Meet Me at Pebble Beach. Bella Osborne
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Maybe he could join her after work for cocktails.
‘Bye, losers!’ she hollered, then she strode out of the office, out of the building and into her new life.
Well, she would have done if she hadn’t had an altercation with the bloody revolving doors. Trying to get through with her box was more than tricky. She got the box wedged and the door jammed. She reversed back out, ignored the sniggering receptionist, and tried again. Halfway round she heard someone call her name.
‘Regan!’ It was Alex and he was waving frantically at her. She staggered out into the street clutching her box and waited for him to join her.
Alex flew out of the revolving door looking puffed. He took a second to get his breath.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked.
Regan jolted backwards in puzzlement. ‘I’m ditching this shithole and starting my new life. I told Nigel to stick the job up his arse and change his filthy tie. You should have seen his face.’ She snorted at the memory. That was a picture she would savour for a very long time. ‘Oh and I’ve told Jarvis we’re over. It was going to happen sooner or—’ The colour was draining from Alex’s face and it made her pause her story. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Regan …’ He shook his head. Well, it was more of a wobble.
‘What?’ He was acting very strangely and he was delaying her starting her celebrations. She thought she’d try a cosmopolitan cocktail first – she’d never had one and had always wondered what they were like. Then she would order lots of expensive champagne.
Alex held a lottery ticket aloft. Regan peered at it. ‘Oh, did you win something too?’ He couldn’t have shared the jackpot, because she’d already seen on the website that there was just one winner. And it was her – eek!
Alex was shaking his head. He really didn’t look very well. He took a deep breath. ‘You’ve not won the lottery.’ He swallowed hard.
Regan grinned at him. ‘Yes, I have.’ She pulled the winning ticket from her back pocket. ‘We’ve both checked the numbers.’
He shook his head; his expression was solemn. ‘That is not your lottery ticket.’
‘Yes, it is. It was locked in my desk drawer.’ She frowned at him. He wasn’t making any sense.
‘This is your ticket. I switched them,’ he said, his face ashen. ‘I have your spare desk key. The ticket you have does have the right numbers but it’s for next Saturday’s draw. I bought it this morning.’ Regan’s grin vanished and a wave of nausea swept over her. She opened her mouth to speak but she had no words. ‘I was getting you back for the coffee. It was just a joke. A prank. I didn’t think—’
Regan was shaking her head like a bobble head strapped to a racehorse. ‘You’re lying.’ Her stomach felt like a washing machine on spin cycle. The sounds around her were muffled, like she’d been immersed in water.
‘Check it,’ he said, calmly, and pointed to the ticket she was clutching. She studied the lottery ticket that she thought had changed her life. She blinked at the date. He was right – it was dated for next Saturday. The realisation of what she had done hit her. An icy sensation went over her like she’d just done the ice bucket challenge. She had walked away from her job, her boyfriend and all her possessions. All because of a stupid prank. She slowly looked up. Her whole body started to shake uncontrollably. ‘You bastard!’ she yelled, dropping the box of office stuff and launching herself at Alex.
The force of her sent him flying backwards into the revolving doors and she followed, screaming like a banshee with its hair on fire. She pummelled him with her fists whilst he held his arms over his head to try to protect himself. ‘I’m sorry!’ he shouted. Regan grabbed his head and began banging it on the glass, the momentum of which started to turn the revolving door.
‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ hollered Alex, each time his head hit the glass.
‘You fart-brained shitbungle!’ yelled Regan.
Someone grabbed Regan from behind and hauled her off Alex. With her arms still flailing she turned around to have a go at whoever had interrupted her. ‘Woah!’ said a broad-shouldered guy. ‘You need to calm down.’
‘You need to keep out of this,’ snapped back Regan.
‘I’m a police officer.’
‘Then arrest him. He’s ruined my life!’ She spun back to have another go at Alex but he had managed to push the revolving door round so he was trapped in the middle section, where he was safe from her assault. ‘Argh!’ she beat her fists on the glass in frustration making Alex wince like a trapped animal.
Inside the security guard was heading towards the doors. ‘Come on,’ said the police officer, who wasn’t wearing a uniform. ‘You don’t want to get arrested.’
‘You need to arrest him.’ She shot the police officer a glare, but stopped short when she noted his stony response. She was in enough of a mess. He was right – she didn’t want to get arrested, although at least she’d have somewhere to sleep tonight if they locked her up. The thought was a sobering one.
Regan watched the police officer picking up her scattered items and returning them to the box. It was like watching someone else’s life scattered across the pavement – fragments of her minor achievements that had now been rendered completely useless by Alex’s practical joke.
‘Come on, let me buy you a coffee,’ said the officer, standing up.
Her whole body was trembling with shock. She watched Alex scramble out of the revolving door into the safety of the lobby and speak to the security guard. He still looked scared but he was telling the guard he was all right. She wanted to kill him. She’d never felt like that in her life before. She hadn’t known she was capable, but right now she wanted to do Alex serious harm.
The police officer took hold of her arm. ‘Come on,’ he said, giving her a tug to make her walk. She reluctantly dragged her glare away from Alex and walked in step.
Regan was in a daze. Her life was ruined. Everything wiped out. And for what? Payback? A laugh? She turned on her heel and began heading back to the office.
‘I am going to kill Alex.’ It was the only solution.
‘Hang on,’ said the copper, with a firm grip on her arm, making her swivel round. He was surprisingly strong. ‘You’re looking at an actual bodily harm charge. He’s not worth it.’
‘He’s worth doing time for murder,’ said Regan, wrenching back her arm in frustration.
‘I tell you what: seems like you need something stronger than a coffee, so I’ll buy you a drink. You tell me exactly what’s happened. And if you still feel the same, I’ll hold him still for you. Deal?’ He gave her a cheeky grin. If her world hadn’t just imploded she’d have found it cute, but right now it was simply annoying. ‘I’m Charlie, by the way.’
‘Regan,’ she said.
‘From King Lear?’
She frowned. Had there been a recent adaptation on the telly or something? ‘Yeah. That’s right.’ It wrong-footed her enough that she stopped resisting and found herself being towed along by Charlie, who was still gripping her hand.
In a nearby bar she regaled him with the whole sorry story, accompanied by animated arm-waving for full effect. When she reached the end she felt like she’d hit the bottom of a well.
‘What can you charge him with?’ she asked, hopefully.
Charlie pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘I’m pretty sure there’s nothing he could be charged with. He’s done nothing against the law.’
‘But