Dark Undertakings by Rebecca Tope Page A

right. I’ve got to press on with these party invitations, regardless. Can’t say tothe customer, “Sorry, we missed your deadline because the boss died.”’ He laughed at the idea.
    ‘Well, I think you can ,’ said Jodie. ‘I mean, what better reason could there be?’
    ‘Makes no sense,’ Ajash looked at her with resolution. ‘It’s a bad show about Jim, don’t get me wrong. But this work won’t wait. You know that. If we get on with it this week, work late, maybe, then we can make a proper gesture next week. We’ll all go to the funeral together.’
    ‘I still can’t believe it,’ Jodie said, for the tenth time. ‘Remember how cheerful he was on Monday afternoon? Laughing and joking. I thought he must have been high on something, he was in such a good mood.’
    ‘Probably been off with one of his lady friends,’ commented Jack, looking hard at her. ‘Better not go round saying that about taking stuff, either. Not even as a joke. Not now he’s dead.’ Jack had a hungry look about him, which Jodie had long ago realised meant nothing. He was habitually unsmiling, his features all inclined to turn downwards, and any shreds of humour he might possess were invariably couched in satire or personal jibes. Even when he tried to be kind, the most he could manage was a crooked kind of sympathy. Yet he and Jim had been good friends.
    Jodie shrugged. ‘I’m not likely to, am I?’ Shereturned his hard look, challenging him to say more.
    ‘Come on,’ urged Ajash. ‘There’s work to be done.’ Jodie jabbed him with a bony forefinger and he skipped backwards, with a muffled squeal.
    ‘Come on, you two!’ Jack growled. ‘This is no time for horseplay. You’re behaving like kids.’
    ‘When’s Justin going to honour us with his company?’ Ajash said. ‘Doesn’t he know when he’s needed?’
    ‘Don’t know what use you think he’s going to be,’ grumbled Jack. ‘All public relations and high-powered marketing, and can’t tell DocuTech from litho, half the time. This place’ll soon fall apart without Jim unless the management pull their finger out.’
    Jodie looked down her nose at him. ‘Don’t give us that,’ she scorned. ‘They’ll put you in the hot seat, and take someone else on. Though we all know who it won’t be.’
    Ajash gave a snorting laugh. ‘Young David, you mean,’ he said, nodding knowingly. ‘Jim put the kybosh on that idea, sure enough.’
    Jack turned away, without replying. Jodie looked from him to Ajash, and back again. ‘More fool him,’ she said softly.
    For a while, they worked in an uncomfortable silence, the whirring of Ajash’s printing pressa familiar presence. But Jodie couldn’t keep quiet for long. ‘I can’t just go on as if nothing’s happened,’ she burst out. ‘Jim’s dead .’ She stared wide-eyed at Jack.
    ‘Come on, Jode,’ he reproached her. ‘It’s not like you to lose your bottle.’
    ‘I haven’t lost my bottle. It’s just – oh, I can’t get it out of my mind. I mean, Jim’s the last person you’d expect to go like that.’
    ‘That’s rubbish,’ said Jack, fiercely. ‘Who would you expect it to happen to then? It isn’t something you ever expect . Things happen.’
    ‘Oh, you men,’ Jodie huffed. ‘You’ll never let yourselves have any feelings; never talk about what really matters.’
    ‘Get away with you.’ Jack’s anger was barely under control. ‘Don’t give us that. There’s things about nice Mr Lapsford you’d be shocked to discover, if some of us men chose to start talking.’
    ‘Shut up!’ Ajash shouted, from where he’d returned to watch over his whirling press. ‘I heard that. Just you shut up, Jack Merryfield. You’ll be sorry if I hear you speaking ill of the dead like that again.’
    ‘Silly old fool,’ muttered Jack, and threw himself down in front of one of the monitors, hammering murderously at the keyboard.
    * * *
    Doctor Lloyd’s last patient left morning surgery at ten-thirty. He