Read What I Tell You In the Dark for Free Online Page A

she’s saying. There’s a problem with the tiny men. A few minutes ago, they were in the process of guiding into place two girders, right on the top of the structure, but now they’ve stopped midway through and left the I-beams hoisted at an angle across each other. The sun is firing them from behind, catching the hard flashing edges.
    It’s a perfect crucifix, flat against the sky.
    A message from His faithful retainers, of course – some little poodle of His, busily arranging the landscape. There’s nothing they love more than a bit of good old-fashioned censure.
    But why does it have to get so bloody personal? I mean, okay, fine – I get it: I shouldn’t be here. I understand that. But you’d think that after all this time they might let up a bit. But oh no, they just can’t help themselves. They never miss an opportunity to taunt me with that thing. And yes, I do know how that sounds, by the way. But you’ll have to trust me on this, it is them. I know a sign when I see one.
    It must be driving them crazy, me being down here, but He’s obviously not too concerned about it. If He was I wouldn’t even be sitting here. He’d have just delved in and squashed this. He could even cast me out if He had a mind to. But He hasn’t. And not because He’s not keeping an eye on things either – I mean, come on, it’s me : of course He’s got wind of it. Even a recluse like Him will have heard the news that I’m off the reservation again. Anyway, they’ll have made sure He knows, you can count on that. Every last detail.
    No, I think He’s waiting, and watching. I think He’s actually quite intrigued to see if I can pull this off. He’s the big picture type, not like those hateful minions of His. They’re just petty and spiteful – they’re never going to let me forget what happened.
    No one holds a grudge quite like a servant. The greatest snobs of all.
    â€˜Yeah well, they’ll have to do better than that!’ These words actually come out of my mouth as I spring to my feet.
    Karen emits a tiny squeal. Any pretence of concern for my wellbeing vanishes from her face. She is now looking at me with all the fear and surprise of one who is alone with a lunatic. And no doubt I did give her a bit of a shock, but even so, that’s just rude.
    Whatever. I have far more important things to be thinking about. I need to get to Will’s desk before one of thosemeddlesome idiots thinks to look underneath it, if they haven’t already.
    I look calmly down at her and apologise for my sudden movements.
    â€˜I need to get going,’ I tell her, heading for the door.
    She looks like she might be about to start with some more of her HR drivel so I toss in a little parting speech, about the persecutory behaviour I’ve been victim to today. It hits all the sweet spots with phrases like ‘singled out’ and ‘discriminatory’. I even stretch to a few rhetorical questions, as if I am standing there in all my tragedy before a tribunal of hungry employment lawyers.
    She looks massively uncomfortable.
    â€˜Stress is not a stigma,’ I warn her.
    She musters a halfway compassionate smile.
    â€˜No one’s singling you out, Will.’ She seems to think about putting her hand on my elbow again but can’t quite bring herself to do it. ‘We’re just worried about you,’ she simpers.
    That same smile blinks on and off again in her face.
    â€˜So you should be,’ I tell her gravely. ‘So you should be.’
    Right then, back down the silent corridor I go, and back down the stairs, two at a time. My hand slaps the railing, my heels click out an echoing canter.
    This time when I arrive at Will’s desk, I don’t waste any effort trying to look the part. The IT guy seems to have gone, so I just squat down and start groping around underneath the desk, where, to my immense relief, my