes were smiling again.

She let her lips part, relaxing into his embrace. Her eyes closed but the troubling images remained, despite the remembered desire she felt in her own kiss.

He released her and turned away, not noticing the trembling she felt in her body, not seeing the cracks she could feel in her own expression.

‘Right, now I really do have to go,’ he said, opening the front door and stepping out into the grey morning light.

‘Take care,’ she called from the shadow of the doorway.

‘I always do,’ he grinned, walking across to the car and unlocking it. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Kim watched as he pulled away, the red brake lights glowing brightly, until the car turned onto the road and disappeared round the corner. She stood there for a moment longer, then closed the front door and was immediately hit by the silence of the house. It was an almost tangible blow, like a wall of water that crashed over her and washed down the hallway, blanketing everything in a terrible stillness. Turning, she made her way through to the kitchen, walking softly to try and make her footsteps seem less noisy. In the middle of the room, she paused beside the table, her eyes flitting around the walls.

A quiet prison.

She frowned and bit her lip. This was home. Their home. Her home. But there was something troubling about the place now.

She found that she was holding her breath, and forced herself to exhale. What was the matter? Walking over to the counter, she reached for the kettle, but her hand felt clammy as it touched the handle, as did the other when she placed her palm on the worktop.

Was she sick?

Her breathing was still irregular, trying to balance itself back into a normal rhythm, but she couldn’t quite master it. She turned and walked back into the hallway, hesitating, unsure where she should go.

Part of her wanted to scream, to drive out the creeping quiet with a howl of anguish. Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, but the rising storm of thoughts stole her ability to cry. She trembled, rooted to the spot, until finally she sagged to her knees. Down was the only way she could move, fingers clawing at the carpet as she crumpled and curled up as though in pain.

That cold knot in her stomach, now a block of ice that burned, weighed her down. Her cheek touched the carpet, and a tear slid across her temple. Her mouth opened as though to cry out, but no sound would come.

How long would she have to lie here, waiting for something to happen?

She blinked away another tear and stared out across the floor. The hallway seemed long and tall from down here, the familiar made foreign and unsettling. Her nails gouged into the carpet once more as she managed to force out a strangled sob, tensing all her muscles as hard as she could before releasing them, gulping down a breath to make up for the ones she’d forgotten to take.

What was she going to do?

Everything was wrong. She raised her eyes to the front door, a tall and distant barrier looking strange from this angle.

The front door.

She closed her eyes, fearful of even the thought. Trapped behind a door that she was afraid to open. Afraid to step through. Because of the terrible uncertainty that lay on the other side.

Her body stiffened again, knuckles whitening, knees pressing together, teeth clenched and eyes screwing more tightly shut – desperately trying to drown out the noise that roared in her head.

And then, rising above it, there was a strange, despairing sound, like an animal crying in pain, rising in pitch and volume until it filled her ears and her mind. She felt her lungs empty, pushing out every last ounce, her throat twisting the air into a scream that shook the house.

When she came to herself, she was on her back, staring up at the pale ceiling. Her breathing was shallow now and her throat hurt. She felt weak, but sensed that she could move again.

At first, she just turned her head, gently rolling it to one side to look at the skirting board. Her fingers tensed and relaxed, the heel of her hand brushing the carpet. Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, swaying as her head came upright, a little faint.

She felt very small, a forlorn figure sitting at the foot of the stairs, walls on either side of her. But her eyes turned again to the door. Another breath – this one felt easier than the last, her body was levelling out. Good.

With one hand, she rubbed her eyes, surprised at the wetness on her lashes, the dried tears on her face. Had she managed to cry?

She got to her feet, steadying herself with a palm against the wall. The plaster felt cold, but her hand was no longer sweating, and she lowered her arms to her sides as she stared down the hallway.

She had to get out.

And now she was moving quickly, running up the stairs with an adrenalin-fuelled urgency, as though he might have somehow felt her thoughts and returned home to burst in through that terrifying door. She raced along the landing and into the bedroom, reaching for her handbag and checking for her purse. Her phone was beside the bag and she swept it up.

Sarah!

She would call her sister, tell her everything … Her finger hovered over the speed dial as she tried to imagine how she would say it.

No. Not now, not over the phone. She slipped the handset into her bag and went back out onto the landing. She needed to think. She needed to get out.

At the top of the stairs, she hesitated for a moment. What if he came back? What if he’d forgotten something and was driving back to the house? If he found her like this, sobbing and shaking …

Stop it!

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with clenched fists. Then, taking a gulp of air, she half stumbled down the first few steps, her eyes peering down to the hallway, her ears straining to hear the door.

But he didn’t come. She found herself at the foot of the stairs, with the silence drawing in around her, as though the entire house was waiting for something. Picking up her keys and grabbing her jacket, she took the final steps towards the front door and stood beside it, listening intently. Then, with a violent lunge, she snatched the handle and jerked the door wide open.

There was nobody there. She was on her own.

15

Kim slammed the car door shut, and fumbled her key into the ignition. It wasn’t cold, but she could feel herself shivering and turned the heater up. Gripping the steering wheel, she took a deep breath and looked out at the sleepy village, and their house.

What was she going to do?

She bit her lip, then frowned and dragged her gaze to the road.

Sarah. She would go and see Sarah.

She eased the car to the junction, then turned left and drove slowly away. At the main road, she turned left again, accelerating up the hill until the houses and trees slipped away behind her, and she emerged into the open countryside.

Her heart was still racing as she followed the road along the side of a broad green valley, and she had to brake suddenly for a speed camera that loomed up ahead of her. Nothing seemed real.

She wondered what she would say to her sister. How should she tell her – gradually, or just blurt everything out in one go before she lost her nerve? And what would Sarah say? Support her? Or shout at her for being so stupid?

BOOK: Knife Edge
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