The One Who Is Two (Book 1 of White Rabbit)

In no time Loofah was at sea in an ocean of desks, potted plants and room dividers, fighting to control a rising tide of anxiety. He couldn't quite remember why, but he knew he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing, he knew he was disobeying orders. The sound of telephones, computer cooling fans and business chatter washed over him, while Identikit executives and pleasure doll secretaries cast suspicious glances as he passed. Their faces, leering at him with reptilian hostility, were lurid cubist sculptures under the harsh fluorescent light. Why was he here, he thought, why wasn't he back at his desk working on…

  'Those figures ready yet?' Sutton darted from behind a room divider like an attacking barracuda. Loofah looked at him blankly, opening and closing his mouth like a drowning fish. This was it, he was done for.

  'Er…' he said.

  'Right. Brilliant. That them?' The marketing executive pointed at the crumpled paper half-hidden under Loofah's jacket.

  'This?' said Loofah weakly. But as he held up the fax, he caught the words on the uppermost section: 'Important message. Report to the Under Manager. Very urgent. Top priority.'

  'Actually, no,' he said quickly, pulling the paper close to his chest, 'definitely not.'

  Sutton's eyes widened with surprise – then narrowed with suspicion.

  'The fact is,' Loofah went on, 'it's a message from Miss Leggett. The Under Manager.'

  'A fax?' asked Sutton, dubiously.

  'An internal fax. She needs to see me straight away. Very urgent. Top priority.'

  'Best if I take a look. Right?' said Sutton, holding out his hand for the fax.

  'Sorry, Mist… um… Dave.' Loofah looked the marketing executive straight in the eye. 'No can do. It's confidential, you see. Commercially sensitive. My eyes only, that sort of thing.'

  For a few moments Sutton's his hand hung awkwardly in the space between them. Then, with a slight shrug, he retrieved it.

  'Right. That's it then,' he said, 'Favoured personnel. Blue-eyed boy. Off you go.' The marketing executive paused to examine his fingernails, eyes moistening behind glittering lenses. 'Best not to forget old friends, though, eh?' he went on, looking up with an ingratiating smile, 'Everyone needs friends. Even at the top. Especially at the top. Right? Right.'

  With this, he shook Loofah's hand warmly and then disappeared into the controlled maelstrom of the office.

  'Straight on to the ornamental fig,' read the now very crumpled fax, 'then hang a right. On past the coffee machine and left at the grey filing cabinets. Then ask again.'