Chapter 3: None of your Bisness

“-Alright, alright, well thank you anyway…yes…I hope he gets better soon…right…ok…bye…yes…bye!”, I chirped and put down the receiver, my smile drooped: why, out of all of the jobs that I could’ve chosen, did I choose telesales? One minute you’re trying to sell someone an inflatable flamingo, the next you’re being hung-up on, verbally abused or told someone’s life story, like the elderly man who I’d just had an hour long conversation with, not about the new iPhone, but his ill rabbit. The pay’s good thigh and I get to find out about other people’s lives without looking or ,in this case, sounding suspicious. Oh well, 30 more years until I can retire: Happy days.

 

“Was that another blabber?”, Chaz, my colleague and mate, asked me. Her hair was streaked in neon pinks, blues and greens and tied back in a messy bun.

 

“Yup. Like the hair by the way: it suits you”, I replied, then turned to my computer and signed in, I had a new product that I needed to read up on before I promoted it.

 

“Aww thanks babes. I got it done yesterday, looks fab, doesn’t it? I only went in for a bob, but then I got lookin’ at all these catalogues with Erica, my hair dresser, and I was like-“

 

I couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying, there was this nagging feeling about something I had missed the night before- when I had received the threat: I just couldn’t put my finger on it. In an attempt to distract myself, I scrolled through the information on this new product

 

 

‘24k gold litter picker! Rubbish collecting at its premium!’

 

I scoffed and scrolled down to see the suppliers:

 

‘Alfred Sledger, company CEO

Katrina Oak, Business manager’

 

It clicked, the thing I couldn’t put my finger on: ‘Business’. I thought back to the coffee boxes by the side of café Norman, odd address printed on the side, along with:

 

‘Bean there, done that: Coffee Bisness’

 

Misspelling of ‘business’ on both the boxes and the threat I received the day before, they must have written it: but why target me?

 

I suddenly remembered when I was trying to find my umbrella, I must of dropped my provisional license when I emptied my bag into one of the boxes; and so when ‘Been there, Done that’ had gone to offload more boxes and discovered my license they must of thought I was doing something dodgy and sent the threat.

 

“- and I had literally got to the point when I was screaming in Erica’s face to give me the bloody highlights when-“, she stopped suddenly, mid-sentence, “Hello? Are you listening to me?”

 

“Yeah”, I lied, swivelling around and snapping out of my thought coma.

 

“thank god! I thought you’d died or somethin’!”

 

I began to pack my things.

 

“Where you goin’?”, Chaz asked, twirling a neon prink strand of her hair around her finger.

 

I zipped up my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

 

“On my lunch break”, I replied over my shoulder and I walked away.

 

“But it’s only 10:30!”, Chaz called to my disappearing back.

 

Once, I’d left the building, I hurried across the carpark to my car; Unlocking it, I got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. I opened my bag, rummaged around a bit, till I found my receipt from café Norman, the threat and, of course, a packet of crisps. Popping the crisps open, I grabbed a handful and stuffed them in my mouth, then looked down at the other two items across my lap.

 

‘Business’: It’s a hard word to spell, but surely an official coffee company would spell it correctly; or maybe it’s just a typo, like the strange addresses inside the box: it just doesn’t make sense!

 

I cast my eyes over to the receipt:

 

‘Bottom Grain joint in Oblivion’

 

It’s like some kind of riddle? Code?

 

I stuffed another crisp in my mouth.

 

Crossword clue?

 

I took out my phone and called Dad.