‘I’m up for it if you sneak me another beer,’ James grinned.
As the game kicked off, James, Lauren, Joshua and Meatball followed Kyle towards the barbecue tent, Meatball getting excited at the smell of frying meat. James waited for burgers and hot dogs to cook while Kyle went to the drinks table to grab cans of Pepsi and bottles of beer.
By the time they’d queued and stood around the tent eating their barbecue the first match between the red shirts was over. The boys had won, but the mud-soaked girls were in uproar and claimed that a sexist male ref had given the boys an outrageous last-minute penalty.
Zara announced that the second match would be between kids who lived on the sixth floor of the main building and kids from the eighth. James shouted for the sixth floor as his neighbours piled on to the pitch, including his ex Kerry Chang, plus friends Bruce, Shakeel, Andy, Rat and Kevin.
‘Eighth floor, kick some arse!’ Lauren shouted, as Bethany and loads of her other friends ran on to the other half of the pitch.
The floors in the main building were all mixed up in terms of age and sex, so newly qualified ten-year-olds were on the pitch alongside burly sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds. In a serious match this might have led to injuries, but the mud-bowl matches were played in a spirit of fun and it wasn’t unusual to see kids sitting on each other or players hurling mud pies into the crowd.
With the red shirts all running off for the showers and two-thirds of the older kids forming giant teams on the pitch, the crowd was much thinner and mainly consisted of staff, kids who lived on the seventh floor and kids like James and Lauren who were carrying an injury.
James looked across at a lonely figure standing on the touchline near the other end of the pitch.
‘I spy with my little eye something beginning with J.’
‘Oh cool,’ Lauren grinned. ‘I’ve got to wind him up about getting bit on the arse.’
Kyle hadn’t caught up on all the campus news and burst out laughing. ‘What was that?’
Lauren explained Jake’s encounter with the RAF guard dog as they all headed towards him, except for Joshua, who eyed his mum feeding Tiffany a Malteser and raced across to grab his share.
‘How’s your butt?’ Lauren laughed, as she walked up behind Jake.
‘You useless bloody tit,’ James shouted towards the pitch, as Shakeel missed an open goal.
Jake turned to Lauren and shook his head. ‘Don’t start, OK? I’ve had it up to here with people taking the piss and I swear, if anyone else starts I’m gonna flip out.’
‘Bit tetchy are we?’ Lauren grinned.
Kyle tried to sound more sympathetic. ‘Is it still painful?’
‘Twelve stitches in my arse,’ Jake tutted. ‘What do you think?’
James burst out laughing. ‘You should get one of those rubber rings to sit on.’
‘Give us a peek,’ Lauren jeered, as she grabbed the back of Jake’s tracksuit bottoms and yanked them down.
‘Leave off,’ Jake said furiously. ‘You think it’s funny? Get some massive guard dog to tear a hole in your arse and we’ll see who’s laughing.’
Lauren tutted. ‘Don’t cry, Jakey-poos.’
Kyle shook his head disapprovingly. ‘Give the poor kid a break, Lauren.’
‘It’s always the same,’ Lauren sighed, as she backed off. ‘The ones who are first to dish out stick can’t take it when it’s their turn.’
Jake turned to Lauren and smiled. ‘I tell you what,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you tell your brother about his love life going down the shitter?’
Lauren’s heart bolted, but she tried acting like she didn’t know what Jake was talking about. ‘You what?’ she said contemptuously.
Jake pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘Take a look, James. Your sister made Kevin delete the original, but luckily I kept a copy.’
‘Jake, you’re such an arsehole,’ Lauren steamed, as her brother zoomed in to look at the screen of Jake’s phone.
The picture was small and looked bleary in the darkness, but James only took a couple of seconds to recognise the motorbike poster over his bed and the fact that Dana had Michael Hendry on top of her.
‘When was this taken?’ James demanded furiously.
‘Yesterday,’ Jake smiled. ‘Ask your sister, she knows more about this than I do.’
James glowered at Lauren. ‘ You knew about this?’
Lauren put out her hands defensively. ‘James, you were on a mission. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas.’
‘You knew I was doing my head in trying to work out why Dana’s been acting so weird,’ James spluttered. ‘You’re my sister, Lauren. How can you let this go on under my nose?’
‘Lauren’s a bitch,’ Jake noted, but he jolted when James turned angrily towards him.
‘One more cute word out of your mouth, Jake, and I’ll punch you into new year.’
Kyle was struggling to keep up with events, but he placed a reassuring hand on James’ shoulder. ‘Come on mate, calm down.’
‘Did you know?’ James said accusingly.
Kyle smiled. ‘James, I haven’t been on campus since July! Take a deep breath and count to ten.’
‘You want me to be calm,’ James shouted. ‘Half of campus seems to know that Dana’s getting boffed by Michael Hendry and my own sister’s been lying through her teeth …’
‘I wasn’t lying,’ Lauren said. ‘I knew you’d find out and I was going to tell you, but I was hoping Dana would beat me to it and I deleted the photo because I didn’t want you to find out like this.’
James was angry, but he believed Lauren had meant to protect his feelings. It was Dana he was really mad at.
‘Where is she, the cheating skank?’
‘I haven’t seen her,’ Lauren said. ‘You know she doesn’t like joining in. She’s probably in her room reading a book.’
James turned towards the pitch and saw Michael Hendry playing on the wing for the eighth floor.
‘Gimme that phone,’ he shouted, as he snatched the handset from Jake.
‘James, calm down,’ Kyle said firmly. He grabbed James’ arm, but James snatched it free.
‘If anyone else tells me to calm down …’ James growled.
Jake smirked as James charged on to the muddy pitch. Lauren was hobbling, but she was furious and grabbed Jake by the hood of his jacket.
‘You stirring piece of shit,’ she shouted.
‘Kiss my arse,’ Jake said, as he tried to wriggle free, but Lauren slapped him hard across the cheek.
Jake stumbled and fell to the ground.
‘My stitches,’ he groaned as he writhed in the mud, clutching his bum.
Lauren loomed over him with her hands on her hips. ‘You’re such a baby,’ she sneered. ‘I barely tapped you.’
BIG
James never intended to walk into the mud bowl and got handicapped by rapidly flooding trainers and a pain shooting up his bruised back whenever one of his legs skidded in the mud. A bunch of younger kids were chasing the ball around near the goal at the top of the slope, but Michael Hendry hung back in a gloomy area near the middle of the pitch, his tracksuit bottoms plastered in thick mud and banging his gloved hands together to keep warm.
James held out Jake’s phone as he approached Michael from behind. He was furious, but his appetite for violence waned as he got close: Michael was taller, with massive arms, a massive chest, and James’ combat training counted for nothing because Michael had been through exactly the same. The one thing James did have was the element of surprise.
‘Yo, shit-face,’ James shouted.
Michael knew he’d been rumbled as he turned to face James, but before he could act Jake’s phone smashed against the side of his temple. The plastic facia cracked with the force of the blow and James followed up with two hard slugs to the stomach. The punches would have floored most men, but Michael absorbed the blows, grabbed James by the scruff of his hoodie and stomped his ankle with the metal spikes of a size-twelve rugby boot.
‘You wanna mess with me?’ Michael boomed.
James howled as he collapsed into the thick mud, but despite the pain in his back and ankle he grabbed Michael’s ankle, swept it through the mud and raised it into the air as he sprang to his feet. Michael tried kicking free as James held his leg in the air and began painfully twisting his foot.
By this time all the players had seen what was going on. Several were running over to break up the fight and the referee was frantically blowing his whistle.
‘You backstabber,’ James yelled, as he wrenched Michael’s foot around.
The pain made Michael’s upright leg buckle and he collapsed forwards into the mud, taking James with him. Michael got on top and hit James with an explosive punch in the back of the head. Freezing water soaked through James’ clothes. As he thrashed about trying to break free, Michael landed another brutal punch.
Surprise had been James’ only advantage over a stronger opponent and he would have got the crap beaten out of him but for Bruce Norris wading in to save him. Bruce stunned Michael with a studded kick in the back, before wrapping his arm around Michael’s massive neck and dragging him backwards.
Bruce was extremely strong for his size, but he still needed Shakeel and Rat’s help to drag Michael away. James was stunned from the two head punches, but he was still conscious and Michael’s girlfriend Gabrielle hauled James out of the mud, while ex-girlfriend Kerry restrained him by pulling his arm up tight behind his back.
‘For Christ’s sake, James,’ Kerry said, as James groaned with pain. ‘It’s a game. You said you weren’t even playing because of your back.’
James and Michael were both trying to break free when the referee arrived and rather pointlessly waved his red card at both of them.
‘You think I care about this stupid match,’ James growled, as he looked back over his shoulder and eyeballed Gabrielle.
‘Look at Jake’s phone,’ he gasped. ‘See what your precious boyfriend’s been getting up to with Dana.’
Gabrielle’s eyes lit up and the certainty in her expression made James realise that she already suspected that something untoward had been going on.
‘Gab, don’t!’ Kerry said anxiously, as she tightened her arm lock on James.
‘You said you were working on an art history project!’ Gabrielle screamed, as she let go of James and stormed towards Michael. ‘Is that why you spent all that time in Dana’s room? You dirty, cheating son of a...’
Gabrielle was tall and thin and would have been no match for Michael in an open fight. But Michael was still being held by Bruce and Shakeel. The referee tried to block, but Gabrielle dodged around him and smashed the base of her palm against Michael’s nose.
‘I’ll kill you,’ Gabrielle screamed bitterly, as Michael’s nose exploded with blood.
As the referee grabbed Gabrielle to prevent a second attack, her entire body wilted.
‘I thought you loved me, Michael,’ Gabrielle sobbed as she collapsed into the arms of the bewildered referee.
Kerry wanted to be with her best friend, but she was still restraining James. ‘Behave yourself, or else,’ she snarled before letting him go.
James was still hurting, but Gabrielle’s desperate crying pricked his anger. He’d had a few girlfriends and there were times when he thought he’d loved Dana, but nobody expected their relationship to last for ever and most people were surprised they’d lasted as long as they had.
Michael and Gabrielle’s relationship had been way more intense. He was Gabrielle’s first love and they’d done everything together for so long that people rarely mentioned one without the other.
James was pissed at Dana for cheating on him. His head hurt, his back ached and his sock oozed blood where Michael’s studs had ripped his skin, but he’d just witnessed Gabrielle’s heart break and that put his own hurt into stark perspective.
‘You OK?’ Kyle said, squelching up behind James as Gabrielle sobbed helplessly in Kerry’s arms.
‘Head’s killing me, ankle might need stitches,’ James said sourly. ‘Sorry.’
Kyle smiled. ‘What are you sorry for?’
‘This,’ James shrugged. ‘First time back on campus in five months and you’ve got all my crap to put up with.’
‘I missed your crap,’ Kyle said wryly. ‘Your idiocy is a constant reminder of how smart and rational I am.’
James had missed Kyle’s sense of humour and couldn’t help laughing, even though he was in all kinds of pain.
‘Put your arm round my back,’ Kyle said. ‘I’ll get one of the golf buggies and drive you over to the medical unit.’
*
Two hours later Lauren walked along the sixth-floor corridor and knocked on James’ door.
‘You OK?’ she asked, as she peered around the door and saw James lying on his bed in a dressing gown. He had a bandage on one ankle and a square plaster stuck on his almost bald head, which covered a nasty cut from one of Michael’s rings.
The room was dark, except for a chink of light coming through the bathroom door. Lauren sat on the corner of the bed.
‘Been better, been worse,’ James said, as he threw down a motorbike magazine he hadn’t been reading anyway and sat up so that he could see his sister.
‘You said yourself you thought something was going wrong,’ Lauren said soothingly. ‘It hadn’t been right for a while.’
‘I actually feel quite mellow about breaking up,’ James said. ‘What pissed me off was everyone knowing about it behind my back. Including you …’
‘I would have told you if it dragged on,’ Lauren said. ‘I haven’t got any loyalty to cheesy bloody Dana.’
‘Nice boobs though,’ James sighed. ‘And she was the first girl I slept with, so I guess she’s one I’ll always remember.’
Lauren smirked. ‘Didn’t you sleep with that other girl on your anti-gang mission?’
James laughed. ‘OK, I’ll rephrase it: Dana was the first girl I had sex with apart from two minutes of complete terror in a bathtub with a girl I never spoke to again.’
Lauren giggled. ‘Only you, James …’
‘It’s Gabrielle I feel sorry for,’ James said. ‘She was still crying her eyes out in Kerry’s room when I got back.’
‘What did Zara say?’
‘She came over to the medical unit, made me and Michael shake hands like a couple of five-year-olds – good news is that Gab totally mashed his nose. She’s letting all three of us off as long as there’s no more bad blood between us, but I’ve got to pay for Jake’s busted phone.’
‘How much?’
‘A hundred and fifty,’ James moaned. ‘That’s all my Christmas money, plus a fiver a week out of my pocket money until the end of March.’
‘Bummer,’ Lauren said, changing the subject in an attempt to cheer him up. ‘The last mud-bowl match was so funny: training instructors versus black shirts. Bruce scored a hat-trick, so Mr Pike and Miss Smoke grabbed hold of him and threw him in the lake at the end.’
‘Sounds fun.’
‘And the chefs served hot punch and mince pies in the tent so everyone could warm up afterwards. It had a bit of rum in it, so we were only allowed one each. You know what I was thinking?’
‘What?’ James asked warily.
‘There’s this big training exercise in America coming up. Seeing as your mission ended early, you might be able to sign up.’
‘Why would I volunteer for extra training?’
Lauren shook her head. ‘It’s in this place called Fort Reagan in America. It’s not exercise and stuff. It’s gonna be this massive war game up against American troops doing urban warfare training. We pretend to be insurgents, Mac’s gonna be the supreme leader of the bad guys and we get a mini-holiday in Las Vegas before it starts.’
‘Sounds pretty good, I guess,’ James said. ‘So you’re sure there’s no rock-breaking or hiking with heavy packs?’
Lauren shook her head firmly. ‘It’s not CHERUB training. It’s run by the US Army and British Special Forces. They want CHERUB in the mix to give their forces a different challenge.’
‘I could look into it, I guess,’ James nodded.
‘You could do with a break after the last few months,’ Lauren smiled. ‘And there’s a lot of kids clamouring for places, but with your record on missions I’m sure you’d make the cut.’
‘I heard Bruce talking about going,’ James said. ‘Maybe I’ll speak to Mac next time he’s on campus.’
‘Cool,’ Lauren said, as there was another knock at the door.
‘So, you showed your face,’ James said acidly, as Dana appeared in the doorway holding a large cardboard box.
Dana flipped James’ light on without asking and put the box down on the little sofa by the door.
‘For what it’s worth, James, I wanted to be straight with you,’ Dana said. ‘But Michael wanted to let Gabrielle down gradually. Then she started getting suspicious and she backed him into a corner and made him deny everything.’
Lauren snorted. ‘Sounds more like Michael wanted to have his oats and eat them.’
Dana snorted back. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, Lauren, your brother’s not exactly up for any fidelity awards.’
‘I only cheated on you once and I confessed straight away,’ James said, slightly bitter as he hopped off the bed and limped around to inspect the contents of the box. It was a mix of his CDs, bits of clothing, school books and other junk that had gravitated to Dana’s room over their thirteen-month relationship.
Dana’s voice firmed up. ‘Let’s not pretend we had something we didn’t. I’m a weirdo who you only went out with because I’ve got big tits. You’re a good looking guy who knows it and can’t say no to anything in a skirt.’
James was bitter about what had happened and part of him wanted to end things with a screaming row where they threw stuff at each other; but his ankle and back hurt, plus he didn’t have the energy.
‘Take whatever,’ he said, pointing casually towards the bathroom. ‘Most of your stuff’s in there.’
Lauren could see James was stressed and while Dana picked up her junk in the bathroom – plus a few bits of clothing and the copy of Lord of the Rings James had never got around to finishing – she stood beside James with a hand resting loyally on his towelling-covered shoulder.
‘Have a nice life,’ James said half sarcastically, as Dana lifted her hand and headed out, holding the box which was now filled with her own stuff.
‘You too,’ Dana said, closing the door behind her.
‘It’s just a shame it all had to happen right before Christmas,’ Lauren said.
‘My arse it is,’ James smiled. ‘First thing tomorrow I’m off to the shops and I’m getting a thirty-six ninety-nine refund on her Christmas present.’
PRESENTS
It was Christmas day, 6.58 in the morning and Meryl Spencer stood outside the assembly hall in the main building being crushed to death by hysterical red shirts.
‘Everybody stand back,’ Meryl roared. ‘If there’s any more pushing and shoving you can all go back to bed until eight o’clock.’
Several kids groaned, but you could see that all the red shirts knew it was an idle threat. Most of them had got up in a hurry and had made the frosty journey from their rooms in the junior block dressed in odd combinations of carpet slippers and pyjamas, covered with outdoor jackets and the occasional woolly hat.
Despite not taking the time to get dressed, most red shirts had been up for an hour or more and one pair were even caught trying to break through the fire doors outside the assembly hall at 4 a.m.
‘They make me feel old,’ Kyle smiled. ‘Ten years ago I would have been down there waiting for my prezzies too. Every minute seemed to last an hour.’
James stood next to him, along with a bunch of other teens who probably could have settled for a couple of hours’ lie-in and opening their presents over a late breakfast; but they’d all got out of bed to see the little kids going crazy. Kids of ten and eleven like Kevin Sumner and Jake Parker were in between: young enough to be excited, but trying to act cool and not let it show.
‘BAAAACK!’ Meryl screamed, as one of the junior-block carers grabbed a near hysterical boy out of the crowd.
‘Don’t you dare hit her,’ the carer said, as she grabbed the boy’s wrist. ‘Now you can hold my hand and I’ll let you in last.’
A cheer erupted as Chairwoman Zara Asker and a bunch of other staff arrived. A plastic clock on the wall above Meryl’s head ticked over to 6.59 and everyone started counting the seconds.
‘Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven …’
‘AAAAARGGGGHHH!’ a red-shirt girl called Coral shouted. ‘I can’t stand it. I’m so excited!’
Kevin’s seven-year-old sister Megan grabbed his arm and used him as a battering ram to get to the front of the crowd.
‘For god’s sake, Megs,’ Kevin moaned, feeling horribly self-conscious as he was surrounded by smaller kids. ‘Does a few seconds really make that much difference?’
‘Sixteen, fifteen, fourteen …’
On ten, Meryl turned around and placed a key in the large double doorway. She turned it on three and pushed the doors open on the stroke of zero. Meryl had won an Olympic sprint medal, but couldn’t ever recall moving as fast as the seventy red shirts storming the assembly hall.
The red shirts’ gift piles were arranged in rows in the centre of the wooden floor and organised alphabetically by surname. While six- to nine-year-olds ploughed into their gifts, ignoring stockings and little parcels and going for the biggest presents at the bottom of the pile, some of the youngest red shirts who hadn’t quite mastered the alphabet were helped out by a couple of bleary-eyed carers who’d been up since four, setting out all the piles of presents.
By the time James and co. got into the hall the centre of the room looked like a piranha feeding frenzy, with red shirts taking the place of the fish and chunks of flesh replaced by flying tufts of wrapping paper.
Amidst the rustling and the odd jingle from an electronic toy came shouts of Oh wow I got the light sabre/racing car/Barbie or whatever and the distressed howls of one small lad who’d been accidentally kicked in the face by the eight-year-old girl attacking the pile of gifts next to him.
James and the other qualified agents had stacks arranged on tables running along the edge of the room. Their presents were smaller than the little kids’ toys, but every kid on campus got exactly the same amount spent on them. The only differences were in the number of presents received from friends.
As an A for Adams, James had the second pile of gifts, with Lauren’s haul next to him.
‘Looks like we’ve all got new laptops for our rooms,’ Lauren smiled, as James opened a tall cylindrical present from Meryl that looked uncannily like a bottle of booze, but turned out to be a fancy chrome toilet brush and packet of disinfectant cubes.
‘Haaaah!’ Lauren laughed. ‘It looks like she saw the state of your old toilet bowl!’
‘That wasn’t filth,’ James grinned. ‘That was my skid-mark hall of fame.’
Most red shirts had now opened their main presents and had started popping the indoor fireworks in their stockings while cramming down squares of Dairy Milk. James pulled a stripy package of Paul Smith aftershave off the top of his stocking before burrowing down and pulling out an indoor firework shaped like a champagne bottle.
Lauren was opening a pair of animal-friendly New Balance running shoes as James popped it next to her ear.
‘Git,’ Lauren yelled, digging James in the ribs as yellow streamers floated down on to her head. ‘You damn nigh blew up my eardrum.’
‘Happy Christmas,’ James said, as he pulled his sister into a hug. ‘Who needs a girlfriend when I’ve got a sister like you?’
‘If you say so,’ Lauren giggled. ‘But if you start getting frisky there’s gonna be trouble.’
‘James, my man!’ Bruce shouted, as he punched the air wearing a huge chrome knuckleduster with an obscenely vicious array of spikes, barbs and blades. ‘Best present ever, mate. You could kill people in so many different ways with this!’
‘I thought of you as soon as I saw the dodgy eBay auction,’ James smiled, as he pulled more little gifts out of his felt stocking, including fancy silk boxers and a bag of gourmet jellybeans.
Unlike the little kids who were in it for the goodies, present opening was more of a social occasion for older kids like James. He was content to savour his presents and wandered over to see how Kerry was going.
‘Happy Christmas,’ James said.
‘You too,’ Kerry replied, before giving him a hug.
She hadn’t showered because it was early. The back of her neck smelled like fresh Kerry sweat and the tang made him insanely jealous of Bruce.
‘Poor Kyle,’ Kerry said, as he wandered by. ‘All grown up and no official presents!’
James had started a trend by hugging Lauren and Kerry and everyone else was soon doing it. He even hugged people like Bethany who he didn’t like.
James still hadn’t opened all of his loot, but he spotted Mac helping some of the younger red shirts load their haul of presents into giant bin liners so that they could carry them back to their rooms and play.
‘Mac,’ James smiled. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you the last couple of days.’
‘Really,’ Mac smiled back, crouching down and scooping pieces from a six-year-old’s K’nex set back into their box. ‘Fahim and I have been staying with my son down in London. I came back to campus to catch up with some paperwork last night and I thought I’d stay overnight and see the chaos.’
‘How’s Fahim doing?’ James asked.
‘Good,’ Mac nodded. ‘He’s the same age as my youngest grandkids and they really seem to hit it off.’
‘And you?’
‘Been married a loooooong time,’ he said sadly. ‘It’s never going to be the same without her, but it’s harder on my son. He lost a mother, a wife and two children.’
Mac’s eyes were glazing over, but the little red-shirt boy stared impatiently with hands on hips. ‘My K’nex!’ he demanded.
‘Sorry, mate!’ Mac smiled, as he began scooping up the last of the pieces. ‘Are you sure you’ll be able to carry that whole bag back to your room in one go?’
‘For sure,’ the boy nodded. ‘I’ll put it on one of the electric buggies.’
‘So,’ James said, as the red shirt dragged his presents towards the back of the hall. ‘I wanted to ask if there were any spots left on this training exercise in America.’
‘Oh that,’ Mac said. ‘It does look like fun, but why are you asking me?’
‘Lauren said you were in charge.’
‘I dealt with some of the sign-ups,’ Mac nodded. ‘But only because I know most of the agents better than Mr Kazakov. He was the one who got the invitation to do red teaming.’
‘Red what?’ James asked.
Mac tutted. ‘Lauren’s supposed to be going on this exercise but she either hasn’t read her briefing yet, or hasn’t bothered telling you. The Americans run war games at various centres around the world. Fort Reagan is the newest. It’s specifically designed to train soldiers in dealing with modern, open-ended urban combat situations like the wars in Iraq or Somalia.
‘Kazakov has donkey’s years’ experience fighting with the Russians in Afghanistan, then with training NATO special forces and advising on tactical operations in the Balkans and Baghdad. The Yanks invited him to lead the team in one of their most sophisticated war games ever and they still use cold war language. So the bad guys are always known as the reds, and running the red team is called …’
‘Red teaming,’ James nodded. ‘I get it. So I need to speak to Kazakov?’
‘Yes,’ Mac said. ‘I think you’re in luck, because he was looking for more experienced agents like you, but Zara was reluctant to release too many in case they were needed for missions.’
James looked around the room. ‘I haven’t seen Kazakov this morning.’
Mac burst out laughing. ‘The man has a heart of granite! Could you see our Mr Kazakov getting up early to go all gooey-eyed over the red shirts opening their presents?’
‘I suppose not,’ James smiled.
‘He got back when basic training ended last week,’ Mac said. ‘If you’re interested in the exercise, I’d suggest you pay him a visit upstairs in the staff quarters ASAP.’
KAZAKOV
James had been at CHERUB for over four years, but it was only the second time he’d ventured into the staff quarters on the fifth floor of the main building. The corridor needed a lick of paint and the carpet was tired, but the mostly young and single staff who lived here had got competitive with their Christmas decorations. The space outside each room was festooned with tinsel, flashing lights, ceiling decorations and tacky plastic snowmen.
The exception was room eighteen at the far end of the hallway, where the walls were bare and music from Swan Lake boomed through the closed doorway.
‘Mr Kazakov,’ James shouted, as he banged on the door. ‘Are you in there?’
James realised Mr Kazakov had to be in his room, unless he was in the habit of going out while leaving his CDs playing at full blast. He tried the door handle and peered into an airy space, with white walls, balcony doors and a trendy wooden floor.