Cheryl took two steps forwards, then realised she was clenching her fists. It took an effort to open them again. “I’ve just driven an hour with Leo to get here, Maggie. I’ve packed a bag and cancelled my other plans.”
Nobody needed to know she’d had no other plans.
Maggie’s sheepish grin finally fell, but she only gave a shrug. “Sorry, Cher. Really, I am.”
Cheryl took another step forward, fists re-clenching. Was Maggie even hearing her? “Seriously? That’s all you’ve got to say? Jesus!”
John stepped in front of Maggie protectively and held a leather-gloved hand up to Cheryl in a way she didn’t much like, but as dismissive as the gesture was, he didn’t seem upset. In fact, he looked disappointed by the mix-up. “Look,” he said, walking over and putting a leather-gloved hand on her lower back. “I’m sure we can squeeze an extra person in, Cheryl. They specifically stated six, but you’re here now, aren’t you? Even if you can’t take part in the escape room, you can at least stay at the hotel and have fun with the rest of us. We’re not going to send you back home by yourself. That would be wretched of us.”
Maggie smiled and clapped her hands together. “See! It’s all worked out for the best.”
Cheryl sighed. She was still angry but couldn’t see the virtue in remaining that way. She was there to have fun. “Thanks John. This is really embarrassing.”
He removed his hand from her back and gave her a smile. “Don’t be silly, Cher. I’m glad you’re here. More the merrier.”
“I’m glad you’re here too,” said Leo, and he glared at Maggie to show whose side he was on. He even muttered the word idiot, which caused Maggie’s eyes to widen as if he’d just called her something unforgivable.
Cheryl rolled her eyes. Drama queen.
John broke the tension by changing the subject. He had lost much of the formal tone he used at work, and Cheryl was amused to find that he had a mild Bristolian accent. “So, Leo? You find this place all right?”
“Yeah, boss, no probs whatsoever.” He trudged over to John and gave him a ‘man hug’ complete with pats on the back and ample groin distance between them. “Where are the others?”
John nodded over Leo’s shoulder toward the gravel road. “Looks like them now.”
Cheryl turned to see a tall black Range Rover bouncing down the gravel road. Behind the wheel was Monty, the company’s top salesman. In the back, sitting alone, was Happy, while Alfie, another lad from sales, sat in the front passenger seat. This was Alscon’s inner circle and, somehow, she had found herself right in the middle. The weekend might really help her job prospects.
Or it could be the weekend from hell.
Chapter Two
Monty — real name Mohammed Rizwan according to the numerous sales awards adorning his desk back at the office — parked his Range Rover and hopped down into the mud. Fully togged in a three-piece suit, Cheryl took pleasure seeing his shiny black loafers get spattered, but she then chided herself for being so mean.
Happy disembarked after Monty, then Alfie clambered out the front passenger side and lit a fag. The three of them marched towards the hay barns like something out of Reservoir Dogs.
Bum-bumbum-bumbum-bumbum-bumbum-babum.
Cheryl chuckled to herself, then stood aside as everyone greeted one another. She grew more and more awkward until, eventually, Monty noticed her presence and looked her up and down as if he were judging a poodle at a dog show. He offered his hand and it was ice-cold as she shook it. “You’re the new bird doing the computers and stuff, yeah?”
She forced a smile to her face. “John hired me as an online marketer a few months back. I work in the cubicle next to Leo’s.” She wanted to add that her cubicle was also only ten feet from his, and that there had been ample opportunities for him to welcome her to the team.
“I’ve seen you plenty, luv. Sorry, we ain’t got to know each other yet, but you know how it is with sales, yeah? Gotta stay on the ball or the rabbit gets away.”
“Um, yeah, good metaphor. So everyone tells me you’re the company’s top dog. Is that true?”
Monty did a little head jig and thumbed his cropped beard. She wasn’t sure what the gesture represented, but it reeked of arrogance. “I can’t comment on what others say about me, luv. I’m just trying to do a job, innit?”
She raised an eyebrow, pretending to be interested in his patter. “So how do you convince people our tiles are the best? What’s your secret, Monty?”
He put his hand on her shoulder and looked her right in the eye. His musky cologne irritated her nostrils and made her want to sneeze. “I don’t sell tiles, luv. I sell a service, yeah? You buy tiles from Monty Rizwan and you know you’re gunna get looked after proper.”
Cheryl strained to maintain her polite smile, and it became progressively harder when Monty declined to release her shoulder and kept staring at her intensely. It was like he was trying to hypnotise her, or perhaps he thought he was seducing her. Gross!
Eventually John saved her from the awkwardness by clapping his gloved hands together and getting everyone’s attention. “Okay,” he said. “Monty will give a brief talk at the hotel tonight about how he sells twice as many tiles as everyone else combined, but today we’re here to have fun. No work talk, okay? That’s an order.”
Leo gave a cheer. “Nice!”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Happy, although Cheryl imagined his idea of play greatly differed to Leo’s. Maggie gave a double thumbs-up like a hyperactive school kid and then shoved her hands in her pockets as if she couldn’t control them. What was wrong with her today? She’d claimed not to want to even come this weekend, but she was more excited than any of them. Cheryl couldn’t help but glare at her.
Is she playing some kind of game? Or has she lost the plot?
“So where is this thing?” asked Alfie between drags on his cigarette. He was the company’s junior salesman and John’s nephew, and while Cheryl didn’t know his exact age, it was possible he was still holding onto teenhood by a month or two. He still sported the odd zit but was hot as hell otherwise. The problem was Alfie knew it and carried himself as if he were putting on a show for the world. His inky-black hair was slick with gel, and only a surgeon’s scalpel could have shaped his beard. She considered that his over-confidence might be a defence-mechanism stemming from him having a stunted left hand, which she always found difficult not to stare at. Before Alfie received an answer to his question, he looked at Cheryl and asked another. “How come you’re here? I thought it was just us six.”
Cheryl gave Maggie a sidewards glance. “I think the plan is to smuggle me in.”
“That’s cool. More pretty ladies the better, innit? And Maggie’s already spoken for.”
Cheryl noticed the comment caused John and Maggie to glance sheepishly at one another. She assumed Alfie was referring to the fact Maggie was married, but it seemed to imply something else. It might also count as flirting, so she tried her hardest not to blush.
“Isn’t somebody supposed to meet us here?” asked Leo. He turned a circle and scanned the farmyard, but all that existed was an old tractor with a slashed tyre and two steel sheds. Beyond that lay only frost-tipped fields and the gravel road. “What’s the deal with this place? What are we supposed to do?”