Matt Whyman - The Savages

‘Amanda,’ said one young man in the front row, when she invited questions from the audience. ‘Are you saying it’s OK to kill meat eaters?’

Amanda smiled sweetly, as if she’d just been asked where her dress came from.

‘I am simply sharing my thoughts, and hoping to… connect, influence, inform and engage .’

Jack turned and nodded his approval to Sasha. She waited for him to face the stage once more before shaking her head. It was a shame this girl had been invited to speak. The evening didn’t need this pretentious nonsense, from someone who looked incapable of killing an unwanted call let alone a human being. Worst of all, it appeared as if Jack was hanging on every word she uttered.

‘There’ll be a few minutes before the next talk,’ whispered Sasha, when Amanda finally finished to a flutter of applause. ‘I’ll get us something to eat.’

‘You do that,’ said Jack, who rose to his feet at the same time as Sasha. ‘Just make mine vegan.’

‘Really?’ Sasha glanced across at the podium, unsure if he had just said that very loudly so somebody else could hear him. Even Jack couldn’t resist a quick look, but Amanda was busy collecting her papers from the lectern.

‘This is it for me,’ he said, when Sasha returned her attention to him. ‘There’s no going back now. After listening to Amanda, it seems to me we need to stand up for what we believe in.’

Sasha furrowed her brow. From experience, he just didn’t look the sort.

‘Jack, you’d never take a life.’

He seemed to think about this for a moment, before looking a little embarrassed.

‘I tell you what I could murder, though,’ he said, gesturing at a table of food and drink. ‘A slice of that chestnut bake.’

Leaving Jack to clamber over seats to the floor, Sasha made her way towards the end of the row. Most people looked a little older than her, but Sasha didn’t feel intimidated. Nor was she starving hungry, as she had been after her first few days of vegetarian eating. She was still surprised by how understanding her mother had been. Rather than simply serve up a supper minus the meat product, she had created alternatives just for Sasha. The chard and cheddar bake was nice, even if it had been the first time that Angelica attempted such a creation. It had even proven to be quite filling, which obliged them both to seek out a hidden space at the back of the freezer to keep what was left for another day.

Many people in the auditorium had already headed for the refreshment tables, where a small queue was forming. Sasha lined up with her arms folded and looked to her feet. The guy in front of her was wearing scuffed leather shoes, she noticed, which seemed a bit rebellious in this kind of company. She was just mulling over what Amanda Dias would have to say about that when she noticed them rotate to one side a little. She looked up, to find the young man was grinning at her.

‘Is it wrong to be disappointed knowing that there’s no bacon butty waiting for me at the front of this line?’

Sasha blinked in surprise, laughed and then touched her fingertips to her lips. The guy wasn’t much older than her. He was as scruffy as his shoes, wearing a hoodie, T-shirt and jeans as well as several days of stubble on a square-set face.

‘It would be wrong,’ she said eventually, keeping her voice low. ‘But I know just what you mean. I feel I’m queuing up to be disappointed here.’

The guy’s smile broadened.

‘That speaker,’ he said, and nodded towards the stage. ‘Is she for real?’

‘Someone thinks so,’ replied Sasha under her breath. ‘Between you and me, halfway through I wished I had a bag of Frazzles I could quietly flick at her.’

The guy held her gaze, still beaming broadly.

‘I’m Ralph,’ he said, and shook her hand. ‘It’s been eight weeks since I last ate meat, and the whole bacon thing is driving me to distraction.’

‘The crack cocaine of the meat industry,’ agreed Sasha. ‘What turned you?’

‘It felt like something I wanted to do,’ he said simply. ‘But I know what you mean about the whole food fascism thing. Every time I hear someone like Amanda preach that meat is murder I want to go out and buy a burger. I just don’t understand why being vegetarian makes you any better than anyone else. What’s with the big statements? It’s just a choice, in a free society. I think so long as you know where your food’s coming from, and you’re happy with that, then you should be able to live your life without being judged. How about you?’

Sasha found herself listening so closely to what Ralph had to say that a moment passed before she registered her question.

‘Me? Oh, I’m just going without meat for a while. I just want to see what it’s like.’

‘And how is it going?’

Across the floor, Jack Greenway had finally muscled into a conversation between Amanda Dias and the alcoholic cook. He was nodding furiously, switching his attention from one to the other, but mostly returning to Amanda. Sasha looked back at Ralph. He was next in line to be served.

‘I’ve surprised myself so far,’ she said. ‘But it’s good to know I’m not alone in facing moments of temptation.’

Ralph seemed a little taken aback at this. Then that smile returned, before he turned to face the table. It left Sasha wondering whether she’d just said something, and then realised that she had. Before she could find a way to explain that she hadn’t just tried to score on him, Ralph moved aside for her.

‘Some of this stuff looks good,’ he said, and then dipped down to find her ear. ‘And a lot of it looks like squirrel bait.’

Giggling, and with her cheeks still hot, Sasha decided to say nothing. Instead, she picked off a slice of the bake for Jack, skipping one for herself, and then collected two plastic cups of cola.

‘Are these drinks vegan?’ she asked him.

Ralph shrugged.

‘Even if they aren’t,’ he said under his breath. ‘It can be our secret if you like.’

Vernon English had slumped so far down in the driving seat that he could no longer see over the dash. He’d done so on purpose, just as soon as Titus Savage strode into view. Waiting for his target to cross the street in front of the vehicle, on his way to the lobby in the building opposite, the private investigator couldn’t help noticing that the lower half of the steering wheel was mottled with his greasy fingerprints

‘That’s it,’ he said to himself. ‘No more chips in the van.’

Vernon had been expecting Titus. Having tailed the man for weeks now, and with an ear inside his house, he knew that today would see the takeover completed. It was all over for the company who had hired Vernon. Sure, he could’ve presented them with some evidence that Titus had engaged in corporate crimes, but what would that achieve? The company would call in the cops, and if the Savage house hid secrets about Lulabelle Hart then Vernon would just be a footnote in the story of his arrest. By staying quiet as Titus broke up the company and sold it off, the private investigator would be sacrificing his full fee. What persuaded him to just keep on the man’s tail was the belief that one day soon they would both be making headlines. While photographers tried to snatch a shot of Titus through the window of a speeding police van, Vernon would be giving lengthy interviews to the broadsheets about how his intuition and persistence had paid off.

‘There’s blood on your hands,’ he said, grunting as he sat up in the seat. Across the street, Titus had entered the lobby. He was there as the company’s new boss. The lion had arrived at his new den, and Vernon knew just what would happen next. The man wasn’t there to save the business but carve it up and toss out the parts for profit. Vernon had seen it all before. Normally, these guys, the asset strippers, were cold-hearted individuals. Some even got a kick from the misery they caused. Titus was different, however. At home, he made every effort to spend time with Angelica and their children. Through Vernon’s eyes, and with his suspicions, there was something about the guy that he was missing. Somewhere, a link existed between the beast in the boardroom and the father who put family first.