We walked up the drive towards a vast white hacienda-style ranch that would have been grandiose in California. In Cheshire, it just looked silly. I leaned on the doorbell. There was a long pause, Chronicle. For once, I didnt have to check ID before I served the papers. Yeah? he said, frowning. Who are you?
I leaned forward and stuffed the papers down the front of the toweling robe that was all he was wearing. Im Kate Brannigan, and you are well and truly served, I said.
As I spoke, over his shoulder, I saw a woman in a matching robe emerge from an archway. Like him, she looked as if shed been in bed, and not for an afternoon nap. I recognized her from the Chronicle too. From the diary pages. Former model Bo Robinson. Better known these days as the wife of the man Id just served with the injunction her solicitor had sweated blood to get out of a district judge.
Now I remembered what Id hated most about my own days as a process-server.
The last thing Donovan had said before hed pedaled off to the university library was, Dont tell my mum I got arrested, OK? Not even as a joke. Not unless you want her to put the blocks on me working for you again.
Id agreed. Jokes are supposed to be funny, after all. Unfortunately, the cops at Altrincham werent in on the deal. What I didnt know was that while Id been savoring the ambience of their lovely foyer (decor by the visually challenged, furnishings by a masochist, posters from a template unchanged since 1959) the desk sergeant had been calling the offices of Brannigan & Co to check that the auburn-haired midget and the giant in the sweat suit really were operatives of the agency and not a pair of smartmouthed burglars on the make.
Id barely put a foot inside the door when Shelleys voice hit me like a blast furnace. Nineteen years old and never been inside a police station, came the opening salvo. Five minutes working with you, and he might as well be some smackhead from Moss Side. Thats it now, his names on their computer. Another black bastard whos got away with it, thats how theyll have him down.
I raised my palms towards her, trying to fend off her fury. Its all right, Shelley. He wasnt formally arrested. They wont be putting anything into the computer.
Shelley snorted. Youre so street smart when it comes to your business. How come you can be so naive about our lives? You dont have the faintest idea what it means for a boy like Donovan to get picked up by the police! They dont see a hard-working boy whos been brought up to respect his elders and stay away from drugs. They just see another black face where it doesnt belong. And you put him there.
I edged across reception, trying to make the safe haven of my own office without being permanently disabled by the crossfire. Shelley, hes a grown man. He has to make his own decisions. I told him when I took him on that serving process wasnt as easy as it sounded. But he was adamant that he could handle it.
Of course he can handle it, she yelled. Hes not the problem. Its the other assholes out there, thats the problem. I dont want him doing this any more.
Id almost reached the safety of my door. Youll have to take that up with Don, I told her, sounding more firm than I felt.
I will, dont you worry about that, she vowed.
OK. But dont forget the reason hes doing this.
Her eyes narrowed. What are you getting at?
Its about independence. Hes trying to earn his own money so hes not dipping his hand in your pocket all the time. Hes trying to tell you hes a man now. I took a deep breath, trying not to feel intimidated by the scowl that was drawing Shelleys perfectly shaped eyebrows into a gnarled scribble. My hand on the doorknob, I delivered what was supposed to be the knockout punch. Youve got to let him make his own mistakes. Youve got to let him go.
I opened the door and dived for safety. No such luck. Instead of silent sanctuary, I fell into nerd heaven. A pair of pink-rimmed eyes looked up accusingly at me. Under the pressure of Shelleys rage, Id forgotten that my office wasnt mine any more. Now I was the sole active partner in Brannigan & Co, I occupied the larger of the two rooms that opened off reception. When Id been junior
These days, my former bolthole was the computer room, occupied as and when the occasion demanded by Gizmo, our information technology consultant. In our business, thats the polite word for hacker. And when it comes to prowling other peoples systems with cat-like tread, Gizmo is king of the dark hill. The trade off for his computer acumen is that on a scale of one to ten, his social skills come in somewhere around absolute zero. Im convinced that was the principal reason he was made redundant from his job as systems wizard with Telecom. Now theyve become a multinational leading-edge company, everybody who works there has to pass for human. Silicon-based life forms like Gizmo just had to be downsized out the door.
Their loss was my gain. There had had to be changes, of course. Plain brown envelopes stuffed with banknotes had been replaced with a system more appealing to the taxman, if not to the company accountant. Then there was the personal grooming. Gizmo had always favored an appearance that would have served as perfect camouflage if hed been living on a refuse tip.
The clothes werent so hard. I managed to make him stop twitching long enough to get the key measurements, then hit a couple of designer factory outlets during the sales. I was planning to dock the cost from his first consultancy fees, but I didnt want it to terrify him too much. Now he had two decent suits, four shirts that didnt look disastrous unironed, a couple of inoffensive ties and a mac that any flasher would have been proud of. I could wheel him out as our computer security expert without frightening the clients, and he had a couple of outfits that wouldnt entirely destroy his street cred if another of the undead happened to be on the street in daylight hours to see him.
The haircut had been harder. I dont think hed spent money on a haircut since 1987. Id always thought he simply took a pair of scissors to any stray locks whose reflection in the monitor distracted him from what he was working on. Gizmo tried to make me believe he liked it that way. It cost me five beers to get him to
Three months down the line, he was still looking the business, his hollow cheeks and bloodshot eyes fitting the current image of heroin addict as male glamour. Id even overheard one of Shelleys adolescent daughters mates saying she thought Gizmo was shaggable. That Trainspotting has a lot to answer for. All right, he mumbled, already looking back at his screen. You two want to keep the noise down?
Sorry, Giz. I didnt actually mean to come in here.
Know what you mean, he said.
Before I could leave, the door burst open. And another thing, Shelley said. Youve not done a new client file for Gloria Kendal.
Gizmos head came up like it was on a string. Gloria Kendal? The Gloria Kendal? Brenda Barrowclough off Northerners?
I nodded.
Shes a client?
I cant believe you watch Northerners, I said.
She was in here yesterday, Shelley said smugly. She signed a photograph for me personally.
Wow! Gloria Kendal. Cool! Anything I can do to help? The last time Id seen him this excited was over an advance release of Netscape Navigator 3.0.
Ill let you know, I promised. Now, if youll both excuse me, I have some work to do. I smiled sweetly and sidled past Shelley. As I crossed the threshold, the outside door opened and a massive basket of flowers walked in. Lilies, roses, carnations, and a dozen other things I didnt know the names of. For a wild moment, I thought Richard might be apologizing for the night before. He had cause, given what had gone on after Dennis had left. The thought shrivelled and died as hope was overtaken by experience.
Theyll be from Gloria Kendal, Shelley predicted.
I contradicted her. Itll be Donovan mortgaging his first months wages to apologize to you.
Wrong address, Gizmo said gloomily. Given the way the day had been running, he was probably right.
Is this Brannigan and Co? the flowers asked. For such an exotic arrangement, they had a remarkably prosaic Manchester accent.
Thats right, I said. Im Brannigan. I stepped forward expectantly.
Theyre not for you, love, the voice said, half a face appearing round the edge of the blooms. You got someone here called Gizmo?
Chapter 5
JUPITER IN CANCER IN THE 3RD HOUSE
Jupiter is exalted in Cancer. She has a philosophical outlook, enjoying speculative thinking. She is good humored and generous, with strong protective instincts. Her intuition and imagination are powerful tools that she could develop profitably. She has a good business sense and communicates well in that sphere. She probably writes very thorough reports.
From Written in the Stars, by Dorothea Dawson
It was hard to keep my mind on Glorias monologue on the way in to the studios the next morning. The conundrum of Gizmos mysterious bouquet was much more interesting than her analysis of the next months storylines for Northerners. When the delivery man had announced who the flowers were for, Shelley and I had rounded on Gizmo. Scarlet and stammering, hed refused to reveal anything. Shelley, whos always been quick on her feet, helped herself to the card attached to the bouquet and ripped open the envelope.
All it said was, www gets real. I know. I was looking over her shoulder. The delivery man had placed the flowers on Shelleys desk and legged it. Hed clearly seen enough blood shed over bouquets to hang around. So who have you been chatting up on the Internet? I demanded. Whos the cyberbabe?
Cyberbabe? Shelley echoed.
I pointed to the card. www. The worldwide web. The Internet. Its from someone hes met websurfing. Well, not actually met, as such. Exchanged e-mail with.
Safer than body fluids, Shelley commented drily. So whos the cyberbabe, Gizmo?
Gizmo shook his head. Its a joke, he said with the tentative air
I shook my head. I dont think so. Ive never met a techie yet whod spend money on flowers while there was still software on the planet.
Honest, Kate, its a wind-up, he said desperately.
Some expensive wind-up, Shelley commented. Did one of your mates win the lottery, then?
There is no babe, OK? Leave it, eh? he said, this time sounding genuinely upset.