I’m definitely not a fan of this gadget and think it makes the wearer look like a self-important dickhead, but I do find it essential when travelling in the car with passengers and delicate phone calls need to be made. Whilst it’s all very well using the in-car hands-free phone kit which utilizes the car’s stereo, it is quite possible the person I’m speaking to is going to talk about sensitive information, not for other ears.
“Dad, I’m thirsty. Can we stop at the shop and get a drink… and maybe something to eat?” Emily says just as I’m expecting, and as she usually does when we go out. I laugh.
“Not today, my love, we have to get to the office as soon as we can. The shop will be closed anyway today, I think.”
“Closed? Why will the shop be closed? It’s always open, every day?” Emily protests.
“Well, remember you have been given the day off school, and they have also given everybody the day off work too, so that means the shop will be closed. We haven’t got time to stop anyway.”
“Oh, Dad. I’m really thirsty,” Emily protests to me but I don’t give in, not today.
“Are you, Emily? We’ll get a drink when we get to the office. I’ve got to make a couple of phone calls now, so keep the noise down for a while okay?”
“Okay, Dad.”
The journey from our house adjacent to Golders Hill Park by Hampstead, and over to the Orion Security office at Paddington, would normally take twenty-five to thirty-five minutes depending on the traffic. Judging by the traffic or lack of it today, the journey time should be a lot quicker.
As we drive down our road, everything seems eerily quiet, no cars moving on the street and no pedestrians on the pavements. I see the odd person taking care of something or other around their house or standing at their front door looking nervously around. All turn to look at us in the car. They are probably wondering what we are doing, where we are going, and are we undercover police checking on them? How quickly the sight of a car driving down the road seems out of the ordinary and suspicious.
Suddenly, all at once, I see something out of the corner of my eye and slam on the brakes. The car comes to a violent stop; there is no sound of screeching tyres or smoke or a smell of burning rubber. The ABS makes sure of that.
Involuntary sounds of surprise and fear do come, though, from the back of the car, Emily murmurs, “Dad”. Adrenaline pumps through my body, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as my head whips round automatically, checking the girls are okay and not hurt. They are fine. My head turns again and looks out of the front windscreen, my right hand releasing the wheel simultaneously, reaching inside my jacket and curling around the Sig lying there.
In front of the car, not more than a couple of feet away, a man stands, staring at me. His eyes wide, he is frozen in fright. He is dressed in a light blue, short-sleeved shirt with a crown embroidered on the chest and dark blue trousers, both with red trim. A second or two passes. The postman and I stare at each other, then he blinks, turns his head to the right and then sprints off in that direction without looking back.
“Oh, my God, Andy; he ran right in front of you! You nearly ran him over,” Stacey says in a low voice.
“Dad, is he mad?” Emily adds.
“I’m sorry, girls, he came out of nowhere, but he's okay. It looks like he's late getting back to his home,” I tell them.
Emily exclaims, “Late? If he doesn’t look for cars, he will have an accident and not get home at all!”
“You’re absolutely right Emily; he needs to check before he crosses the road.” I start chuckling, as does Stacey.
My foot presses the accelerator and the car is moving forward again. We need to get to the office as quickly as possible. The events Stacey and I have just watched on the television at Marble Arch are far too close for comfort to the Orion office building in the Paddington Basin. The last thing I want is to get caught out in the open with those creatures and the girls in the car.
Sir Malcolm would tell you that the reason the new Orion office building is in the Paddington Basin, is because of the excellent transport links or because of the great deal the company got for the land. Or maybe because of the central location with a diverse community.
The company may have got a great deal on the land, but if you ask me, the overriding reason why the new building is located where it is, is because Sir Malcolm wanted to be close to his London residence, his opulent Villa on the Outer Circle of Regents Park. Also, and probably more importantly, to be close to his beloved hallowed Lords Cricket Ground, where he is an Honorary Life Member of the MCC, the Marylebone Cricket Club. I think it’s fair to say Sir Malcolm loves that club more than anything.
We turn left onto the main Finchley Road, where there are a couple of cars darting about and the odd pedestrian, all, I presume, rushing to get back to wherever they are going to hole themselves up through this. And, as we move into the shopping area of the street, there are even more people.
To my surprise, there are also some convenience stores with their doors still open and people going in and coming out of them, their arms full of shopping bags. They all look very flustered, some even panicked. These people are obviously getting last-minute supplies they need from the shop owners who
