Derbyshire, England 2012

It was Monday January 16, 2012, the day Dudley and Jen Hayes’ life was turned upside down. Dudley was fifty-eight and had worked for Lock’s and Johnson’s for most of his working life. As he waited for the barrier to rise allowing him to drive into the staff car park, he noticed that his boss’s car was already there in its reserved place, nearest to the entrance of the executive office block. Instinctively Dudley glanced at the clock on the dashboard but he wasn’t surprised to see that he still had twenty minutes to go before he had to be at his desk. His working days were all the same and his routine had become so ingrained in his mind that he went through it mechanically, doing the same things at the same time every day from Monday to Friday.

Malcom Lock’s car was a black BMW with black leather upholstery and dark glass in the windows. Dudley thought it looked like a hearse. Lock was feared by most of the employees at Lock’s and Johnson’s. Of the two, Lock was the partner who spent the most time at the office. It was him who chided and praised, him who shouted at the receptionists when he noticed the plants needed watering or the paper towels in the men’s toilets had run out, but it was also Lock who sent Christmas cards to the entire work-force. For some reason, Lock was the baddie and Johnson was the goody.

Dudley put his coffee on his desk and straightened up the photograph of Jen and their two daughters, Lindsey and Haley. He had taken it ten years ago on their last family holiday. It irritated him that the cleaners didn’t put things back properly once they’d finished dusting. As he reached across to switch on his computer, he noticed something else out of place on the desk. What’s this, he wondered, and picked up the small piece of folded paper that was leaning against his phone. His name was scrawled across it in black pen. Curiously he unfolded the note and read the brief message.

Dear Dudley,
Would you please come over to my office as soon as you get in?
M. Lock.

Thud, thud, thud. Dudley drummed his fingers on his desk, deep in thought. Why the hand written note? Why as soon as I get in? What can’t wait? He was nervous and highly suspicious, two-thousand-eleven hadn’t been a brilliant year but neither had it been a complete disaster. As he finished his coffee he turned things over in his mind, eliminating any nasty thoughts one by one, until he came to the conclusion that whatever Lock wanted to speak to him about, it could only be something good.

Feeling quite cheerful about the good news he’d convinced himself he was about to receive, he decided against taking the lift and went down the stairs to the ground floor. As he jogged down to the car park he hummed tunelessly. He crossed the car park to the executive block and went in through the automatic glass doors. The executive block was luxurious, the lift door had a brass control panel that was polished to look like gold. On the inside, the mirrors were crystal clear, not a finger print in sight. Again, Dudley decided to use the stairs up to the first floor. The marble staircase was polished every morning before the offices opened and Dudley was careful to keep to the plush red runner that ran up the centre of the stairs, like the red carpet at the Oscars. At the top of the stairs he turned left and stopped in front of the first door on the right. It was a heavy wooden door with M. LOCK engraved in thick letters on a brass plaque. Dudley could see his nose and top lip reflected in it. He took a deep breath and knocked sharply on Lock’s door.

“Enter!” Lock barked his usual cold command.

Dudley grasped the brass handle and pushed the door open. It was unusually heavy for an office door and an unpleasant thought popped into Dudley’s head. What if I can’t open it and get out? Ridiculous as it was, the thought unnerved Dudley and he made his entrance into Lock’s office looking like a frightened school boy. Lock was working on his computer when he heard the knock at his door but as soon as he saw Dudley, he stopped writing and stood up.

“Dudley!” he exclaimed, giving Dudley the smile he kept for when he wound up a good deal. He leaned across his desk and held out his hand to his employee.

“Thank you for coming, take a seat.”

Dudley felt flattered by the welcome he was receiving, but he noticed that Lock’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, perhaps he’d misjudged the situation. However, he did as he was told and sat down, clenching his fists in his lap.

“Coffee?” Lock offered.

“No thank you, I’ve just had one.”

“Well, let’s get down to business then.” Lock’s smile vanished and he cleared his throat. “How’s the family?”

“Very well, thank you,” Dudley answered automatically. This is business?

“Family!” Lock smiled sleazily. “Never enough time to spend with the wife and kids, eh, Dudley?”

What? Where’s this leading?

“Well, er, I suppose not.” He faltered, his mouth going dry.

“Pity! Such a pity! We only live once, you know!” Lock almost managed to look sincere as he spoke.

“Yes,” squeaked Dudley and a little nervous laugh escaped him.

“How long have you been with us? Let me see now.” Lock picked up a sheet of paper and scanned it. “Ah yes, you joined us in nineteen-eighty-two, thirty years ago. That’s admirable Dudley.” He studied Dudley over the top of the paper he was holding. Dudley squirmed in his chair.