Chapter 10: Troubleshooting 3

“Where do you want to eat tonight?” I asked, once we were safely in Chemmy’s car.

“There’s a French restaurant on the outskirts of town that I’ve always wanted to try. It’s a bit pricey and it’s usually busy but this weather might have kept the numbers down,” suggested Chemmy.

“French it is then. I’ve never had French before so you’ll have to choose for me.”

“Okay. I won’t choose anything questionable for you, like escargots or steak tartare.”

The rain had eased off considerably by the time we reached the restaurant and Chemmy was able to park near the entrance so we decided not to risk the embarrassment of going inside carrying a pub parasol.

When we went in I felt underdressed. Most of the meagre quantity of diners wore suits and other finery, whereas I was wearing my comfortable work clothes and Chemmy her security uniform.

The restaurant host wore a very smart suit and even I could tell he was less than impressed with us. “Do you have a booking?” he asked.

“No,” admitted Chemmy. “Do you have a table for two available?”

“Let me check for you,” said the host. He checked his register of bookings and frowned. But when he turned to break the bad news to us, he seemed to belatedly recognise Chemmy’s uniform and smiled. “You work for CornerStone Secure Services?” he asked.

“I work for their internal security,” said Chemmy. “My colleague is a high-flying troubleshooter on a week’s loan from elsewhere in the company.”

“In that case, I’m sure we can accommodate you without a booking. And I’ll ensure the 10% Cornerstone discount is applied to your bill. Please wait here and I’ll fetch a waiter to seat you.” Then the host disappeared through a ‘Staff Only’ door.

“That was weird,” said Chemmy. “The way he looked at us, I felt sure he was going to say they were fully booked up.”

“Do you want to leave and find somewhere else less judgmental?” I asked.

“Hell no. I’ve wanted to try this for some time but I didn’t have the courage to come on my own. And a 10% discount as well!”

A waiter came out of the staff door and led us to a table, not in the middle of the restaurant but not by the toilets either. Chemmy ordered for both of us - Cassoulet for me and Boeuf Bourguignon for herself, both accompanied by Dauphinoise Potatoes.

“What would you like to drink?” asked the waiter.

“Shall we share a bottle of wine?” Chemmy asked me.

“No alcohol for me. I have a low tolerance for it.”

I had a glass of sparkling mineral water and Chemmy settled for a glass of house red.

My main course turned out to be almost a complete meal in a bowl. The primary meat was duck but there were chunks of other, less recognisable meats mixed in with a variety of white beans and other vegetables. My meal seemed very decadent and wasn’t something I would want to eat every day, but, as a one-off, it was a memorable experience. Chemmy enjoyed her meal too, and on sampling each other’s meals we agreed she’d made two fine choices.

Afterwards I settled the bill, noting that even with the Cornerstone discount, the cost of our meal was more than that of the two previous evenings combined. I hoped Heidi Summerville wouldn’t object.

The rain had stopped when we left, so we didn’t have to hurry to escape the rain. Chemmy drove us back to her flat, made coffee for both of us, then settled down in front of the TV to watch the news.

I took out Chemmy’s paperback and started to read. To my surprise it wasn’t a straight romance but a strange mix of detective story and chick-lit. I found it an easy story to get engrossed in and raced through it.

When I finished it, I looked up and found Chemmy had half an eye on the post-news talking heads program and half an eye on me.

“That was weird, wasn’t it,” said Chemmy. “It was in the romance section at the charity shop but they must have misfiled it.”

“I liked the detective story thread and the chick-lit angle was tolerable but the mixture seemed uncomfortable,” I admitted.

We agreed it was time for bed. Chemmy let me use the bathroom first again. As I was dropping off to sleep while waiting for her to join me, I felt relieved that I had only two more days to get through before I could return to normality. I regretted being out of contact with Jardine in case the girls had come up with plausible insights into Amanda Barratt’s behaviour, but I didn’t feel comfortable calling her from Chemmy’s flat. I also regretted that Samine Ashrief wouldn’t be able to contact me if she wanted to arrange our squash rematch. On the other hand I was probably better off not hearing from Rolf Magnusson in case there were any more nasty surprises in the pipeline like an extension to my secondment.

The last thing I remember before falling asleep was the bed moving as Chemmy climbed in beside but separate from me.

I woke first and found Chemmy once again cuddled up to me. My watch said half past eight. No way was Chemmy going to get to work for nine o’clock, so she would no doubt incur further hostility from her ex-supervisor.

Chemmy hadn’t woken up when I looked at the time so I was faced with a completely new dilemma - how to wake her without alarming her. Since Chemmy’s arm was draped over me, I gently stroked her hand.

Chemmy’s other hand arrived and slapped my hand hard, then she woke up while the sound of the slap was still echoing round the room.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry,” she said. “My subconscious must have thought something was crawling on me.”

“No harm done,” I said, although the back of my hand was still stinging. “It’s half past eight and thought you might want to be woken.”

“Shit shit shit,” said Chemmy. “I’m going to be late.”

“No you aren’t. You’re keeping to my hours, remember? And we worked till have past eight last night.”

“You’re right,” she acceded, before belatedly untangling herself from me.

We followed our established routine, although I got another strange look from Chemmy when I had toast and honey for breakfast yet again.

The weather was the complete opposite to the previous day. Although there were still a few puddles around, testament to the previous day’s downpour, the sun was hot and bright in the cloudless sky. Chemmy drove to work with her car windows wound down.

Clive was on duty again, so I signed out from the previous evening then back in again with a minimum of fuss. After a trip to the unisex toilets, Chemmy left me in our office to continue working on the listings while she went to check in and raid the decent coffee.

There were fewer listings than specs because the system was at the prototype stage and not all modules had been completed. Often I was able to work though the listings quite quickly because I could remember what they were supposed to do, but other listings slowed me down because I had to cross-check the code with the specs and with other listings.

Chemmy returned with the coffees quite soon.

“Any problems?” I asked.

“They haven’t been able to diagnose the problem yet. Mrs Findlay reckons if they don’t find it tomorrow, they’ll have to eat crow and cancel next Monday’s demo. And that could be disastrous for the whole project.”

“That’s what Rolf Magnusson told me,” I said, nodding.

“You’re on first name terms with Rolf Magnusson? When he visits this office it’s normally to wield a big stick,” said Chemmy. “And in further news, or not really news, the arsehole gave me a nasty glare when he saw me arrive late.”

“Rolf Magnusson and Christina Altropolina gave me another chance after I sucked at my initial interview. They reckoned my Asperger’s could be turned into an asset. Mr Magnusson has maintained a personal interest in my career ever since.”

“it’s worked well enough for them to have the confidence to send you here as a troubleshooter.”

“Well I’m firing blanks at the moment,” I admitted.

I settled back down with the listings and my coffee while Chemmy resumed reading her recycled paperback book collection.

After I finished working through a particularly tortuous module, I pushed the listing aside and sighed. “I could do with a break. Are you ready for lunch yet?” I asked Chemmy.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, looking up from her current book then dog-earing the page. “It’s half past two. Do you fancy some sun? There’s a park quite close with a sandwich shop right next to it. They do steak sandwiches with all the trimmings.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said, remembering Mrs Fairbairn’s advice to consider trying something new if recommended by someone I trusted.

Barry was on duty when we left so there were no complications. Chemmy said the park was about a third of a mile away so we walked it, getting to the sandwich shop in ten minutes.

I hadn’t know what to expect but after Chemmy ordered our steak sandwiches, they cooked the steak in front of us. We were soon in the park and, because the peak lunch time was over, we were fortunate enough to find a vacant seat in the shade of a tree. Neither of us was wearing a hat and the sun was beating down quite strongly.

The steak sandwich was excellent, the still-warm steak complementing the cool salad and condiments.

Barry was still on duty so signing back in wasn’t a problem. After I’d drained my tank in a unisex toilet, Chemmy escorted me back to my place of incarceration.

Before she left to fetch good coffee, I said, “I reckon I’ll finish going through the listings sometime tomorrow morning. Please could you ask Mrs Findlay to have this computer working for tomorrow morning with the CornerStone prototype installed and all diagnostics enabled. I know I’m prohibited from access to any Ministry of Defence data but there are a few things I want to check.”

“Could you write that down for me?” asked Chemmy. “I’m not a techie and I’m not sure I can remember that correctly.”

I wrote down my request and Chemmy took it with her when she went for the coffee.

When Chemmy returned, she said, “Mrs Findlay will arrange what you asked for. She said it’s a good thing you gave her notice. The computer will have to be standalone with no network access in order to protect the Ministry of Defence data.”

“Sensible,” I agreed, although not necessarily from the objective of diagnosing the problem.

I immersed myself back in the listings, reviewing code against spec and related code, with occasional trips to the toilet and fresh coffee. I had just finished checking an almost impenetrable piece of code when when Chemmy cleared her throat.

“Are you thinking of finishing any time soon?” she asked, now that she had my attention.

I realised she’d been watching me rather than reading, waiting for an opportune moment to interrupt.

“Actually, I’ve just reached a good place to finish for the day,” I admitted.

“Good,” said Chemmy. “It’s quarter to nine.”

I tidied the desk so it wouldn’t be obvious what I had been working on, then we left. Chemmy waved at the CCTV again on our way out.

“Where would you like to eat tonight?” I asked, as Chemmy started her car.

“We haven’t been to an Indian restaurant yet. There’s one not too far from here I’d like to try.”

At least the restaurant host didn’t look askant at our attire. Chemmy ordered a lamb curry for me and a chicken curry for herself. Both dishes were delicious and full of flavour.

Back at Chemmy’s flat, I added the day’s receipts to my collection. While Chemmy watched the news, I read another of her romance paperbacks. Frankly it sucked. It had a historical setting, and the author seemed to have been trying to box tick as many romance cliches as possible.

When we went to bed, I felt relieved I had only one more day to go, unless Rolf Magnusson or Christina Altropolina contacted me with another request. I felt safe from Ms Altropolina, I couldn’t imagine her doing something like that to me. Rolf Magnusson was a different kettle of fish.

Next morning I woke at eight, early enough for Chemmy to get into work on time. I opted to gently lift the arm that was draped over me and it had the desired effect, Chemmy waking without slapping me. However she took longer than the previous day to disentangle herself.