Chapter 11
Spike sat in Czar's café, his mind racing. After the email bombshell had been dropped on the whole office, he had immediately gone to her office door which was locked. Repeated knockings had yielded no answer, nor had constant phone calls. It seemed Lynda had sealed herself off from the whole world. Spike flipped open his mobile phone and dialled the office again.
"Good afternoon, Phoenix magazine, Sophie speaking! How can I . . ."
"It's Spike, Sophie."
"Spike, she's still not answering. She's diverted to voicemail."
"What?" Spike was in disbelief. "She can barely dial an outside number unaided and now she's managed to divert her line?"
"She's been in there a while, Spike," replied Sophie. "Maybe she's been reading the manual."
Spike grunted. "Just let me know if she surfaces, will you?"
"Sure, Spike. See you."
Spike replaced the phone in the pocket of his leather jacket and moodily slurped at his Coke.
"Thought I'd find you here," said Frazz, slipping into his booth. "Though why you don't go to the pub when you're actually legal to drink there now, I don't know."
"Old habits are hard to break," admitted Spike.
"Yeah. Like Lynda's more likely to come here than go to the pub," observed Frazz.
"Maybe I knew that, subconsciously," said Spike wryly. "Frazz, this is crazy. I could be a dad and I don't even know if I should be over the moon or devastated about it! I'm going crazy here! The last time I felt like this was when my father died. Now I have someone to actually share the whole deal with and she won't even talk to me!"
"She says to meet her at her place," replied Frazz conversationally.
"She what?" Spike choked.
"She says to meet her at her place," repeated Frazz.
"How do you – when did . . ." Spike was still struggling with the Winter Palace which had gone down the wrong way.
"Spike, I thought you knew. She's got a back way out of her office, like Colin used to have. Maybe she likes to have a choice of exits. You know, since the fire and all."
Spike had already vaulted out of the grubby booth and was halfway out the door.
"Thanks, Frazz!" he called as the bell jangled to signal his departure.
"No problem," replied Frazz to himself.
Frazz's position on the new magazine had also changed. He had been promoted to head up the Sports department which was exciting but also a little daunting. Frazz wasn't sure if he liked the responsibility, or if he enjoyed being in charge of people.
"I should really get back to the office and get some work done," he thought and jangled the spare change in his pocket. He loved how Czar's had kept all the old arcade games. Although knowing Czar, he probably wasn't going for the retro angle but was just too stingy to upgrade to an internet café.
"A couple of games won't hurt," he said aloud, plugging a few coins into his old nemesis Isis. "After all, it's a game, isn't it? Sports-related in a way. Just a few games. See if I can get FRZ back on the old high score board."