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Copyright © 2025 Arcbeatle Press Edited by James Hornby and James Wylder All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Concepts Used with Permission: SIGNET and associated concepts © James Hornby Chris Cwej © Andy Lane Doctor X © Iain McLaughlin Professor X © Paul Cornell Huwyma © Lance Parkin DymahCorp © Callum Phillpott Gevity © Xavier Llewellyn Blue Candle Coffee Company, Flickers, Kelphans, Jhe Sang Mi, & Diashna © James Wylder Jae-Sun created by David A. McIntee WARSONG, the WARS TCG, and associated concepts © Decipher, Inc. Academy 27 © Arcbeatle Press
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“Excuse me, can you show me where the beans are?” Jackie Taylor placed the box she was carrying back onto her stocking trolley and turned around to beam at the customer. “Of course, sir. It's just this way.” Jackie led the man down the maze of aisles, past pizzas, booze, and breakfast cereal, glowing like a beacon in her Freshfields bright yellow polo shirt. Reaching the aisle in question, she directed the customer towards a row of shelves packed to the rafters with baked beans, holding out a hand as if presenting the world cup. “Here you are, sir,” she said with another radiant smile. “Is there anything else I can help with?” The question rolled off the tongue fluidly. “No, that's okay,” said the customer, dropping a multi-pack into his trolley and setting off without so much as a thank you or goodbye. “Have a nice day!” Jackie sighed with relief. The last thing she needed to be doing was ferrying the customer around on a personal shopping spree. With haste in her step, she headed back towards her stocking trolley when, around half way there, her stocking scanner buzzed in her hand. Pork ribs require immediate restock. Jackie held back several curse words and exhaled sharply. “I only restocked them an hour ago,” she muttered to herself. “Who on earth has bought twenty pork ribs?” Gritting her teeth, she set off, in quick step, towards the warehouse, careful to avoid any customers who anxiously attempted to make eye contact. She couldn't risk another interruption now. Reaching the warehouse, the jaunty tunes of the shop floor subsided. Beyond the customer experience was a dull, monotonous place, devoid of the bright lights that dazzled from above, and the bustle of people going about their weekly shop. Instead, shop colleagues worked in silence, hefting boxes of all sizes onto stocking trolleys, all instructed by the guiding hand of their scanners. Pork ribs require immediate restock. “Alright!” Jackie bellowed at the device in her hand. “I'm doing it!” Paul Stevens looked up from his trolley, but his eyes quickly turned back to his work, his brow strained from holding back his curiosity. Jackie felt a stab of guilt — it was wrong of her to have interrupted him. Power walking at a rate of knots, Jackie dipped under airplane ladders, slipped past top-stockers and cardboard bins, until she reached the fresh meat fridge. With a grunt, she slid open the lever that unlocked the sliding door, and was met with a blast of arctic air. A row of dangling plastic flaps barred her way — the company's attempt to keep the cold air in and further cut down on costs. That's all they do these days, thought Jackie. Entering the walk-in icebox, Jackie marched over to the stacked trays that contained the pork ribs. Lifting one of the packages out, she scanned the barcode on the back with her device. Pork ribs do not require restock. Jackie's stomach somersaulted. “What? What do you mean?” She checked her scanner: 126 units in stock. They hadn't sold any since she last stocked them… Panic started to overwhelm her. The detour with the customer, then to here, had taken almost five minutes! Her SPIMS score would plummet if she didn't get back to her trolley soon. Jackie turned back to the door and ran for the exit. The door to the fridge slid shut. Jackie's heart raced like a greyhound. Her hands dived for the internal lever, pulling frantically to get out. The lever didn't budge. Jackie started to hyperventilate. She hated confined spaces at the best of times. Banging at the door, she screamed for a colleague passing by to let her out, but knew all too well no one would hear her. The door was designed to be thick to keep in the cold — all to keep costs down. Jackie slammed her fist against the door as hard as she could, yelling until her throat became hoarse. Little did she know she would never be seen again. Next Aisle: Chapter 1The large, neon sign of Freshfields greeted Ellie Jackson as she walked through the store’s busy car park towards the staff entrance. It was nearing eight in the morning, and already shoppers were massing in their hundreds to complete their weekly shop. Swiping her pass over the panel next to the door, a loud buzz announced her permission to enter. She stepped inside, quickly sweeping her long brown hair into a ponytail and tied it up with a bobble, before climbing the corrugated stairs to the staff canteen. Her shift started in five minutes, and her dazzlingly bright uniform was still in her bag — she needed to get a shuffle on. Bounding up the metal stairway two apiece, she stopped at the top as the door swung open and a man in a freshly-ironed suit and tie stepped out in front of her. “Morning, Ellie,” said Gary Wheeler, the store manager. “When you clock in can you pop into the briefing room? I need you to train up one of our new starters.” “Sure,” Ellie said with a smile. She couldn't believe her luck: Newbie Day. She always looked forward to a staff induction. It gave her the chance to meet new people, not to mention feel valued by management for being trusted with the task. Hurrying through the break room, she waved at her friends and colleagues who were gobbling down breakfast and slurping up coffee. Her ultimate destination was the toilets, where she used a cubicle to get changed. Walking back through the break room, she positively shined in her Freshfields uniform: yellow polo shirt and black trousers, primed and ready for another day's work. Downstairs, Ellie passed the management office, deftly ducking to make sure Carol Baker, her section manager, didn't spot her and make a generally negative comment about the recycling cages she'd had to leave for the night shift yesterday. Having safely avoided the dragon, she scooted along to the briefing room, where a table of newbies, already suited and booted in their uniforms, were waiting. After a brief knock, she entered, and all faces in the room fell upon her. Ellie spied quite the diverse bunch this time, ready to join the Freshfields family: an elderly gentleman, who must be skirting dangerously close to retirement; a purple-haired girl with a vacant expression; a dark-haired girl with a dangerous expression; a Korean man with a cute face and — as Ellie briefly imagined — rock hard abs; and a bored-looking woman, wearing a smart blouse that marked her out as management. “Hey, Ellie,” said Sarah Sombat, the personnel manager. “Meet our new starters.” “Morning,” she said, showing them her widest smile. Each of them gave Ellie a polite wave or smile in return. “Ellie, if you could set Charles up in the grocery section and show him the ropes it would be most appreciated.” Sarah gestured for Charles to leave his seat and accompany Ellie. The old man did so with surprising spriteliness, joining Ellie at the door. “It’s nice to meet you all,” Ellie said to the group before leaving the room. She offered a polite smile to Charles and gestured with a hand in the direction of the shop floor. “Nice to meet you,” he responded, misinterpreting the gesture and shaking her outstretched hand. Ellie stifled a giggle and returned the hand shake so as not to embarrass him. “And you. The shop floor is this way,” she said. “We’ll get you started by showing you the layout of the warehouse, then get you on your way with a stocking trolley.” “Sounds terrific,” said Charles. The warehouse was a vast space that encompassed the entirety of the store’s rear. Rows of parallel shelving racks ran its length, packed to the rafters with everything from tinned soup to toilet rolls. Ellie guided Charles to an empty steel stocking trolley beside a rack of cereal boxes. “We’ll start by loading our stock onto here,” said Ellie, moving the trolley closer to Charles. He looked down at the trolley and then to the shelves. “So we just grab some boxes and see what will fit on the shelf?” he asked. Ellie felt a stab of panic, and held out a hand to stop him. “Oh no, you can’t just grab random old boxes. We have to use SPIMS first.” “SPIMS?” Charles questioned, with the perplexity of a pensioner being told to book gig tickets online. “Store Performance Improvement Management System — we use it for pretty much everything we do here these days.” “Even to take a break?” Charles joked. “Yes, actually,” Ellie answered awkwardly. “We have to log when we leave the shop floor and when we come back down — it stops people from taking liberties.” “Oh,” said Charles as his brow furrowed. “Well, that does make some sort of sense, I suppose.” “As our roles are mostly focused on replenishing shelves, we use a stocking scanner.” She reached over to the nearest shelf for two mobile phone-like devices and passed one to Charles. “We all get given our own unique logins. For new starters it’ll be your first initial and your last name — all one word — for both username and password. You’ll then get prompted to change your password to something unique — the last thing you need is someone logging in and messing up your score.” “Oh?” said Charles. “Why is that?” Ellie was momentarily taken aback by the question. “Erm, because our scores reflect our performance: a low score means we risk losing our jobs. We don’t want that, do we?” “I suppose not,” Charles said with a shrug, and began stabbing at the screen with his forefinger. After a painfully long wait for him to input his details and change his password he announced, “There, all done.” “Wonderful,” said Ellie with a smile. “Right, so all you need to do now is press the button that says ‘Replenish’, and then find the icon for ‘Cereals’.” Charles navigated his way through the scanner’s menus and beamed. “Done it.” “Okay then,” said Ellie. “Now just press the little button on the side and scan each box. SPIMS will tell you which boxes we need to take with us.” “How clever,” said Charles, making it sound on par with the invention of the wheel. He subsequently set about loading the trolley. “You’re a natural,” said Ellie. “You’re a convincing liar,” joked Charles as he continued to scan the boxes and load them onto the trolley. “So how long have you worked here, Ellie?” “Since I was eighteen,” she replied. “Right after college. My friends all went to university, but I didn’t really see the point. They’re all in debt now and I own a two-bed in Fulford — they’re always telling me how they wish they had done the same.” “Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” said Charles, with the air and wisdom of a man who had looked back on many times. “So you’ve been here long enough to know about the disappearances?” Ellie’s eyes fell sullen. “It’s all everyone is talking about. I just can’t make sense of it. I knew Jackie — y’know, the woman who went missing last week. I can’t say we’re good friends or anything, but I know her well enough to say that it’s not like her to go running off or anything.” “So she can’t be staying with family anywhere?” Ellie shook her head. “She didn’t have any family; told me her parents died when she was eight. She was brought up in the system.” Ellie noticed a hurt look in Charles’ eyes upon mentioning orphanhood, and decided to change the subject. “Still, I’m not one to follow the rumour train. I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation to it all.” Charles offered a polite smile, but ultimately seemed disappointed that the topic had ended. “Well,” he said, “it looks like all the boxes are scanned. Where to now?” “Aisle Fifteen,” said Ellie, feeling a geek for knowing what could be found on every aisle. She often reminded herself that after ten years such knowledge could only be second nature, but voicing it still made her feel somehow obsessive. “I’ll lead the way,” said Charles, clearly eager to please on his first day. Ellie thought back to her first shift, how Carol Baker had made it her personal mission to crush the eighteen-year-old Ellie into the dirt and show her who was boss. She’d come home crying to her parents, like she had all those years before when Ben Elliot had picked on her at school. Still, she was proud of herself for not giving up, and although Carol Baker was still an insufferable cow, she resolved never to let one bully make anyone else’s life here a total misery. Today she would make sure Charles had a much better induction than hers had been. Next Aisle: Chapter 2After lunch, Ellie made her way downstairs from the staff canteen to check up on Charles. Store policy meant that staff working in the same area had to take breaks at different times so that there was always someone manning the shop floor. It was frustrating, but Ellie could see the reasoning, even if it meant she had left Charles on his own for a while. She hoped he had been okay, and that there had been no difficult customers, or even worse, difficult colleagues. Speaking of which, Ellie had only just entered the warehouse when she found herself face to face with her manager, Carol Baker. Ellie froze, frantically looking for an exit, but Carol had her gripped with rodentine eyes. “Ellie Jackson, I’m glad I caught you,” she said with her false smile. Ellie knew there were fangs beneath, poised and ready to bite. “The night manager told me that you’d left them a bunch of recycling cages to sort out when you left last night. If you can’t be bothered tidying up after yourself, then may I suggest you find another—” “There was a huge delivery that came last night,” Ellie interjected, “and I—” “Don’t give me excuses,” Carol snapped. “I’ll be checking your SPIMS score later, and if there is any notion of you slacking off, there will be a note in your file by the end of the day, do you hear me?” Loud and clear, thought Ellie, but, as usual, I’d be wasting my time telling her that. “Yep.” To her annoyance, Carol didn’t seem to be finished. “Can I not have a day off without having to deal with other people’s messes the next day?” She huffed, and was about to say even more, when she clocked Gary Wheeler, approaching from the outer warehouse. Carol flashed him another fake smile, one reserved for sucking up with all the power of a Dyson vacuum. “Ellie,” Gary called, arm raised in the air to catch her attention. “Great work last night. We were facing an impossible tide with all that stock we had delivered — I’m shocked by how much you got done. With hard work like that, we won’t have to worry about the Christmas figures at all!” He was about to move on, when he added, “You’re always such a positive force around here. It’s good for not just the customers, but our staff as well.” He patted her on the arm. “You’ve got a good one here, Carol — if only we could clone her!” Gary continued on his way, leaving Ellie with a smug smile, and Carol as sour as a lemon. Ellie felt like making a snappy parting comment, but knew better — a wounded viper was not to be toyed with. Instead, Ellie simply smiled and walked away. Her stocking scanner was waiting, and there was work to do. Returning to her device, she quickly signed back in and informed it that her break had ended. As if on cue, Charles came trotting back in moments after, an empty stocking trolley trailing behind him. “There’s another one done,” he said triumphantly. “I think I’m getting the hang of this!” “That’s brilliant,” she beamed. “You really are a natural.” “I’ve been around,” Charles said, coyly. From his wise eyes alone, Ellie believed him. “Hey, Ellie,” called a voice from the other end of the warehouse. She turned to see Habib, wearing a white apron and hat — a prerequisite uniform when working in the bakery. “What are you doughing here?” he said. Ellie inwardly groaned. Whilst Habib was a pleasant person to be around, his incessant pun-making was a chore to say the least. Next to her, Charles was creased over with laughter. “Doughing,” he chuckled. “And you work in the bakery.” He snorted, sucking in deep breaths to regain his composure. “Oh, excuse me. I do like a good joke.” Ellie was dying of awkwardness, whilst Habib on the other hand, seemed to be lapping it up. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he beamed. “I’m always pudding my nose where it doesn’t belong.” Ellie grimaced, and again Charles laughed uncontrollably. “Have you any new starters today?” Ellie asked, keen to ease him off the subject of pun making. “Yeah,” said Habib. “One of the new girls, Xana. She’s a hard worker, if a little rough around the edges.” He looked over his shoulder to where a dark-haired girl stood moodily in the door to the bakery. Ellie recognised her from the briefing room that morning, noting how uneasy the girl had made her feel back then. Her steely demeanour did, however, shift upon seeing Charles; the ice in her expression melted, and for a moment Ellie glimpsed a scared child hiding within. “Anyways,” Habib continued. “I’m sure I’ll wear her down eventually.” “Or you’ll be the next one to disappear if you keep making those jokes,” Ellie jested, but Habib didn’t look so amused. Her heart skipped several beats: Habib’s friend Eddie had been one of the first to go missing. Ellie begged for the ground to swallow her up right then and there. “Habib, I’m so—” “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Honestly.” He grabbed a sack of flour from a nearby delivery cage. “I’ll see you soon, yeah.” Ellie felt like crying. “Don’t beat yourself up for trying to bring some joy into the world,” said Charles. “We all slip up sometimes.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s not even something I should have joked about — the missing people could be dead for all I know!” Charles offered up a solemn smile. “How many have there been?” “Five,” said Ellie. “At least who work here. The papers are even saying it’s happening with customers too.” “Blimey,” said Charles. “And there’s nothing connecting them?” “Apart from Freshfields? No. Rumour is starting to go around that there’s a serial killer on the loose. It’s a wonder people are still coming through the door...” “It’s very troubling,” said Charles. “Who was the last to go missing?” “Jackie,” Ellie answered with a sigh. “She trained me up on my first day.” She smiled. “Much like I’m doing for you. And now I need to impart my most important piece of wisdom: get your lunch while you can. Now come on, I’ve had my turn, now it’s yours.” Charles hesitated, and Ellie got the distinct impression that he wasn’t finished asking questions. Nevertheless, she pressed the issue. She could barely function in her mid-twenties without lunch, and she didn't dare think how draining it would be at Charles’ age. “Go on, I’ll see you in half an hour.” Reluctantly, Charles nodded and turned to leave. He made it half way across the warehouse before he turned back and called, “Ellie? Do you mind showing me how to reach the staff canteen?” Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure.” She started walking. “It’s this way.” She led Charles back out onto the shop floor, amongst the hustle and bustle of the public, most of them on their own lunch breaks, frantically trying to purchase their weekly shop before heading back to work. As trolleys and baskets whipped by in the hands of those maniacs, banging and crashing against everything and everyone in sight, an odd silence fell between Ellie and Charles. She knew he wanted to talk more about the disappearances, but didn’t quite know how to ask. Ordinarily, she would have been happy to oblige, but Ellie wanted to make a good impression on his first day. Talking about what happened would most likely scare him enough to never come back. “So, do you know her?” Ellie asked, forcing the first topic of conversation that came to mind. “Know who?” asked Charles. His bushy eyebrows curved inwards. “The new girl in the bakery.” “Oh,” said Charles. “Xana or something, was it? No, no, never met her before.” “Right…” said Ellie, unconvinced. “Cause I’d say she certainly seemed to know you.” If Charles replied, Ellie didn’t hear him. Her eyes had been drawn to a young man, no more than twenty, wearing a dark hoodie. His basket was propped between his waist and a shelf, and he was rooting around inside it. “Just keep following where we’ve been walking to the far wall,” she said to Charles. “Go through the door on the left and keep walking until you see the stairs, the canteen is at the top of them.” “Thank you,” said Charles, slightly bemused. He looked in the direction of the young man, interest piqued, but Ellie quickly blocked his view. “I’ll see you in half an hour.” Taking the hint, Charles begrudgingly followed her directions, and Ellie turned back to the young man. His hands continued to move within the basket, and Ellie arced around him to gain a better look. The young man was removing a yellow reduced sticker on a box of eggs with his fingernails. After carefully picking away at the edges, he carefully peeled the sticker back and placed it over the barcode on a roast chicken. The new price made it quite the bargain. Ellie quickly tapped at her scanner and scrolled through the menu to find the ‘Alert Security’ button. She pressed it and continued down the aisle, so as not to draw attention to herself. Reaching the end, she turned the corner and waited. In less than a minute, Steve Jowler from security had arrived, with the Korean man Ellie had admired earlier that morning. From his name badge she learned he was called Jae-Sun. “We got your SPIMS alert,” said Steve. “Where is he?” Ellie peered around the corner and down the aisle. The man was still fumbling around in his basket. “Him there,” she said. “He’s sticking reduced labels on other products.” “Right.” Steve cricked his neck. “Watch and learn, son,” he said to Jae-Sun. Steve bounded down the aisle like someone had pulled out the pin and thrown him. Ellie was surprised how the boy hadn’t seen him coming. He was discarding his unwanted, sticker-free, items on a nearby shelf when Steve pulled his shoulder violently to turn him around. “Store security. What’ve you got in the basket?” Steve asked, with all the pressure of a jackhammer. All the colour drained from the boy’s face beneath Steve’s dominating stature. His eyes widened and his lips moved up and down, but no words came out. “Come on, out with it. Have you been tryin’ to get yourself some cut price bargains?” Steve made a sudden, rapid movement with his shoulder. The boy flinched, and quickly began to nod. “I—I—yeah, I did.” “Alright then, cupcake. Come with me.” Steve grabbed the boy by the scruff of his hoodie and dragged him away. “I thought we weren’t supposed to man-handle them,” Jae-Sun commented. “We’re not,” said Ellie. “Steve’s a law unto himself — don’t follow his example, whatever you do.” “Yes ma'am." Jae-Sun shot her a smile that melted her into jelly. Steve came walking by with his captive in tow. “I’m taking him to the brig,” he said, which to most would mean prison, but to everyone at Freshfields meant the little room in the back where they kept shoplifters until the police arrived. “I’ll need you to fill in a witness account on SPIMS.” “Yeah,” said Ellie. “No problem.” Ellie followed Steve and his reluctant captive across the shop floor. Jae-Sun kept pace with her, but said nothing. To Ellie the silence was excruciating — did he not want to talk to her? She frantically fought for something to say, even the most trivial of smalltalk would suffice. “How many people have you caught stealing before?” was all Ellie could think to say. “It’s my first day,” Jae-Sun replied. Ellie clamped her eyes shut. She quickly followed with, “So you’ve never done security before?” to save face. Jae-Sun shook his head. “I served in the military.” “So did Steve,” said Ellie. She gestured ahead, where Steve was dragging the shoplifter along like he was a naughty dog. “Explains why he’s so aggressive, I suppose.” She gasped and tried to catch herself. “Not that you’re aggressive, you’re lovely!” She cringed and clamped her eyes shut once more. “Good save,” said Jae-Sun. Ellie didn’t dare look at him. They arrived at the security room, little more than a cupboard sized space near the store entrance. Steve opened the door and an arctic breeze spewed out, making Ellie shiver. “Did someone leave a window open in there?” asked Ellie. “Don’t get his hopes up,” said Steve. “The next windows he’ll be seeing will have bars on.” Steve bunged the boy inside like unwanted luggage, making sure to lock the door afterwards. “Isn’t that against the law?” queried Jae-Sun. “He lost his rights the moment he stole from us,” retorted Steve. Jae-Sun shot Ellie a look of concern, one they shared. “We can’t hold him captive,” said Ellie. “He’ll freeze in there.” “Then we better get the police here,” Steve grumbled. “I’ll leave that to you, lad,” he said to Jae-Sun. In the interests of their unlawful prisoner, Jae-Sun raced off to make the call. “Ellie, you can use the podium to write the report.” Steve showed her to a plinth by the store entrance, on which sat a large touch screen. Ellie logged herself into SPIMS and navigated her way through its menus to start typing up her account. A short while later, Jae-Sun returned, casting anxious eyes at “the brig”. “The police will be here in a quarter of an hour,” he said. “I’m going to check on him, stick with him until they arrive.” He held out his hand. “Can I have the key?” Steve waved his hand. “Leave him to rot in there, the thieving beggar." “Steve,” said Jae-Sun in an assertive tone. “He’s not an animal.” The two security guards locked eyes. For a moment, Ellie feared a fight was going to break out between them; she’d known Steve for years, and wouldn’t put it past him. The stalemate between them seemed to last an age, neither side showing any hint of backing down. It took Jae-Sun to break the silence, saying, “You know it’s the right thing,” for the tables to turn. To everyone’s relief, they turned in his favour. Without a further word on the subject, Steve slapped the key into his hand, and Jae-Sun hurried off to unlock the door. Steve looked around for someone to take the brunt of his anger. “You done that report yet?” he snapped at Ellie. Ellie tapped the screen a few more times. “Yep,” she said, moving away from the podium. Steve hastily took her place and assumed the position of a lion watching over his pride. “Steve,” called a panicked voice. They turned to see Jae-Sun racing towards them. “He’s gone!” “What do you mean he’s gone?” snapped Steve. “Did you let him out?” Jae-Sun, wide-eyed and alarmed, shook his head. “No, no — I opened the door and he wasn’t in there.” Steve abandoned the podium. He marched over to Jae-Sun and snatched the key from his hand. Continuing on his way towards the security room, Ellie and Jae-Sun followed. Steve opened the door and again a jet of icy air spewed out. Ellie traced it to the ceiling; the air conditioning unit was blowing a gale. Steve entered the room, looking left and right around the confined space for the young shoplifter. Other than Steve, the room was empty. “He’s gone…” echoed Steve. A dense atmosphere of shock fell upon them. In turn, each of them had their own look at the room, just to be sure. There was still no sign of their vanishing thief. “What about the cameras,” suggested Jae-Sun. They followed Steve back to the podium. The lines on his face deepened as he played back the footage of the security room door: the first time the door opened after Steve placed the shoplifter inside was when Jae-Sun came to unlock it. “Get the police on the line again,” said Steve. “Tell them we’ve got another disappearance. Ellie’s heart sank. She couldn’t understand how it had happened. From the looks of everyone present, no one else could, either. Ellie turned her head and saw Charles watching from the distance. His lunch must have ended, and his presence only made her heart sink further. This wasn’t the sort of first day she’d had in mind at all… Next Aisle: Chapter 3The next day started like any other. From the moment Ellie entered the store, it felt like business as usual. She’d spent the morning working through several trollies already, all the while trying to keep a low profile through fear of running into Carol. Ellie had expected to find the front of the store sealed off by police tape, the place swarming with officers searching for the missing man. Instead, customers came in and out as they always did — capitalism at its finest. If it wasn’t for Cheryl Hudson, it would have been very easy for her to imagine it was all a dream. Her voice was audible from several aisles away, telling someone or other an embellished account of what had happened. It was typical of Cheryl, jumping on the gossip as she always did, no different from a hyena, feasting on scraps left behind by others. It fascinated her why people still talked to her, given she had shared the secrets of almost everyone in the store several times over. Ellie found it remarkable that something about her personality still made people buy into her deceit. “...and Steve from Security said the guy had just vanished, like something out of Doctor X.” “Professor X is way better,” Ellie muttered to herself, placing the last box on her trolley and pulling it towards the shop floor. “If you ask me people just aren’t doing their jobs properly,” continued Cheryl. Ellie hastened her step before she heard something that made her cross. She had barely made it two steps onto the shop floor when someone called, “Hey there!” in a thick Irish accent. Ellie smiled to greet her, and recognised her as one of the newbies who had sat with Charles in the briefing room. As she approached, she hastily pawed at her wild, untamed hair, giving the distinct impression she had got changed for work in a hedge. “Excuse me,” said — as Ellie quickly learned from her name badge — Aoife. “I only started yesterday, and I’m having trouble looking into the logs on SPIMS.” “Oh right,” said Ellie. “I can help.” Aoife smiled and held up her scanner. “Thanks. You see, when I hit the data part of the app, it won’t let me view the colleague's performance stats.” “Ah,” said Ellie. “That’s because Gary changed the permissions on them a few weeks ago — it was getting a bit cutthroat between us all when we could see each other’s rankings.” “Oh,” said Aoife, disappointed. “I thought as a manager it would be useful to know that kind of stuff.” “Yeah…” said Ellie. In truth, she was surprised the data wasn’t available to Aoife, especially when Carol had only threatened to look at it and reprimand her yesterday. “Maybe speak to Gary about it?” Aoife grimaced. “I’m not keen on the idea of pestering the boss man on my first week,” she said. “He’s a nice guy,” said Ellie, “but I get what you mean.” Aoife continued to stab her finger at the scanner, and the conversation seemed to die. “I suppose you’ll just have to do it the hard way,” said Ellie, trying to resurrect the discussion as best she could. “Do what?” said Aoife, without looking up. “Find out who works the hardest.” She smiled, then realised Aoife wouldn’t see her, still looking down at the scanner. “Oh yeah,” Aoife said, as though her mind was somewhere else. Ellie frowned, unsure what else to say. She thought about getting back to her trolley, but felt rude without at least saying something as a parting comment. “For what it’s worth, the team in the entertainment section is great. You’ve inherited a good bunch.” Aoife didn’t seem to notice, so Ellie added, “See you later.” Aoife looked up from her scanner, if only briefly. “Nice to meet you.” She seemed nice enough, Ellie concluded, if a little scatterbrained. Then again, she thought, if she were new to a job and was expected to manage a whole team with no experience of how the store worked, she’d feel scatterbrained too. Ellie checked the time: ten-thirty. She’d started at seven, and the morning seemed to have flown. Flicking through the menus of her scanner, she hit the ‘Break’ button and set off for the canteen, discarding the device in the office on her way. From the moment she entered the doors to the canteen, sniffing the greasy concoction of a traditional English fry up, Ellie felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, and smiled as she saw ‘Maddy’ lit up in large letters on the screen. “You still off tomorrow?” a serious voice said the moment she answered the call. “Hello to you too,” Ellie chided. Maddy and Ellie were far past traditional hellos. They had known each other for so long that greetings held no meaning. Since the age of five they had lived in each other’s pockets, to the point that they were practically sisters. “Hello, dear,” mocked Maddy. “You still off tomorrow?” she repeated. “Sorry,” said Ellie. “I picked up some overtime in the bakery — helping out a friend.” “Here you go again,” said Maddy. “By this point you might as well have moved in. Did the store manager convert that disused office into a bedroom for you?” “It’s just the one shift,” said Ellie. “Besides, the money’s good.” She smiled. “And it’ll help pay for the new Professor X boxset…” On the other end of the phone, Maddy squealed in delight. “You better tell me you’ve got release day off, or I swear to God…” “Don’t worry,” Ellie assured her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “I’m relieved to hear it. Now, we won’t have to go calling an ambulance because you’ll have gone one day without working a shift, will we?” Ellie chuckled. “I’m not that bad.” “Trust me,” said Maddy. “You are.” “Look, I’m on my break, and need to get some food. I’ll see you Thursday, alright?” “No worries, girl, see you then.” The call ended, and Ellie smiled widely. Maddy was the sort of friend who, no matter what the situation, made everything better. If only I could meet a guy like that, Ellie reflected, trying to catch Jae-Sun’s eye from across the room as she bought a sandwich from the counter and sat down at an empty table. “Who said you could go working in the bakery tomorrow?” snapped Carol, before Ellie could take her first bite. Ellie nearly jumped out of her skin. Carol’s voice was like rubble on a metal roof — unexpected and harsh. “Just doing my bit to help out,” said Ellie, innocently. Carol’s eyes were like serpentine slits. “You do your bit to help my department before anyone else’s.” “But there wasn’t any overtime in our department,” Ellie pointed out. “I checked.” “There’s always overtime somewhere,” snapped Carol. Ellie could feel her heart racing. She knew there was nothing she could say that would change her mind. “Sorry,” she replied, weakly. “I’ll check with you next time.” “There won’t be a next time,” muttered Carol. She stormed away in a huff, leaving Ellie physically shaking in response. Ellie would like to say that was the first time Carol had treated her in such a way, but the truth was that it had rarely been any different. Even when Carol had been temporarily moved to manage the checkouts, she had still held her disdain for Ellie, and anyone else who crossed her sights, for that matter. Ah well, thought Ellie, at least I’m not the only one. Tucking into her sandwich, Ellie tried, as she had many times before, to put her encounter with Carol behind her, and focus on the positives ahead. Next Aisle: Chapter 4“What happened to Mrs Clause's dinner? It was stollen!” The groans amongst the bakery staff were audible. Ellie was only ten minutes into her overtime shift, and Habib was already on his fifth joke. He was on top form, barely looking down at the cookies he was packaging as he spoke. “What is Santa's favourite type of bread?” Habib paused for effect, even though everyone around him was trying not to listen. “Ho-Ho-Hovis!” “Alright, Habib,” said Xana. “We’ve heard enough.” “If you lot don’t like my cheesy jokes, then you must be laughtose intolerant!” he scoffed in triumph. “Thanks for covering Anna’s shift,” said Pat, ignoring Habib in the hope he would give in. “She’s been desperate to see Alanis Morissette for months now.” “My pleasure,” said Ellie. She enjoyed the warm, fuzzy feeling she felt when helping a colleague out. And the extra cash was always welcome. “To be honest, it’s nice to have a little change of scenery. I love working on grocery and all, but it’s always nice to broaden your horizons.” “Most people try travelling,” said Xana, then paused, catching herself. “Sorry, that came across ruder than I intended. I was meaning that most people I’ve heard say that are talking about travelling.” Ellie smiled, weakly, trying to cover how much Xana’s words hurt. “I’m not really one for travelling,” she admitted. “I’ve never actually been abroad.” Xana (not very successfully) stifled a scoff. Pat threw her a strong stern scowl, and said, “If you don’t want to travel, then who are we to judge?” She threw Xana another look for good measure. “Have you done much travelling, Xana?” Ellie asked. “Too much,” said Xana, and her own response gave her pause for thought. “And I’m really quite happy to stay where I am for as long as I can,” she reflected. “York’s a wonderful place to live; be happy that you’re here.” Despite her initial comment, Ellie appreciated Xana’s honesty. York was where she had grown up, lived her formative years, and experienced her most treasured memories. Everything she wanted was in the city: her job, her friends, and her home. While it saddened her to think that her parents were no longer around to make the list, she hoped one day to start a family of her own, and patch over the gaping hole in her life. Something moved near the entrance of the bakery, drawing her eyes over quickly. By the shelving baskets, overstocked with fresh loaves, someone was hovering, trying to be noticed, yet hiding her features at the same time. If the identity of the ‘mysterious’ figure wasn’t already public knowledge to everyone who worked at Freshfields, she might have taken an interest. As if on cue, Habib finished packing his pack of cookies, took off his apron and hat, and walked over to the exit. As he approached, the clandestine figure skulked away, out of view. “I don’t know why they keep up the pretense,” said Pat, shaking her head. “What pretense?” asked Xana. Ellie leaned in close, fearful of being overheard. “Habib and Carol. They’ve been together for a few months now.” “And everyone knows?” Xana shook her head. “What are they scared of?” Ellie shrugged. “The Freshfield handbook? Technically colleagues aren’t allowed to date, but I doubt Gary would mind, so long as everyone got along.” “We’re talking about Carol here, remember,” said Pat with a smile. Ellie laughed audibly, then caught herself. “I don’t know what you mean, Pat.” Xana walked away with a tray of fresh bagels. Ellie supposed she wasn’t one to talk about others behind their back. The thought didn’t sit well with Xana, as generally neither was she, but where Carol was concerned, any way to get one over on her felt good. “Are you finished with that mix, love?” asked Pat. Ellie looked down at the bowl in front of her. “I think so,” she said. “I did everything the recipe card said.” “Chuck an extra handful of sugar in,” Pat said with a wink. “When it’s baked it’ll be a little bland otherwise.” Ellie frowned. “But that isn’t the recipe.” The thought of going off script unsettled her. “Think about the customers, Ellie, not what the company tells you.” Pat walked over to Ellie, grabbing a bowl of sugar from a nearby shelf of ingredients. Ellie held up a hand to protest, but Pat nevertheless grasped a handful of sugar and threw it in the mixing bowl. “You shouldn’t have done that, Pat,” said Ellie. “What if Gary found out?” “Then he should thank me for giving our customers a better experience.” Pat smiled to reassure her. “Now you get that thing in the oven, and get Xana back here while you’re at it. We’ve got a lot to get done, and if Habib doesn’t get back soon, we’re going to fall behind.” “Where are the ovens?” Ellie asked. “The back room,” said Pat, with a signalling nod. Ellie grabbed the bowl and headed past several racks of oven trays, accidentally nudging one as she walked past. The caster wheels on their base started a chain reaction, sending them rolling out in all directions. Ellie froze, scared of them hitting her and sending the mixing bowl crashing to the floor. “Those bloody trays!” Pat called after her. “Habib is always forgetting to put the brakes on the little menaces. Don’t worry about them, we’ll sort them when we need them, just get that thing in the oven.” Ellie nodded and carried on towards the back room. It wasn’t long before she heard swearing, and soon saw Xana hunched over a scanner, smacking its side. “Are you alright, Xana?” Ellie asked. Xana spun around, as if caught in the middle of a crime. Seeing Ellie, she relaxed, huffed, and held up the scanner. “These damn things don’t make any sense,” she said. “If you’ve got a defective one, just grab a new one,” said Ellie. “Gary brought in a huge consignment of them the other week, said that he wanted to make sure everyone had access to them so it didn’t affect their SPIMS score.” Looking around, Ellie could spot at least four scanners in her immediate vicinity. “I’d just rather not be using them at all,” grumbled Xana. “Machines should never be in charge of our lives.” “You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” joked Ellie. Xana seemed to tense up. She looked at Ellie like a deer in headlights. “Not at all,” she replied, awkwardly. Xana left the room in a hurry, leaving Ellie alone with her bowl of cake mix. Walking over to the oven, she placed it inside, tapping the SPIMS screen on the oven’s controls to select the right time and temperature for her mix. When she was done, she shut the oven door and headed back to the others. On her way, the side door opened, and Habib stepped in, hastily tying up his apron. “Oh, hey,” he said once he noticed Ellie. “Hey.” Ellie smiled. Something made her glance through the door behind him, and she wished she hadn’t. Carol Baker was standing in the warehouse, hair ruffled. She and Habib had clearly had quite the encounter. The look Carol fired in her direction was akin to a nuclear winter. Ellie gulped instinctively and turned the other way, hoping that if she ignored the problem, it would go away. “Ellie, come on!” called Pat from the shop floor. “These shelves won’t fill themselves!” Ellie could feel her stress levels rising. All this on a shift she had volunteered for. Next time she would take Maddy’s advice and stay at home. With slumped shoulders, Ellie headed back towards the others, longing for the shift to end. Next Aisle: Chapter 5“You do know I hate coming into work on my days off, right?” Maddy chuckled. “Ah come on, it’ll be worth it when we’re back at your place watching a Professor X: Season Seventeen marathon with a big bowl of popcorn.” “But why here?” said Ellie, sticking out her bottom lip and stomping her feet in mock tantrum. “I spend enough time here already. Why can’t we go to HMV to get it?” Maddy slipped a wry smile. “You know all too well why. One, HMV is in town, and Freshfields is right around the corner. And two, you don’t get a colleague discount at HMV.” “Alright,” said Ellie, “you and your logic have won this time. Season Seventeen just better be worth it.” They passed through the store entrance, and already Ellie spotted three people she worked with. Whilst she got along well with all of them, the last thing she wanted was to speak with them — if she did she’d be in here forever, and before she knew it her day off would be gone, and she’d be back here anyway. “Morning, Ellie,” said Steve from the security podium. Damn, barely one step through the door and they’ve already got me. Ellie turned to give a polite wave, and blushed as she caught eyes with Jae-Sun. Grabbing Maddy by the arm, Ellie dragged her onwards, her face growing redder by the moment. “So who’s he?” Maddy asked, craning her neck to look back at Jae-Sun. “I haven’t seen him here before.” “No one,” Ellie replied, firmly closing the lid on any further questions. Though Ellie knew all too well that Maddy was an expert at removing tricky lids. “If I wasn’t mistaken,” she began, already making Ellie’s insides knot with cringe, “I’d say he’s someone you like.” Ellie gritted her teeth and moaned; Maddy always knew just how to get under her skin. “Okay, okay. He’s a new guy, and yes, I like him. Satisfied?” She threw her best friend a look that said ‘let’s drop it, alright?’, but Maddy pretended not to notice. “So why haven’t you got his number?” “Because,” she answered. “That’s why.” Maddy chuckled, satisfied her work was done. “Don’t worry,” she added. “I’ll make sure to ask him for you on the way out.” Ellie shot her a look of daggers. “You know, sometimes I really wonder why we’re friends…” Maddy beamed. “Because you love me, that’s why.” Despite herself, a smile crept across Ellie’s face. An escalator whisked them up to the mezzanine floor, where a display of several televisions awaited them, all playing the latest Bond movie. “I don’t know who thought Dwayne Johnson would be a good pick to play James Bond,” said Ellie. “My money was on Henry Cavill.” “He might not be able to act,” said Maddy, “but my is he good looking!” Ellie rolled her eyes and laughed. To her dismay, her mind instinctively harked back to Jae-Sun. She felt her cheeks reddening, and distracted herself by pulling Maddy onwards. They snaked through the various entertainment aisles, containing media players, televisions and games consoles, before arriving at the home media section. A plethora of the latest movies and TV shows were laid out in front of them. The two of them scanned the shelves with hawk-like precision, but were both left flummoxed. “It’s not here,” said Ellie. “Are you sure it’s out today?” “Yeah,” said Maddy. “The fourteenth.” She pulled out her phone. “Yep, it’s saying the same on the website, too.” “But not on the shelf…” “Looks like we’ll have to go to HMV after all,” said Maddy, dejectedly. “And lose more of my day off…” said Ellie, sullenly.” She gazed to her left, to a pair of battered and scuffed doors. “I mean, I’m technically not supposed to when I’m not working, but I could check the warehouse?” Maddy’s eyes lit up. “Yep, you should absolutely do that.” Ellie frowned. Gary wouldn’t exactly mind, not if it led to another sale. But if Carol caught her in there, out of uniform to boot… she’d make a meal out of the disciplinary. Looking back to Maddy’s pouting, puppy-dog face, she sighed. “Oh, alright then.” Looking over her shoulder to check for no Carol, Ellie approached the warehouse doors. She could see through the scratched plastic windows that there was no one inside. Checking once more that there was no one watching, Ellie entered the warehouse. The entertainment section of the warehouse was a fairly organised affair. Products were sorted into various categories that corresponded to their locations on the shop floor. New releases were kept inside a caged section in the corner, which was where Ellie headed. Ordinarily, a code was required to enter the area, but to Ellie’s surprise, a delivery box had been used to prop open the door. Even better, the box was marked with today’s date, meaning… “Result!” Ellie exclaimed. Sitting at the top of the open box was Professor X: Season Seventeen. A flashy image of Leslie Nielson as the Professor stood in front of the Tasid on the front cover. Ellie could scarcely believe her luck, and reached down for the box when a thought struck her: if she didn’t scan the box set out on SPIMS before buying it, whoever was working on Entertainment today — Gerry from memory — would be scored down for inaccuracies. She looked around for a scanner, and spotted one on the shelving further in the cage. She hopped inside and grabbed the scanner, seeing that it was already logged in on Gerry’s account. She scanned the box set out of the inventory, and was placing the scanner back where she found it, when a round of curses caught her attention. Through the back of the shelf she spied Aoife, the new Operations Manager, red-faced, swearing at a scanner in her hand. “Damn piece of junk,” she huffed — one of the more minor curses she had uttered so far — and cast the device aside. It clattered across the floor towards Ellie, and she noticed that its back panelling had been removed, exposing a mass of red and green wiring. “If it’s not in the devices themselves, then where can it be?” Aoife muttered. “Fitzgerald?” The familiar voice sent a shiver through Ellie’s spine. Carol Baker. Ellie backed away from the shelving and began to skulk towards the exit. “What are you doing up here?” Carol demanded, rather than asked, Aoife. “I’m covering Gerry,” Aoife explained. “He’s—” “I don’t care where he is, he should be here,” snapped Carol, “doing his job.” As much as Ellie wanted to hear the entirety of their conversation, self-preservation took precedence. Sticking to her tip-toes, Ellie made for the shop floor, as fast as her spritely legs would carry her. She made it to safety without a further hitch, where Maddy was waiting expectantly. “Well?” said Maddy. “Did you find it?” “Got it,” Ellie announced, holding up the box set as proof. She subsequently began to pant heavily, having realised she had been holding her breath since seeing Carol in the warehouse. “What were you doing, running a marathon in there?” Maddy joked. “Come on, let’s get paid up — we’ve got a marathon to start!” With haste, they headed for the checkouts and, to Ellie’s relief, Jae-Sun was nowhere to be seen when they left. Next Aisle: Chapter 6Ellie rubbed her eyes. The next time she decided to have a Professor X marathon with Maddy, she would make sure they started in the morning — she was getting far too old for late nights. She had practically dragged herself through to break time, and was the first to order a coffee from the machine. She sat, inhaling the steam from her cup when Cheryl Hudson joined her at the table, fixing her with wide, excited eyes. “Did you hear?” Cheryl asked, excitedly, flicking back her hair extensions. Ellie shook her head. “Hear what?” “About Gerry — he’s gone missing too. He turned up to work yesterday morning, did half his shift, and no one has seen him since!” Ellie thought back to the warehouse, how Gerry’s scanner had been abandoned in the warehouse. It wasn’t like him at all. He didn’t always have the best work ethic, but he always turned up for his shifts. “What’s the gossip, girls?” asked Olivia, who Ellie vaguely remembered as the new checkout assistant. She pulled out a chair and sat with them, placing a tupperware filled with what looked like acorns in front of her. “Another disappearance,” said Cheryl, as always eager to share gossip wherever she could. “This time it’s Gerry.” She paused, realising Olivia might not know Gerry. “You know, the lazy one. I used to work with him on checkouts before he got moved up to entertainment — he was pretty much just a bum on a seat.” Olivia stared at her blankly. “So he liked to sit down a lot?” Cheryl regarded Olivia with a frown, unsure whether or not she was making a joke. “Let’s put it this way,” said Cheryl. “If you wanted to get a job done, you’d give it to anyone but Gerry.” That explains why my Professor X box set was in the warehouse rather than on the shelf, thought Ellie, but kept it to herself — the last thing she wanted was to become a gossip like Cheryl. “I can’t imagine what his SPIMS score would have been,” Cheryl continued. “You’re talking about him in the past tense,” commented Olivia. “How do you know he’s died?” “What else is there?” said Cheryl. “I don’t see any of the other missing people rocking up, do you? Rumour has it there’s a serial killer on the loose in the city.” “Oh come on, Cheryl,” said Ellie. “A serial killer with a penchant for Freshfields colleagues and shoppers? I don’t think so.” Uncomfortable with the challenge, Cheryl stood to leave. “I’m only saying what I’ve heard, that’s all.” Or made up, Ellie thought, and again held her tongue. Cheryl moved over to another table, no doubt to spread the gossip further, leaving Ellie alone with Olivia, who was eating the acorn-like food she’d packed like crisps. “Does it worry you?” asked Ellie. “You know, starting the job here with all this going on.” “Not really,” Olivia replied with a shrug. “Whatever’s happening will get solved and then the others— I mean we— I mean I will be onto the next job.” Her eyes widened, panicked. “Because we— I mean I, never really stay in one place for long,” she added hastily. “I’m always going from job to job.” “Oh cool,” said Ellie. “I’ve always envied people who travel. I’d be too worried about going without a paycheck.” Olivia shrugged again, and crunched her way through another acorn. The conversation seemed to have died, so Ellie asked, “Where are you from originally, Olivia?” “Gendar,” she answered without thinking. Her eyes widened once more. “It’s… in Ireland.” “Lovely,” said Ellie. “I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland. Would you recommend it?” “You can’t go there!” said Olivia, panicked. She fumbled with one of her acorns and it shot across the table, hitting Cheryl in the back of the head. “Is it one of those places you can’t reach easily?” asked Ellie. “I’ve heard Ireland can be like that.” “…yeah,” Olivia responded. “It’s totally like that, yeah.” The conversation died to nothing once more. Ellie started to feel awkward, like she’d said something to upset her. She checked the clock and realised she was due back on shift. “I’ve got to go back down. Lovely to talk to you.” “It was lovely talking to you too,” said Olivia. “Have a nice day!” Her parting comment made Ellie feel better, but their conversation was far left of normal, that was for sure. What a strange girl. Next Aisle: Chapter 7Ellie raced back down to the shop floor, quick step. She had left her scanner on her trolley in the warehouse, which was a little further away than she’d hoped given the time she’d gone on break. She already felt rough today, and she didn’t need a low SPIMS score to add to it. She set off at a slow jog, past the alcohol aisles in the direction of the warehouse. However, rounding the first corner, she collided with someone. Not just someone. Jae-Sun. The speed she was going, she expected to knock him clean off his feet. To her surprise, however, Jae-Sun deftly shifted her momentum, slowing her down in a move similar to a twirl. “Are you alright?” he asked, calm and collected. “Yeah,” Ellie replied, quickly tidying her hair, part through embarrassment, and part through trying to look her best. “That’s quite some moves you’ve got there.” “All part of the job,” Jae-Sun replied, as smooth as a slide. “Better that than a shoplifter landing a punch.” Ellie laughed, then blushed. What was it about this guy? “You seem in a rush,” he commented. “Is everything okay?” “Oh yeah,” said Ellie, recalling the reason for her haste. “I need to get back to my trolley — don’t want to get a low SPIMS score.” “Then I won’t keep you,” said Jae-Sun, gesturing for her to go. “Thanks,” Ellie replied. “See you round.” Ellie set off to leave, quick step. With each successive step, she heard Maddy’s voice in her head, encouraging — demanding — her to make a move. “Wait,” she called back, and for a moment froze in shock. Had she actually said that? She turned and was relieved, not to mention terrified, to see that Jae-Sun was still standing there. “Everything okay?” he asked, the third time since their collision. “Do you want to go out for a drink sometime?” Her heart started pounding in her chest. Had she actually just done that? Jae-Sun stared at her for a moment. A moment that, while only a few seconds long, seemed to last a lifetime. In that moment, Ellie imagined all manner of ways he would turn her down, in escalating levels of severity. She didn’t for a moment imagine he would say: “Sure.” Ellie blinked. “Alright,” she said, desperately scrabbling for what to say from here. “How does tomorrow at eight sound?” “It sounds great, actually — it’s when my shift ends.” “Alright,” said Ellie, inwardly chiding herself for not using a wider vocabulary. “See you at the store entrance then — at eight.” Jae-Sun nodded with a smile, and Ellie melted. Unable to remain in his presence any longer, through fear of literally dying from embarrassment, glee, or something in between, she left. It was only a few steps later that she remembered about her scanner, and her ever-dropping SPIMS score. She had never run faster in her life. Ellie arrived back at her trolley and didn’t stop before setting it in motion. Lungs heaving from exertion, she fought back the pain, and opened up the device resting upon it, frantically inputting data to make it seem like she hadn’t spent all her break — and longer — asking out a guy she had fancied since the moment she clasped eyes on him. Hoping her SPIMS score hadn’t dropped as much as she’d feared, she pressed on towards the crisps aisle with the pace of an Olympic athlete. When she arrived on the aisle, she was pleased to find Charles there with his own trolley, replenishing buckets of popcorn that Ellie and Maddy had played their part in eating their way through the day before. “Hey,” said Ellie, beaming. “Fancy seeing you here!” “Hello,” said Charles, turning to wave. “You seem in high spirits today.” Ellie felt a nervous sting in her stomach, and the blood rushing to her cheeks. “It’s been a good day,” she said. The last thing she wanted to do was tell Charles and jinx the whole thing. “I’m glad to hear it,” said Charles with a warm smile. “Happiness looks good on you.” The comment made Ellie’s smile all the wider. She started unloading her trolley, hefting box after box of snacks onto the shelf. “Look at you go,” Charles commented. “What were you eating on break, rocket fuel?” “I left my trolley for a little longer than I expected,” said Ellie. “Can’t let my SPIMS score drop.” Charles’ face fell, his eyes showing a kind of concern she hadn’t yet seen from him. “No, absolutely not… Do you want me to help you get your trolley finished? I’ve been hammering these trolleys out at quite the pace today.” Ellie frowned, taken aback. She knew Charles was kind, but this was a little much. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got this.” Charles, still showing concern, hesitated for a moment before returning to his own trolley. “Oh, alright…” Ellie felt a stab of guilt. He was only trying to help, but there was no way she could put his neck on the line — what if Carol found out? “How are you finding the job?” asked Ellie, attempting to smooth over her guilt with small talk. “It’s actually quite a lot, you know,” he replied. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something quite so hands-on.” Ellie’s brow furrowed. “What did you do before?” “Consultancy work,” he said, vaguely. “Doesn’t always pay the bills, but I enjoyed it.” “That’s something you can be guaranteed here,” said Ellie. “It’s good stable work, and there’s always overtime somewhere if you’re struggling.” “And, like any job, it’s the people that make it what it is. Thank you, Ellie, for how kind and welcoming you’ve been since I started.” Ellie was so taken aback that her jaw hung open, and tears brimmed beneath her eyes. His comment had to be one of the kindest things she’d heard since she’d started working for Freshfields. She caught herself, realising how, really, the comment was little more than kind feedback shared between any coworker. What shocked Ellie was how unused to a compliment she was. It spoke volumes about her coworkers. Other than Gary, there wasn’t really anyone who seemed to show their appreciation for what she did, although she was sure it was there, acknowledged but unsaid. “Thank you,” was all Ellie could think to say. She fought back her smile, not wanting to show how touched she was through fear of embarrassing herself. Most of all, she didn’t want to jinx it. Not when she had a date tomorrow. Next Aisle: Chapter 8Night had long since fallen as Ellie walked along the street towards Freshfields’ car park. The dazzling reds and greens of Christmas lighting hung from the streetlights above, giving Ellie a magical feeling that bloomed inside her chest. For her, Christmas was an excuse to pull in some extra shifts to cover the cost of all the presents, her only day off being the day itself. Somehow, the childish magic she had once felt had faded, and a dozen pallets of Christmas stock delivery had taken its place. Without anyone special to share the holiday season with, work had served to fill the void. Perhaps, she thought, that magical feeling was the herald of change. Ellie fumbled around in her bag for her mirror and checked her makeup — about the thousandth time that night. Her insides tingled, and she soon put the magical Christmas feeling down to pre-date jitters. Ellie could scarcely remember the last time she had been on a date. Well, not a date-date anyway — whatever the strange outing Nathan Wormald took her on definitely didn’t count. She almost skipped with joy when he announced he was leaving Freshfields a couple of weeks later. She entered the car park of Freshfields and found herself greeted by its dominant neon signage, illuminating the night like a biblical star. Ellie scanned the cars and scarf-covered faces, searching for Jae-Sun amongst them. So far, there was no sign of him, and Ellie tried her best to dismiss the intrusive thought that he might bail on her at the last minute. Checking her phone, Ellie was relieved to see that she had no messages from Jae-Sun, and swiped away the one from Maddy wishing her luck with an emoji of an aubergine. She did, however, note that she was half an hour early. Wrapping her coat tight, Ellie tapped her foot, and chided herself for being too overexcited. She could hardly go home, and definitely didn’t want to go into work on her day off… again. Exhaling sharply, she watched her breath turn to mist in the evening air. As the vapour disappeared, her eyes refocused on a group of people gathered in the smoking shelter. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, if it wasn’t for the rather noticeable man with the white beard wearing a burgundy pea coat. Ellie had seen the rota yesterday: Charles had been given a day off, before a six day run leading all the way up to Christmas. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be allowed to work today. Her eyes narrowed, and she picked out who he was with: Olivia, the checkout girl, Aoife, the manager, Xana, the bakery girl, and… Jae-Sun. Ellie felt her heart flutter with excitement. Then her curiosity grew as she saw Aoife hand him a scanner which was evidently broken: wires protruding from almost every surface. He examined it for a moment and said something before passing it back to her. The group then leaned in, seemingly to study the device closer. Some further words were spoken, then Xana’s head reared up like a meerkat, and she looked directly at her. Ellie froze, feeling like she’d been caught snooping on some top secret business, and had to remind herself that these were her colleagues, nothing clandestine. “Hey, Ellie,” called Jae-Sun, raising his arm and jogging over to her. “Hey,” Ellie replied, and all thought of the others disappeared in a fog of infatuation. “You’re early,” said Jae-Sun, sounding a little sharper than Ellie had expected. She let it slide when he seemed to realise, and offered up a smile. “Sorry, that’s just me all over — always prepared!” Jae-Sun started walking. “Then let’s go.” “Oh,” said Ellie, surprised he had a plan. “Where are we going?” “I thought we could take a walk along the river.” Ellie grinned. A romantic walk seemed like a perfect first date. The river wasn't far from the store; little more than five minutes. Already Ellie could already see the York Minster silhouetted in the skyline. Ellie could scarcely recall the last time she visited it: these days her life revolved around Freshfields and meeting up with Madeline. The thought saddened her. When the New Year rolled round, she resolved to make a few changes — getting out more being one of them. “Have you lived in the city long?” Jae-Sun asked her, after what felt like an hour of being absorbed in her own thoughts. “All my life,” Ellie replied. “I grew up in Huntington and moved into the centre when I was eighteen. What about you?” “A few years now,” said Jae-Sun. He didn't seem to want to respond further. “And before that?” Ellie pushed. “Here and there,” he said, non-commitally. “But originally I'm from South Korea.” “Cool,” said Ellie. “What made you move?” Jae-Sun stiffened, as if reliving something he’d rather forget. “Long story,” he replied. Ellie gave a weak smile. “Sorry.” Jae-Sun smiled back, but it was clear she had unintentionally touched a nerve. An uncomfortable silence followed. Ellie risked the occasional glance and saw that he was staring straight ahead, lost in his thoughts. An unpleasant feeling formed in her stomach. Had she ruined this before it had begun? “How are you finding Freshfields?” she asked, unable to stand it any longer. The last thing she wanted to talk about on a date was work, but anything was better than silence. “It’s been okay,” he said, surprisingly pleasantly, given his prior prickliness. “There’s lots of sitting about on the security podium, which isn’t exactly my thing, but Steve’s entertaining enough.” “That’s one word for him,” said Ellie. She was delighted to see that he laughed. “So you’re not the sitting about type?” Jae-Sun shook his head. “Definitely not. I’ve always been active, as long as I can remember.” “I bet you’re buzzing when we get a shoplifter then?” He laughed. “I suppose so. But to be honest, we’ve not really had that many. Only a couple since the guy you brought to us.” Ellie’s gaze fell. “The one that went missing…” “Weird, wasn’t it?” he said. “There one minute, gone the next. Have any of the others been like that?” Ellie immediately thought back to her Freshfields mentor, and her heart sank. “My friend, Jackie, just sort of disappeared. Not too different from the shoplifter, now you mention it. She was in the middle of a shift; people assumed she ran off to chase after her ex-husband. She certainly mentioned it enough...” “Another one who vanished…” muttered Jae-Sun. The comment caused Ellie to frown. “You sound more like a detective than a security guard,” she said, unsure whether or not she was joking. Jae-Sun didn’t respond, leaving Ellie’s thoughts to hark back to the car park, where he was huddled together with Charles and the others. She decided not to bring it up; they were talking, which meant things were going well, even if it was just a conversation about work. “Does your family live locally?” Ellie asked, attempting to shift things to more personal matters. Jae-Sun shook his head. “None,” he said. “All back in Korea, though I still visit them during the holidays.” Ellie felt her heart sink. “You’re not around over Christmas?” “Depends how long the job lasts,” said Jae-Sun, before hastily adding. “I mean, my post is only a seasonal one. I might have to look for a new job soon.” “Oh,” said Ellie, downtrodden. But something didn’t ring right to her. “No, wait, your post is a permanent one — you’re replacing Terri’s position, after she moved back down south to be with her family.” She chuckled. “Unless she went missing too!” Jae-Sun’s expression changed for an infinitesimal moment, but Ellie caught it. He quickly retreated back into himself, not uttering a word, and Ellie was left feeling she had said something wrong. Oh God, she thought to herself. I told a joke about people going missing. He must think I’m a right cow! No, she quickly realised. That wasn’t it. She could see his eyes darting back and forth, like a chessmaster studying his next move. He was working out if Terri had gone missing like the others! It was like he was obsessed with it, not too dissimilar to Charles… Her mind again went back to the car park. The two of them were together, talking about something they didn’t want me to know about — that’s why Jae-Sun came running towards her, not that he was eager to start their date… Ellie felt tears brimming to the surface, but pushed them down, firm and hard. Jae-Sun had shown barely any interest in her since the date had started, and all he had shown any interest in were the disappearances. She felt like turning around and heading home, but the questions kept burning on her mind, and if the two of them weren’t going to work out, at least she could try and get some answers… “What were you doing with Charles and the others earlier?” Ellie asked, as innocently as she could manage. Jae-Sun stiffened, if ever so slightly. Ellie recognised the look: the same her father had when he’d been called out for visiting the pub on the way home after work. “I didn’t realise the two of you knew each other,” she added, subtly. “Oh, he was just asking me for a vape,” he answered. “But he doesn’t vape…” Ellie pressed. Jae-Sun shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know why he asked then,” he said, laughing. He pulled out his phone and pretended to check his messages. “I’m really sorry, I’m going to have to go.” He flashed his phone at her, quickly, not fast enough for her to see. “I’m needed back home — looks like we’ve had a leak.” “Oh,” said Ellie, feeling betrayed and insulted in equal measure. Jae-Sun pushed his hands in his pockets, and started to jog back towards the store. “I’ll see you around sometime,” he called back. “Sure,” said Ellie, as despair grasped her tight. She watched Jae-Sun race back along the riverside, not looking back once. Ellie let forth a single sob, not for their lost romance, but how duplicitous he had been. Were all men like this? She was certainly beginning to think so. Ellie took out her phone, and saw a text from Maddy saying, “How did it go?” At that the dam broke, and the tears came forth in waves. Time to give up the ghost, she told herself, as she had on so many other occasions. Once again she would put aside her happiness, and throw herself into work. She sniffed. The same workplace as Jae-Sun, where things would inevitably be awkward. Step by whimpering step, Ellie began her sorrowsome walk back home, wondering whether she had it in her to call Maddy without snotting up her phone. In the end, she decided it was almost a certainty. Besides, she already knew what Maddy would say: “Forget about him, hold your head high, and slag him off to everyone who’ll listen.” Ellie laughed, despite herself. Even when she wasn’t here, Maddy had a way of cheering her up. Then a thought struck her, a thought she found more troubling than her love life. Why was Jae-Sun so interested in those who went missing? Her first thought was that he was behind it; indeed, he was linked to the missing shoplifter. But no, it didn’t make sense, not if he was asking so many questions about those who had gone missing. Was he an undercover detective? Possibly, she thought, but not a very good one. Most people who worked undercover at least tried to remain undercover. Jae-Sun was about as blunt as a blunderbuss. But what did that leave? All Ellie knew was that she would find no answers tonight. But tomorrow was another matter entirely… Next Aisle: Chapter 9 |
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