Candlesight. Michael Liddy
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you, it’s nice to know that we’ve done enough for you to notice.”
“You have and now I’ll leave you to your day.” Without further comment the line went dead.
Amelia sat quietly at her desk, still holding the receiver dumbly in her hand. Her mind replayed every word the elderly man had said, and she felt intoxicated and somewhat stunned by the implications. Never overtly ambitious or political in the way she worked, it wasn’t obvious to her why Arthur had seen fit to say what he had. There could be no doubt though there had been a reason for the call and at the moment she had no idea what that reason was. All she was sure of was that some comments had been made as to Richard’s abilities, and she felt energised to make her instincts a little more vocal.
The return of Amelia’s attention towards Ted Warwick came several weeks later when the options for a new range were presented to her. As was now the practice, the prototypes presented were the standard fare provided from a range of suppliers across south east Asia and South America. All her people had done was collect a series of next season models currently on offer. Havesheld had had no contribution to their design whatsoever. What usually happened now was that upper and sole materials would be chosen and branding applied. Carefully instructed, the factories had the ability to produce whatever was ordered, but there was always a long process of repeated clarifications and fine tuning. It had simply become easier to choose from what was on offer and swap suppliers haphazardly to choice.
Amelia sighed as she regarded them. Completely derivative and unidentifiable from their competitors, they had absolutely nothing in their construction or design that commanded attention. Knowing that the range was a particularly traditional type she saw no immediate way, beyond names and packaging, to give them any flair or unique character.
Staring at a nondescript shoe the image of the Coremade product lodged in her mind and no matter how she tried to dismiss it the sense of its unique design floated back into her thoughts. To no one in particular Amelia spoke out loud in the empty conference room where the shoes were spread out around her. “Ted, you’re going to help me with these. You can forget all the rest, but these you, or whoever it was that did Coremade, is going to sort this out.”
Glancing at her watch, she noted it was well past 7pm. Knowing that nobody would be at the factory, she slouched back in the chair. She started to think about going home for the day; this could be a problem for tomorrow. As she started to let thoughts of work float from her mind an idea placed itself in her thoughts and she began to scoop the shoes back into the large athletics bags they had been delivered in.
It would be weeks before she could corner Ted, and because it had been months since she’d last pestered him he’d start again with his delaying ploys. If she went in there early and unannounced, laid all these shoes out, not only would all of the Coremade staff see them, but when Ted came in he’d have no choice but to deal with her little problem. A large note, for all to see, would explain the issue and perhaps her mystery designer, if he or she in fact existed, would get to see and maybe think about the problem.
Excited by the idea, Amelia retrieve the small ring of keys from her top desk drawer. Amongst them was one for the small door at the back of the factory with a tag for the alarm code. With difficulty she hoisted the three bags and unsteadily made down the wide corridor to the bank of lifts.
It was a dark winter’s evening, and a light drizzle filled the city sky with a heavy, ominous presence. The street lights glowed with a hazy radiance before the rain smothered their light a half metre distant making them look like fairy floss in bright afternoon sun. As she pulled into the narrow street at the front of the factory she frowned at its sullen disposition. During the day it was a dreary place, now it was withdrawn and dejected. A peppering of lights along the row of narrow terrace houses was the only suggestion that activity existed in this place.
Turning her car down the side street a few buildings down from the factory and then down the broad right of way that served the rear of the factory, she was even more taken by the oppressive surrounds. As Amelia pulled up in front of the high metal roller door she whispered to herself, “No wonder the developers haven’t come barrelling in here yet.”
Leaving the lights on Amelia stepped out into the chill night and moved to the inset door, hunching down into her long jacket. It took a few moments to negotiate the old lock, but after a series of movements it clicked free and the metal panel swung inward. Stepping past she reached the alarm panel and quickly punched in the codes. Cowed by the ominous presence of the warehouse, she reached for the large central switch and the huge space was immediately bathed in warm light.
Despite the presence of so much illumination the deserted warehouse still filled her with trepidation. There were dark corners and deep shadows everywhere, and the absence of any noise or activity left her with the feeling something was about to strike. Feeling her heart start to pound, Amelia thought of all the corridors and rooms that were scattered beyond the warehouse and she was on the verge of turning around and scrambling back into her car.
Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. “It’s the same place as during the day, it’s just that there’s no light.” Forcing herself to stare into the deepest shadows she walked a little way forward and stood resolute. Minutes passed and her emotions began to settle, the instinctive fears of her subconscious abating. She returned her thoughts to the reason she was here.
Excited anew by the idea Amelia retrieved the bags from her car, awkwardly shouldering through the narrow door.She headed for the Coremade section of the factory, ignoring the dark claws and teeth that lurked just within the pitch black shadows. Reaching the timber doors, she unlocked them and kicked them open with one foot. Again all was completely dark and she had to drop the bags to find the light switches.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to the large cutting table in the centre of the space. One end was relatively clear of leather pieces and tools, so she began to unpack and lay out her samples there. It only took a few minutes to order them all, and laying her quickly scrawled but highly visible note in an obvious location, she smiled to herself.
“Let’s see if this gets a response.”
It was as she stood there silently that she heard muffled rumblings coming from her left. Snapping her attention in the direction of the wall behind her she realised the noise came from beyond this room. Going from calm to panic within the barest fraction of a second, Amelia froze for a moment and then snatched the bags from the floor and keeping her panic in check she edged towards the open doors.
Out in the warehouse she stood in the centre of one of the aisles. Trembling, she stopped and spun to regard the row of doors along the back of the warehouse. All were shut and everything was silent. Her heart stilled somewhat but there would be no calming of her nerves. With a great deal of effort Amelia forced herself to take slow steady paces back to the factory and with shaking hands she turned off the lights and then hurriedly pulled the doors closed.
The sound she’d heard filled her mind, a steady grinding followed by a sharp thud. What it might be she had no idea, but there shouldn't anyone or anything else here at this time of night, and she knew all the rooms next to the factory section had been abandoned for years.
She wasn't sticking around to find out. Spinning around quickly, she ran down the long corridor of cartons. The dark black hole of the back door reared up toward her and it seemed to take an eternity to reach it. With every thunderous footfall she imagined something else was following, masked by those sounds, and must by now be within reach. She pushed through the tiny gap, the door swinging open wildly and clattering against the metal roller door.
Coming out into the drizzling rain she spun around quickly and backed towards her car, fumbling at her pockets for the keys. She searched for any sign of movement within the building. There was nothing. The chill of the night and the rain served to distract her thoughts and also gave her a sense of freedom; she was outside and unconfined.
Eventually Amelia managed to convince herself the rumbling noise must have been a cat or perhaps a possum and she admonished herself for being so timid and flighty. Shaking her head she unlocked the car