30th January 2019Noah eventually awoke to the sound of Charlie tapping furiously on the small keyboard of the ptop. After a few minutes, Charlie looked up. “I was going to make coffee,” she announced, “But then I thought I might be ritually sacrificed if I touched any kind of coffee maker around you. But if you’d like I can rustle one up.”

  Noah mumbled in the negative and slid decorously out of the hammock.

  “How the fuck did you do that?!” Charlie excimed. “I nearly broke my bloody neck this morning, but hey, I slept well.” She paused, considering. “Thank you Noah, I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all this.”

  Noah smiled and padded across the floor. “Don’t worry about it. Well, you can worry about paying Jim back. Fuck knows what that’s gonna involve. But me, I’m your friend.” She grabbed a big coat from a hook by the door and said, “I’ll be back in five. ‘M going to grab the makings of breakfast. Right now, you can pay me back by getting the water going.”

  Charlie quickly filled the kettle and set it on the stove before settling back into her work. Noah returned a few minutes ter, shucking her coat and grinning. “There seem to have been no unwanted visitors to my pce st night. Michael texted me, he’s off to work – so if they’re gonna drop by, they’re waiting ‘til he’s out of the way. And I have sausages and eggs!”

  The cold morning sunlight illuminated a micro-kitchen Charlie had not fully registered the night before and she watched while Noah quickly chopped some mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes that she’d pulled out from somewhere, while sausages sizzled in the pan. Finally, Noah split what turned out to be a sausage and mushroom omelette onto two chipped enamel ptes and motioned for Charlie to sit. They ate, each lost in their own thoughts, but seconds after Charlie put the st forkful into her mouth Noah queried “So any idea where you went, then?”

  “I dunno… I’m not sure,” Charlie hedged. “It was like one of those run-down buildings out by the riverside office park, I think, but they all look the same, ‘n something makes me think it wasn’t that side of the river.” She paused, staring into space for a moment. “It was a weird one though. It was like a timewarp, and the whole area was a dump.”

  Noah quirked her eyebrows at Charlie.

  “Okay,” Charlie began, “I don’t really remember much about the outside. It was a big row of nondescript offices. Mostly for rent. Really shitty area, though. Big buzz-you-in-intercom, name and logo was just a slot-in-thing on the panel job.” Charlie waited for Noah’s nod before continuing, “But inside – well, it just smelled musty under the cleaning smell, like the pce wasn’t used much. I thought it was odd at the time. And all the company logos looked really dated. I mean, like all early internet or dot com-y - y’know, with the swooshes and all. I just remember thinking that was odd. And... I know it was a small office, but I didn’t see anyone else. No one, except the receptionist. Not in the whole building. I mean, it was after hours, so I didn’t think that much of it, but if they were rushing to meet the deadline – I remember him saying that... ‘we’ve been rushing to meet the deadline and let down by our usual couriers’... well, where were the rest of the ‘we’? Then I have to ride out to some fucking National Heritage manor house where they looked like they had no idea what the package was. They weren’t expecting anything. It was weird.”

  Noah looked at Charlie over her cup of coffee, “Anything about the guy who met you? Or the company name? Not that it’ll exist, but maybe, y’know, it might be something.”

  Charlie took some slow sips before she continued. “I can’t remember the name, which is stupid, because thinking about it, I remember saying to myself that I’d have to tell you about the pce, because it really did feel like a time-warp. It had the swoosh, y’know, the swoosh around the name. Made me giggle. And the guy was weirdly friendly. I thought maybe he was hitting on me? But he was all talking about getting us back again for more jobs, lots of work avaible, their usual couriers weren’t reliable. Never did, though.”

  Charlie put her cup down and let loose a string of expletives. “I’ve been thinking about this damn thing all morning. I can remember all this trivial crap, but not the name. And the guy I met, all I can tell you about him is I think he had blonde hair. Gaah!” Charlie filed a little.

  Noah wrapped an arm around her and said, “Okay hon, chill a little. We’ll work it out.” She flipped around and fished on the shelves behind the sofa, bringing out a very battered A to Z. “Okay,” she decred, flicking through the pages to their office, “Ride it.”

  She dumped the book into her p.

  “Uhm, what now?” Charlie looked perplexed.

  “Sit up, close your eyes, imagine the ride. Sit on the arm of the sofa if it helps. I’ll follow you on the map.” Noah expined.

  Charlie looked sceptical but sat up on the arm of the sofa. “Uh, follow me, I guess then,” she said, then mentally set off, eyes closed, arms outstretched as if resting on the bars of her GT550, leaning into the curves and, it seemed, stopping at various lights. Finally, she flicked her hands to the keys and said, “Right, I think I’m here?”

  Noah, who’d been switching between her and the map said, “Uh, I think, based on you riding fairly fast, you’d’ve been at Hopechapel Hill.”

  Charlie pondered for a second and shook her head. Noah stared at the map a little longer. “St. Ainsworth’s Street?” Charlie sighed and shook her head. “Alright, let’s try it again, and if you remember any road names, shout them out.”

  It took a few attempts, but finally when Noah said “Uh, how about Markswell Road?” Charlie lept from the sofa and spun to face her excitedly.

  “Bloody hell, that’s it! That trading estate off Markswell Road. Uh, it was… it was,” Her face scrunched as she dragged the information from her memory. “Yeeeesss! Eadmont Services, Level 3...err, Level 3...” Charlie fiddled with her cup “Oh! Brook House, Markswell Road. I am in awe, Noah – that rocked.”

  Noah grinned at her. “Okay, well, let’s see what's on the web for them.” She passed Charlie the ptop and bowed slightly “If you’d be so good, m’dy.”

  “Very funny.” Charlie shot back.

  She tapped on the keyboard, looked puzzled, and after several long minutes of searching finally announced “Oookay. Bit of an oddity. Either I travelled back in time on that ride – and before you say it, I know I ride fast, but I’m not that quick – or that’s not the real Eadmont Services.” She paused and tapped at the computer some more. “Weird. That company’s been shut since 2013. They went bust. Fairly spectacurly it seems. Everything’s been tied up in bankruptcy since. It should be vacant. The whole building should, I think. I’ve tried to follow the ownership but it’s been sold at least once every year. And each time it’s to like some shell company of a shell company that’s registered in the Virgin Isnds or some other crappy tax haven where you can’t get any information.”

  “Well, that’s not too much of a surprise, is it?” Noah seemed a little defted. “Given that it’s currently our only lead, other than a fleet of police vans and some charming fucking gents with a dog, perhaps we should take a wander down to Eadmont Services and see what’s there.”

  It was Charlie’s turn to look defted. “I don’t think you, or I, want to be seen there. If I’m honest, I don’t think anyone we know wants to be seen there. Not unless they want to encounter the vans and whatever else follows.”

  Noah nodded and said “No, but how about if we py a little dress-up first?”

  She motioned for Charlie to get her stuff, banked the fire again, and they slipped out into the frosty morning. Having locked up, she motioned Charlie in the direction of the farm.

  “Noah! Where’re we going!?” Charlie finally excimed as they marched across the defrosting field.

  “To the van.” was Noah’s unhelpful reply.

  “But..?” Charlie paused, “But you and Michael, you don’t own a van.”

  “You’re not the only one with a secret life, hon.” Noah seemed disinclined to eborate, but under the rusting shelter of what had once been some kind of barn, there sat a spectacurly ratty 1960’s van. Through the grime you could see that it had once been a two-tone, although now it was more a sort of monotone fungal colour.

  Noah flicked up the bonnet and disconnected something that, it turned out, was a charger. She grabbed a key from inside the engine bay, slipped in the sliding door and motioned Charlie in from the other side. Charlie hesitated, wondering if the decrepit object would even move under its own steam. She stared incredulously when it started first time. Although, as they pulled out from the shelter of the barn, Charlie reflected that if this was one of Noah’s vehicles, as it seemed to be, then you could bet it was pristine anywhere that mattered. They bounced up the track to the farm, and out onto the country roads heading towards the city. Unexpectedly, Noah slid down a side road after a few miles and parked up opposite a row of shops.

  “Shopping!” she said, shutting off the engine.

  “Noah, I know you have a pn, but would you mind sharing it?”

  “Oh! Sorry. I figured you’d’ve guessed, err, apart from the van thing, which I assumed you wouldn’t know about.”

  Charlie rolled her eyes, and prodded Noah.

  “Oh yes, um. Charity shops.” Noah gestured to the run-down high street on which they’d stopped, “Buy some not-like-us clothes, take the van, which they don’t know about, and go visit their office, which they’ve almost certainly cleared out but which might yield some kind of clue.”

  An hour ter, and kitted out in what Charlie described as ‘Hippie dippie shite’, Charlie now also sporting a wig that she said made her look about 15, they piled back into the van and headed off. A bit of toying on the web had revealed that there was a more active small industrial estate near their destination, and they attempted to park the van in such a way as to make it clear they’d be coming back and weren’t just dumping it there.

  “That’s the one problem with that’n,” Noah grinned, “It always looks like you’re gonna fucking dump it and run. The hippie stuff probably helps, or doesn’t. Can’t decide.”

  Either way, no one accosted them as they left the car park and made their way towards Eadmont Services. Small talk seemed to have failed them, and not wanting to discuss their current situation, they ended up making the walk in a companionable silence until Charlie suddenly stopped, looking deeply worried.

  “Shit, Noah, what’re we going to say when we get there?”

  “Wondered when you’d ask. If there’s someone there then we’ll just say we pressed the wrong buzzer. But I’m gonna bet there’s no-one in that fucking building. I’ve urbexed here before, they’re all empty.”

  As they got closer, Charlie burst out, “How did I not think this was screaming ‘suspicious’?” She looked around the street. Nearly all of the offices were boarded up, the peeling fly-posters and graffiti’d chipboard showing the area’s long decline. The stretch by Brook House looked marginally better, although the building sported a rge and dirty ‘To Let’ sign.

  Startling in the surrounding grime, the entrance way showed signs of having been cleaned. The litter strewn across the entrance was fairly fresh, unlike the other buildings they’d passed where it seemed to be part of the fabric, and the buzzer system showed promise. The lights were on, illuminating the occupying company names, and the whole thing shone, particurly in the dismal surroundings.

  Charlie held her finger over the buzzer for the ‘Simms and Brody - Solicitors’ and turned to Noah who nodded almost imperceptibly, turning herself away from the archaic CCTV camera on the wall. Charlie followed her, and pressed the buzzer while facing out onto the street. As she turned she realised the futility of hiding her face and quietly nudged Noah. Pointing, she indicated that whilst most of the buildings were in varying states of disrepair, they almost all sported at least one decrepit , rust streaked CCTV camera, at least some of which were pointing where they were meant to - and they’d brazenly just walked past a bunch of them.

  Having waited without response, Charlie next tried ‘UK Star Electronics’, who’d apparently occupied the ground floor, before finally pressing ‘Eadmont Services’. The ck of response was disappointing for them both, if not unexpected. They stepped away from the door and Charlie stared down the street.

  “D’y’think any of these buildings still have working cameras?” she turned towards Noah.

  “Doubt it. I think most of ‘em don’t even have fucking power.” Noah pointed up to the first floor of a neighbouring building. Through the window they could see ‘Emergency Exit’ signs with no signs of life, probably not aided by the gaping hole that’d burned through the roof.

  “Let’s just check the back of the building.” Noah set off, rapidly slipping through an alley between the buildings. The rear access road was, if anything, more dispiriting than the front. It instantly became apparent that someone had gone to a moderate amount of bother to make the front of the building appear in a much better state. Either no-one used the back for anything, or the front had been cleaned up for the purpose of making it appear occupied.

  The rear door had been boarded over, and a grimy padlock sat holding the plywood covering it shut. Charlie looked completely defted. “Great.” she muttered. Noah turned and handed her her bag, before promptly fishing in it.

  “What’re you doing?” Charlie watched as Noah pulled out an ancient metal tin marked ‘plus-gas’ and tipped a fair amount over the rusting lock.

  “You pick locks?” Charlie queried, before quietly adding, “I’m beginning to think there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

  Noah shook her head. “No, no lock picking. Let’s just go and get a drink. There was a garage a few streets back, wasn’t there? I could do with a coke. Or some other fucking can of pop.” Charlie looked perplexed but followed as Noah grabbed her bag and rapidly paced away.

  “That looked like oil?” Charlie breathlessly commented as she caught up.

  “Yup.” Noah’s near monosylbic response evaded any kind of useful answer.

  “So... why’d you put oil on the lock...and leave…if you’re not going to pick it?”

  Charlie needled at Noah who eventually responded, “To loosen it. I bet it’s not opened for years.”

  “But...you said no lock picking?” Charlie looked nonplussed, but Noah seemed unforthcoming.

  “Co,” was all the grimly smiling Noah supplied as she continued marching down the alley.

  Noah didn’t seem terribly interested in her drink, however. Simply grabbing the cheapest can of the cheapest drink in the garage, paying, and walking straight back out. Slipping back down the alleyway, Noah swung her bag from her shoulder and pulled out a pair of scissors. By now, Charlie was jogging to keep up with the much taller woman’s rapid progress while peering at her trying to work out what she was doing. Tipping the co away, Noah stabbed the can and cut it into pieces throwing the remainder into an overflowing bin as they sped past.

  A few seconds ter Noah slipped her trimmed piece of metal into the top of the padlock and a quiet click followed. She popped the lock into a ziplock bag, and dragged the door open. Inside the void the rear door of the building stood before them, broken gss and bent metal saving them the trouble of breaking in. Noah carefully peered around the inside of the door frame before cheerfully saying, “Someone’s already done the arm in.” Noah returned to the contents of her bag once more, pulling out two bacvas and handing one to Charlie before slipping one over her own head.

  “I’m going to have quite a lot of questions for you ter,” Charlie mumbled, but it was rgely lost under the sound of Noah pulling the door open, with the crunching of broken gss accompanying a succession of unpleasant noises as it unseized.