Andrea nodded and said, “no problem Ed.”

  The meeting lasted until lunchtime, by which time they had put an idea of a competition together. They stood around the projector staring at the puzzles they created and nodded. They had decided on a three-stage puzzle. First a riddle related to space to test their ability to think outside of the box and also showed they had some slight knowledge of physics and space. Then a sudoku puzzle to demonstrate they had an ability to think through a problem using basic maths skills but the real test was the third and final puzzle. It was a scenario-based test that would give them an insight into the kind of person that candidate was. They all agreed to run the test by Stan first and then launch it live in a week’s time. Andrea would utilise her contacts in the print media to get it published in a well-known tabloid and broadsheet newspaper and the competition would be launched on the same day on FriendFinder.

  Ed, Tim and Andrea looked exhausted. Ed left at around 1pm and made his way through the gathering press back to his car. While he was being driven back to Dayton Tower, Ed typed out an email on his phone to his board.

  ‘To: Board (10 recipients)

  CC:

  Subject: Competition

  Dear All,

  I am pleased to confirm that following a successful meeting with Andrea Moore at Channel 3 and Tim Sykes, the competition will be ready to launch by Wednesday 16th February 2019. It will be printed in a well-known tabloid and broadsheet as well as on FriendFinder. At this moment in time, they will not know what they are entering for apart from it will be to be on a televised show. Therefore I respectfully ask that you all keep the discussions between us private at this present moment in time. We have had several leaks to the media and I do not wish for anymore.

  I will be in contact more next week about this matter.

  Regards,

  Ed’

  Ed put down his phone and pondered his surroundings while he was travelling through London in the lunchtime rush. He wondered if he had gotten himself in too deep and could not let go, not daring to imagine that he had possibly failed. Ed knew this was the last throw of his career dice and hoped it paid off. Ed never liked being alone with his thoughts, he was too used to being busy. When he was alone with his thoughts, they always turned negative. He remembered how he was after the failed test flight. All he had wanted to do was be alone, but as soon as he was, he felt the waves of anxiety and depression crash over him. He liked being busy and feeling needed. He recalled standing in his office that day and leaning on the glass window half hoping that the glass would fail and he could just drop to the ground.

  He wasn’t sure what he would do if this project failed. He would lose all he had and was used to. The thought disturbed Ed and he knew he had a month to turn his career and ultimately his life around.

  He looked out of the car and up to the sky and wondered if they will make it up there. Ed himself was desperate to go up into space and feel the sensation of looking down on Earth and realising how insignificant we all were in this blue orb we called home. He was desperate to be one of the only people to have seen the moon so close that you can see each crater in detail. Ed considered if this was why he was so desperate for the project to succeed, for his own selfish gain. It wouldn't be beyond the realms of possibility that the only reason he cared for this mission was the fame and the perks it would bring him. Ed shrugged to himself, everyone was out for themselves even if they failed to admit it. He could vaguely see the moon in the blue February sky out of his car window and thought, "See you soon.”

  Part 2 - The Competition

  1.

  Samantha Harrington stared out of the moss-filled, scratched train window to her right-hand side. She watched as the train made its way to Sheffield, zipping past all the usual buildings she saw every day. Samantha always felt like every day she did this journey, it was another day of her life zipping past her with no change. Just the same old journey, every day for what she could only imagine would be for the next thirty years. She wondered if people who drove into work in their flashy cars felt the same depressing thoughts as her or if it was isolated to the few who couldn't afford such luxuries.

  Samantha heard someone on their phone chatting away since she boarded the train, twenty minutes ago. She had glared at her several times but had not been noticed. The girl was in her late teens and quite pretty and clearly had a lot of friends to talk to. Samantha had the sudden urge to sit next to her, grab her head and bash it into the train window with her phone against her ear. Samantha wasn’t sure if that was through sheer frustration that her only moments of peace had been disturbed, or jealousy at how young and full of life the girl was.

  Samantha sighed and carried on looking out of the train window. Through the dark marks on the window, she could just about see the tall buildings of the city and knew she was approaching her destination. It was a lovely day with bright blue sky and sunshine, just the day to be sat outside reading a good book and drinking fine wine, not sat on a stuffy train next to someone who contained many bugs, most of which she would surely get. Samantha could vaguely see her own reflection through the window on the train. She could see her fringe which was almost to her eyes and in desperate need of a trim and she could even see the lines under her eyes. She wasn’t sure if the lines under her eyes were because she was getting old or world-weary, maybe both.

  Samantha looked across as the pretty teen passed her, she overhead her talk about meeting up with friends to do shopping. Samantha could feel herself eyeing her up and down. If anyone didn’t know her any better, they would have thought she was a lesbian but in reality, she was eyeing up her figure, which she could see through the tight leggings that she wore. Samantha thought about a time she had felt that young and beautiful. She was a really promising student at school, getting straight A’s in her classes and had dreams of being an engineer. She was brilliant at maths and loved science. They both were so logical, so methodical unlike her life around her.

  She was pretty with a slim figure and long brown hair. Things had taken a turn for the worse for Samantha when she was just about to do her GCSEs. Samantha still recalled the day that her favourite teacher Mr Bennett had come to collect her from her physics class. He took her across the schoolyard to the reception area where her dad was in tears and with a strange lady she did not know. She had at that moment feared the worse. Her mum was always the one who dealt with her school if need be, her dad had always seemed disinterested in her. Samantha had always thought it was because he’d always wanted a boy. As a result, when Samantha grew up she was a tomboy, always into cars, mechanics and skateboarding. She had never wanted dolls like her other friends and therefore had struggled to fit in at school as a result. Her dad was a miner but after the pits had closed in South Yorkshire, he had struggled to find work and now was a janitor in a local primary school. He clearly hated his job and was forever in a bad mood. Nothing Samantha or her mum could do seemed to cheer him up.

  Samantha knew that if her dad was here, things were bad. He opened his arms and beckoned her towards him. She embraced his hug and felt his tears on the top of her head. The strange lady waited patiently for them to release their embrace.

  “Samantha, my name is Carol and I am a therapist for students here.” She looked up at her with tears in her eyes. “Samantha I am sorry to report that your mother had an accident on her way to work. As she was crossing the road, a driver was blinded by the morning sun and did not see her. She, unfortunately, died at the scene.”

  Samantha stood in shock. For a moment, she could not believe the news she was hearing. She looked up at her dad who nodded and then she felt the waves of emotion roll over her and cried.

  Her dad had never recovered from that day. She wondered if that was because he felt he had lost the only thing he lived for. He did a job he hated, lived with a daughter he didn’t want and had lost the love of his life. He had turned to the bottle that day and had never looked back. She often tried to hide the whiskey bottles from him, but it didn’t stop him. He would just go to the local shop to get some more. She had not just left her mum behind that day but also her youth. She was now a teenager but felt like a carer for her dad. Initially, she had offered to make his dinner to help him over his grief, but that had become a regular occurrence. Now she did all the cleaning and cooking as a result.

  Samantha had still achieved great things in the circumstances, she achieved above-average grades in her GCSEs, but did not excel as much as people had initially expected. At 16 years of age and already feeling like a housewife, Samantha couldn’t wait to getaway. She had tried reasoning with her dad to help her with the chores but got slurred abuse back. The worst time was when she had refused to hoover up. She wanted to go to the cinema with her friends, to feel like a normal teenager, but her dad had refused. She had sneaked out of the house as he slept in a drunken slumber in front of the TV. He was waiting for her when she got back and yelled that her mother would have been ashamed of her. Her immediate response was asking what she would have thought of him now. He had thrown the almost empty Jameson’s bottle and it smashed just behind her head. At that point on she had decided, no more school, no more studying, she needed money to move and fast.

  She had applied for the first job she came across that sounded remotely interesting. It was only a receptionist job, but it was at an engineering firm in Sheffield. Samantha at the time had ambitions of eventually carrying on studying to eventually be recruited by them in an engineering role. However, life took over. She worked the standard nine to five and had moved out as soon as she was able, into her own terraced house in Chesterfield. The rents were cheaper than the inner city and Sheffield was a commutable distance. Between the commute each day and the time she eventually made up for in socialising, studying just never happened. Some fifteen years had gone by and she was still the receptionist at Fleet & Co, a firm of engineers specialising in the large scale commercial developments. Their engineers were commissioned to design major iconic structures the world over. It was the job she had always wanted to do, but now she wasn’t so sure.

  Amongst the many setbacks and the many rebuffed responses she had received when she tried to progress, her career never took off. Through the years of living with her dad, her annoying boss and the constant put-downs, Samantha had lost who she was. That young and ambitious girl was not the girl reflecting back at her. Samantha felt that her soul was as cracked and worn as the train windows she stared out of every day.

  As the train sped towards Sheffield, Samantha gathered her cheap and torn rucksack bag and staggered like a sheep heading towards the pen that was about to be opened. She staggered as the train came to its halt and made the same walk that she did every day to the office where she was based.

  Fleet and Co. were based in Rutland which was a lovely green area in the city but was a pain for Samantha to get to. She made her way across the interchange hiding her face from all the people begging for money she didn’t have and made her way to the bus station. She mounted the bus and plugged in her headphones to listen to tracks from her youth that made her feel like she was still young. Eventually, an hour and ten minutes after leaving the house, Samantha had arrived at her place of work. There was no wonder that she didn’t have the time or the energy to study when it took her just under two and a half hours to get to and from work each day.

  She arrived and set up her work station. She smiled and nodded to her colleague Ruby, who was assisting at the reception desk. Ruby who was in her mid-fifties (but still decided that having red hair was a good look for her) was already ahead of her.

  “Morning darling and how is my young angel?”

  Samantha attempted a half-hearted smile “Managing. How are you, Ruby?” She smiled at Samatha but behind the smile was a hint of maliciousness, the kind where you know that if you let this woman in, she will ruin you.

  “Fine darling. How is that gorgeous man of yours?”

  Samantha feigned a smile and put her coat in the cloakroom and returned. She changed from her scruffy trainers and put on the 3.5inch perfect black heels they insisted all employees wear apart from those with a disability. As she was putting on the most painful shoes on this Earth, she turned her head and looked up at Ruby. “Oh, he is good thank you.”

  If only Ruby knew the truth, she would have a field day with all the gossip about Ryan. Ryan had seemed so perfect. To try and get her life back on track, Samantha had decided to go kickboxing on a Thursday night. When she had first turned up, she had been directed by Ryan into the class. He had seemed so friendly and he was incredibly handsome. At the time he was in his early thirties, a couple of years older than Samantha. He was very keen on his appearance. He had short brown hair, brown eyes and a square jawline. He looked younger than his years and stood tall at around six foot. He was muscular in his arms and on this particular day he wore shorts so you could see his slightly untamed hairy legs which showed his calf muscles that had clearly been worked over the years.

  Samantha had felt an immediate connection. They had laughed throughout the class and he held her back at the end to tell her how well she had done. They had discussed all manner of things over the time, work, their ambitions and dreams. Samantha had not felt so strongly for a man before and fell in love incredibly quickly. They went on a few dates, to the cinema and out for meals. Each date ended up the same, in a steamy embrace back at her place. The sex was incredible, he was as well endowed as his physique would suggest.

  They always went back to her place, that should have been the sign. She was in over her head to take any notice. One day while Ryan was in the shower after a particularly passionate encounter, she had heard his phone go. She picked it up and looked at the caller ID and saw a woman called Alice had called. She had gone across to the shower to pass him the phone. On the mention of Alice, he had immediately become shifty asking why she had been looking at his phone and that she had no right to snoop. That was the first time she became truly suspicious. It turned out that Alice was his wife and had been for a long time.

  Ryan had always insisted he would leave Alice, but the excuses never materialised and eventually, no excuses became forthcoming, Ryan after a while no longer even offered a justification. She had accepted that she was the other woman in this ridiculous love triangle. Deep in her heart, Samantha had always known that it was wrong, she had never met Alice and never wanted to. She dreaded the day it happened because she felt she could never justify her actions.

  The truth of it was beyond the fact that she loved Ryan, it had now become the fact that she did not feel that she truly deserved any better. Ryan had slowly accepted that fact and slowly he had reduced their days together. They used to spend three or four nights a week together but Ryan had informed her that Alice was growing suspicious and so it had decreased to three nights and now to just Thursday nights and occasionally a weekend.

  Samantha knew that Ruby probably knew what was going on, as she never met him at the works drinks and he never met her after work. However, Samantha was sensible enough to know not to mention anything to anyone and as a result, she hadn’t. Even her FriendFrinder page still showed her as single even though for the last 4 years she hadn’t viewed herself that way. Just as Samantha picked her head up from putting on her shoes, her boss Andy walked past.

  “Samantha, can I see you for a moment?”

  Andy was in his late forties but still kept himself well-groomed. He was wearing a clearly expensive dark blue suit and gave the impression that he felt he was better than everyone else. She replied with a fake smile, “of course Mr Turner.”

  She dusted her outfit down and walked around the red reception desk to the offices behind. On her way, she glanced at Ruby who smiled and mouthed the words “good luck”. She wasn’t sure if that was sarcastic or genuine, she could never tell with Ruby. She walked down the corridor to his office which was the biggest office in the building. He had even gone to the effort of having a plaque at the front of his desk so everyone knew who he was, not that people didn’t anyway.

  He stood behind his desk. “Samantha, we have had a report that you turned up to work on Monday smelling of alcohol. It was noticed by one of our suppliers and brought to my attention. Can you please let me know your response to this accusation?”

  Samantha felt her face flush and suddenly felt very exposed. She shifted her weight between her feet feeling like a naughty schoolgirl in the headteacher's office. “I’d had a drink on Sunday night but nothing major, certainly not to the extent that it affected my work in any way. I certainly didn’t have anything to drink before work.”

  Andy walked over to her and sat on the corner of his desk with one leg over the desk and the other just about touching the floor revealing his red socks underneath his suit. “Well, it has happened a couple of times Samantha. If you are having problems at home, you must let us know. We can help but if we don’t know we can’t”. He walked across to her and put his hand on her shoulder and looked in her eyes. “Is everything OK?”

  She looked away in a shifty manner and tried her best to maintain genuine eye contact. “Everything is fine.”

  He looked at her for a few seconds which made her feel even smaller than she already did. “Ok then. Well, this is your final warning Samantha. It can’t happen again.”

  She shrugged her shoulders to get away from his grasp and walked towards the door. “It won’t Mr Turner. Thank you. '' In her mind, she swore at him and called him an obnoxious prick and walked away. It made her feel slightly better but not by much.

  In reality, Samantha deep down knew that she might have developed a problem. She thought sarcastically how her dad would be proud, she had grown up to be just like him after all. She had started by having a couple of glasses at the weekend. Much like drugs, the more regular that became, the longer it didn’t have the same effect. She had slowly drank more and more until she found she was drinking a bottle of wine most nights to just feel that dizziness of her problems going away. She had developed techniques to disguise the effects the following day. A good slap of make-up each morning particularly around the eyes to disguise the dark patches and a strong mouthwash seemed to help. It seemed to numb the feeling of loneliness and the despair of life.

 

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