Chapter 2

After 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 3