"I hate this ruddy shop! Not all of us can just flash customers a smile and get them to part with a few thousand pounds! It's not that simple."
Merlin tried to tune out of Cedric's whinging. It was a regular occurrence, happening almost daily now. But really, when they were on the shop floor, all Merlin was really interested in was selling products, no matter if they were the super-expensive laptops, right down to the smallest of MP3 players. They worked on commission, and while it wasn't a lot, it was what he needed to get himself through the month. Besides, talking to customers made the time go faster than listening to Cedric.
It wasn't that Merlin couldn't relate to the problem, though, because he definitely could. Selling anything over a few hundred pounds, which was the majority of the stock in the store, was difficult in the current economic climate. He really hated it when people used that phrase as an excuse, but it was true. There was no doubting that it was much more difficult to get people to part with their hard-earned cash these days than it ever had been in any of Merlin's previous jobs, and there was quite a list of jobs he'd started, then left.
Most of them in retail, and the experience had allowed him to get this one. Jobs which came with commission were high in demand, but Merlin had quickly came to realise that it was only a benefit it you actually worked hard enough to pull in the big sales.
"Why don't you try selling headphones for a bit?" Merlin suggested, since they were currently standing around some of the most high-end laptops, which were notoriously hard to sell.
Cedric snorted, not wanting to degrade his status enough to hang around the headphones, one of which actually cost under a hundred pounds. The horror!
"I'm not wasting my time there, Merlin. Everything's fine for you - they just think you're sweet or whatever and practically throw the money at you."
Merlin glanced to his right, a plan forming in his head, but one he knew he would end up regretting before long. It wouldn't be the first time he'd resorted to such measures, either.
"Okay, fine. My next sale, I'll give you credit for."
The grin on Cedric's face was almost grimy.
"Thanks mate, I knew there was a reason everyone seems to fall at your feet."
Merlin nodded humbly, then headed off to the other side of the store. Here a lot of people just hung around, playing on the products with no intention of actually buying anything. It was sometimes difficult to find the people serious about making a purchase, but once they were located, selling was generally easy. Most of these people had already thought long and hard about a purchase, and this was just the final stage of that process.
"Can I help you with anything?" he asked a freckly teenager, who was currently playing on a racing game on one of their more popular models.
Ten minutes later, he was handing over a mid-range MP3 player in a plastic bag, wishing the boy a pleasant day as he counted the crumpled ten pound notes into the till. He was signed onto the till using Cedric's name, so he'd get all the credit for the sale, and the small amount of commission would go into his pay check at the end of the month. Merlin wasn't too worried, though - he could sell something of that price at least twice an hour, every hour, if he was so inclined. But there was something much more exciting about selling the more expensive items. He liked the challenge.
"Well, you've officially sold one thing today," Merlin told Cedric once he'd made his way back over to one of the laptop tables. The man in question was just staring at the wooden table top glumly until he heard Merlin's words.
"That's great mate! I completely owe you one."
"Yeah, you do. So bugger off to the headphones or something, would you?" Merlin requested, his tone teasing as he forced his usual sparkle back into his eyes.
"Whatever you say, mate," Cedric replied, clapping the younger man on the shoulder as he headed away from the stand.
Finally, peace. Merlin breathed for a second, then got back to work.
"Can I help you with anything, Sir?" he asked, talking a few steps towards the nearest person on a laptop. He was blonde, tall, and looking rather frustrated about something.
"Yes, actually. Is this the best model you have?" the customer asked, indicating the white laptop in front of him.
"It's not, actually. This one was released last year, but we've got a newer version over here which has a few extra features and is quite a lot lighter and thinner," Merlin explained. He gestured for the man to follow him over to that laptop, expecting he'd want to try it out.
"Good, I'll take that one then," the man announced, without taking a single step.
Merlin blinked in surprise; sales were rarely that easy.
"Okay, if you're sure, Sir. I'll just fetch you the box from the stock room. I won't be a minute."
He raced through the door and into the back shop, wanting to get the sale through the tills before the man could change his mind. From this model, Merlin would get quite a decent amount in commission, especially since this was the product they were always meant to be promoting above all the other laptops.
He lugged the heavy box through the code-protected doors, and relief rushed through him to see the tall man still standing there, though he did look rather impatient.
"Here we go," Merlin said, unnecessarily. "If you want to follow me over to the till point."
The pace he set was slow, mostly due to the fairly heavy box he was carrying. He thought that he could make out the man's footsteps behind him, despite the constant high volume in the shop.
"These models have been quite popular over the last few weeks, you know," Merlin said, trying to make small talk, as he did with all his customers. The man didn't seem to have heard him, so he let it drop.
"So, that'll be £2,459, please," Merlin said, tapping the right buttons on the screen to allow his customer to place his card in the reader. Absently, Merlin wished he could be the kind of person to march into a door, wave his credit card around and buy one of the most expensive items that was sold there. He daydreamed a bit more as the man entered his pin number, taking extra care to make sure Merlin, or anyone else, couldn't see the numbers that were being pressed. It wasn't exactly unusual, but Merlin didn't like the thought that people didn't trust him.
Then a big, red error message came up on his screen.
Merlin gulped.
"Umm, it says that your card has been rejected by the card issuer," he announced. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and it was just as embarrassing every time. Really, it should have only been awful for the customer who owned the card, but Merlin always felt sorry for them as they got more and more flustered.
The man just blinked, though.
"Just try it again. It must have been a mistake," he said, speaking confidently.
"Sorry, Sir, but it says I'm not to try to process the card again." It was the truth, and he even swivelled the screen around so that the customer could see the huge, bold letters telling him that that card had been rejected, and then in a slightly smaller, but equally noticeable, font that the card should be returned to the customer and not attempted to be processed again. Merlin wasn't about to break company policy over this, even if it would be missing out on rather a lot of commission. "It suggests you should call your card issuer to sort out the problem," Merlin explained.
"Yes, I can see that. I can read, thank you," the man snapped back. "Wait here - I'll be back shortly, and you will try to process the card again."
Merlin tried not to gulp at the concealed threat and nodded his head. He wasn't about to get on the wrong side of this man, though he feared he was already there.
As the blonde man strode off to push angrily at buttons on his phone, Merlin just stood awkwardly at his till. He'd barely been waiting for two minutes when another employee asked what he was doing, and Merlin had no choice but to reply that he was waiting for someone. He indicated his customer and muttered something about how his card had been rejected. Helen just nodded her head, but with a raised eyebrow which suggested he wasn't doing the right thing. He really hoped he was, though. The managers were always going on about great customer service, and waiting for a customer while they were trying to sort something out was certainly good practice. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long for the phone call to come to a conclusion.
Several more minutes later, Merlin was sure things weren't going well. The man's movements were becoming much more agitated. He gesticulated wildly at something he was being told, spinning on his heel so that Merlin could see the unsuppressed anger on his features. The employee was unaccountably glad that he wasn't on the other end of that phone. Then, the pacing began. Other customers were starting to give him wary looks and bypassing him as they moved from one part of the store to another. Merlin wanted to tell them to calm down - things obviously weren't going well on the phone, but that didn't mean he was about to get out a gun and start shooting. Well, actually, for all Merlin knew he could have a gun. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. But for some reason, he was sure that the man didn't. The card fiasco was just a misunderstanding.
He was quickly pulled out of his contemplating as the end call button on the customer's phone was stabbed with a thumb, and then the owner of the phone was striding towards him. Merlin tried his best to look calm and collected, like he was completely in the right. Because he was, after all, even if he didn't necessarily feel like he was at that particular moment.
"You've done something to my card, haven't you? Think you can wire money from it, do you? How did you get my card number? I have very good security, so you can rest assured you'll never get a penny from me."
Merlin stood, silently and still. He couldn't believe someone was literally accusing him of stealing someone's money. Thousands upon thousands of pounds from the sound of things, too.
"I honestly haven't done anything. We can't do anything like that from these tills – honestly."
"Well maybe you didn't do anything from this till, but you've done something somewhere. And I'll find out what. And then I'll get you fired. See, wouldn't it just be easier to tell me now?"
Merlin shook his head stiffly, lost for words. The man seemed to take this as a confession. His eyes narrowed considerably.
"I will find out, so if you want to keep your job, stay in touch." He spoke harshly, without the slightest hint that he actually wanted to hear from Merlin ever again. He handed over a card which didn't even have a name on, just a number. Merlin took it with a shaking hand. "Merlin," he crazed man said. Merlin's eyes flicked up out of habit, and he met the customer's eyes for barely a second. "I'll remember that name, to give to the lawyers." Merlin gulped at the threat.
Then, all of a sudden, the man's tone changed. It was no longer threatening, but under normal circumstances Merlin would still have been intimidated.
"Put it on reserve for me - I'll be back to collect it shortly," the man commanded, the fury which had been on his face only moments before barely concealed. He didn't even wait for Merlin to react before he was taking quick strides out of the shop, creating a path through the crowds of people as they moved out of his way, somehow instinctively reacting to the anger radiating off him.
He had a really long stride. He must have taken less than ten steps to get all the way to the other end of the shop and leave, merging almost instantly into the crowds of shoppers which crowded the space between the tech shop and the clothes shop opposite. Merlin tracked his blonde head for a second, but then he was gone, the wall creating a barrier he couldn't see through. Well, if he'd been that bothered he could have made the wall translucent, or even completely invisible. It probably wouldn't be a great idea to draw so much attention to himself in such a public place, especially one where he was well known. The magic had the potential to be tracked back to him.
It was only then that Merlin realised it must look like he'd been staring into space for quite a while. Well, he supposed he had in a way. He flicked his eyes around him quickly, hoping no-one had seen his preoccupation. Pulling the laptop box off the counter, he set about finding a reserved sticker to put on the box, before realising that he had no idea what the customer's name had been. He hadn't even caught a glimpse of the name on his card as he put it in the reader, since he'd been so busy trying to conceal it. Merlin frowned, but accepted that it would have to do. He returned the box to the stock room, then headed back onto the shop floor. But he really wasn't in the mood to work anymore, his thoughts too wrapped up in the unknown story of the man. He couldn't focus properly for the rest of the day.
Rather than decreasing as his feet pounded the streets of London as he looked for a free taxi, his anger was swelling. Just who did his father think he was to withdraw all the funds from his account? Arthur had things to buy. Important things to buy, and he couldn't bloody well do anything with an empty bank account!
Eventually he found a taxi, and attracted the cabbie's attention by practically stepping in front of the moving vehicle. Not the wisest move, but he wasn't in the best state of mind at that moment.
It dropped him off outside his father's work building. Arthur went to shove him a fifty-pound note, but then hesitated when he realised that his funds may not be quite as unlimited as they once were. He grabbed a twenty instead. It was still a five pound tip, which was a fair amount more than the man deserved. The taxi wasn't the cleanest he'd ever been in. Just another reminder why he preferred private cars to semi-public transport. He didn't like the thought of other people sitting in the back of the vehicle he was travelling in. Cars should be his, and only his. Even if he rarely drove himself around London.
He stabbed the button for the twenty-sixth floor after he'd been cleared by the receptionist. Uther was being called as the lift moved steadily upwards so he would be prepared for Arthur's entrance. The blonde haired man wondered if he would be prepared for Arthur's anger, too.
Meanwhile, potential clients were being shuffled out of Uther's meeting rooms. It didn't really matter, since they were only after a fairly small scale deal. Barely worth all the dinners and small talk, but Uther allowed it anyway. It made work more interesting.
The older man was standing in front of his desk, hands clasped in front of him as he waited for his son's entrance. It didn't take long. Uther heard his heavy footsteps on the hallway before the door was thrown open. The raised voice greeted him almost immediately as Arthur put forwards a very poorly thought out argument for all that reasons why he didn't deserve to have his money taken away from him. His money. Well, that was rather humorous. Uther's son had never worked for a penny in his life, and that was the exact reason why the Pendragon was going ahead with this scheme.
Uther held up a single hand, calling for silence. Arthur broke off his monologue almost at once.
"It's been almost six months since you graduated from Cambridge now, Arthur. And what exactly do you have to show for it?" Uther demanded.
"Lots of things, actually."
"Such as a broken laptop which was thrown through a window when you were angry?" Uther snarled. "No, I'm not relenting on this one. You have to learn your lesson. Money doesn't grow on trees, even for a Pendragon. I didn't earn my millions by sitting at home watching day time television."
"I don't watch day time television," Arthur retorted, even though he was aware that he was losing the battle.
"That is beside the point! You do not work, you do not make money, and therefore you are not deserving of mine." There was silence for a second, Uther glaring at his only son as Arthur stared resolutely at the opposite wall. "You need to learn to earn your own money, and then I will consider re-instating your credit card benefits."
Arthur didn't care too much about that at the moment, though it was a major inconvenience. He was too busy working out how much money he had across various trust funds, set aside for him which were designed to be used in emergencies. This certainly was one.
"I know what you're thinking," Uther proclaimed. "No trust funds, either."
"But father...! You would really see me starve on the street, or live in squalor?"
Uther sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead as he shut his eyes and considered. "Fine, one trust fund, and only one."
Arthur smiled triumphantly. There was at least a million in one of them. He knew from prying on his father's documents several years ago. By now, the interest would have made the sum significantly larger, even though they were supposedly in a recession.
"The smallest one, mind you," Uther added. Arthur's face fell.
"What, that's got to have... a couple of thousand! At the most! How am I meant to live on that?" Arthur demanded, outraged.
"That's the whole point! Haven't you been listening? Honestly, Arthur, this is when you truly learn. If you don't manage this, then I fear I've failed as a parent." There was a brief pause. "You are dismissed."
Arthur remained rooted to the spot, determined to make his father change his mind.
"You are dismissed," Uther repeated, the annoyance in his voice cruel and strong.
Conceding defeat, though not permanently, Arthur left the room. He would go and withdraw the money from whichever trust fund he'd been allocated, no doubt it was being made available to him as he walked, and then he would find money through other means. He didn't know exactly what yet, but it would not involve a regular job. Pendragon's didn't have regular jobs. He'd just have to find another way.
But to start with, he needed a new laptop.