Epilogue

Ellie stood outside the main entrance of Freshfields, hands pushed deep in the pockets of her padded coat. Two weeks had passed since SPIMS had been eradicated, and from the outside, the store looked no different. Part of Ellie wondered what had changed on the inside without a killer computer program on the loose, but knew that Cheryl would still be spreading her gossip, Habib would be telling his puns, and Carol would still be a bitch. 
She sighed deeply. While the wheels of change moved the world along, they sometimes never did reach the things that needed it most. 
She stood staring at the store sign for a good few moments longer, pondering her next move, and if she had the strength to make it. 
“You look well,” said a voice to her side.
Ellie looked around. Standing at the edge of a parking bay was Charles, in his burgundy pea coat, adorned with a thick grey scarf. 
“Where have you been?” Ellie asked, with an edge of irritation. “We stop a rogue AI system and you just bail?”
“I’m sorry,” Charles admitted. From his face it was clear he meant it. “There’s always some other threat to face. We stuck around here for longer than we’d bargained for.”
Ellie huffed, but knew she had forgiven him. Something about Charles made it hard not to. “What was it this time? Killer banshees from Zog?”
“Killer shapeshifters from Huwyma, actually,” Charles answered, with all the seriousness of a Maths teacher. 
“If you’d have told me that a month ago, I would never have believed you.”
“Life has a way of opening our eyes,” Charles reflected. “And it’s much more fun than sitting at home glued to a TV set.”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been keeping tabs on me?” 
“My line of work affects people in different ways,” Charles said by way of an answer. “Some people it inspires, others it breaks.” He looked at the store sign above them. “Are you ready to go back?”
Ellie shook her head. “I’m not here to start my shift,” she told him. “I’m here to hand in my notice.”
Charles threw back his head in shock. “Now that’s something I never thought you’d say…”
“It’s time for a change,” Ellie said, feeling her voice break as the words left her lips. “I’ve used this place as a crutch for far too long.”
“Then you’ll be looking for employment,” said Charles, tugging at the lapels of his coat. 
“I’m sorry,” Ellie answered. “You gave me a taste of that life, and I almost died — twice.”
Charles looked defeated by her answer; his gaze fell. “You saved many lives that night, and could save many more if you joined us, but I respect your decision.”
Ellie had expected him to have put up a fight, tried harder to convince her. She should have known he’d be too polite. Despite the ruse, at heart he really was Charles Zoltan, the shelf-stocker.
“I’m going travelling,” she told him. “Freshfields has been my safe space for far too long. It’s time for me to grow.”
“The change will do you good,” Charles said with a genuine smile. “Where are you thinking of going?”
“I’m not sure,” Ellie answered honestly. The mere concept had been scary enough to grapple with, and the decision itself would need careful thought, especially since she had never been on a plane or boat before.
“Well, whatever you decide, be sure to let me know. I’ve been around a long time, and made friends in a lot of places. I’m sure there’s someone I’ll know who can sort you out with a place to stay.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Now I’m going to have to go. I shouldn’t spend any more time here than I have to.”
Removing a hand from her pocket, she withdrew a white envelope. Inside was her notice, a single piece of paper that would set the wheels of change in motion. Charles looked at the envelope and bowed his head in understanding. 
“It was nice meeting you, Charles,” she added. “I think if I hadn’t I wouldn't have ever done this.”
“It was my pleasure, Ellie Jackson. I hope one day we’ll meet again.”
Charles took his leave, heading across the car park to a battered old people carrier, with Aoife sat in the driving seat, looking tired and grumpy. Ellie gave her a wave, then turned back to the store, ready to set things right.

In the manager’s office, Carol Baker sat behind a desk, tapping away at her computer. She barely looked up as Ellie entered. Ellie expected no less — what little more was needed to show her worth to these people?
“You’re back, Jackson?” she said, disinterested. “Time to get some work done instead of lounging about on your arse.” 
Ellie threw the envelope at her like a frisbee. "Get stuffed, Carol.”
She turned and walked away without a further word. Her heart beat like a rock concert, but she had to admit, it felt good to stand up to her, in the knowledge that never again would she let someone as bitter and twisted rule her life again. Ellie held her head high, and marched towards the exit, ready, at long last, to take life into her own hands. 

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Thank you for joining us on your holiday at Freshfields, and we hope you join the SIGNET crew for their next adventure!
As a special treat, enjoy Habib's personal documentation of his Bread Puns!

If you had trouble finding any of our little treat side-stories, click here to see a list of them now that you've reached the end of our tale!