7 Mr Stone

7 Mr Stone

The sound of Mum's office door slamming woke Peanut from her daydream with a jolt. A very handsome, very short man wearing a black suit, a black shirt, black shoes and a black tie covered with very, very, very dark grey polka dots strode confidently into the room. When he spoke, his voice was much higher than Peanut had expected it to be. ' Tracey darling, how are you getting on with that report summarising your investigation into the possible VAT carousel fraud involving Globetown Limited? I need to get Blood's eyes on it first thing in the morning. Since starting at St Hubert's, Peanut was getting used to hearing sentences that made absolutely no sense whatsoever, but this one was on another level. What in the name of Mary Poppins is 'carousel fraud'? she thought. Maybe somebody was attempting to con fairground-goers by passing off a roundabout as a merry-go-round. 'Nearly there, Milton,' said Mum In a strange voice that Peanut didn't recognise. 'I just need to give it a final read-through overnight.

Ah. And who might this be?' The man turned to face Peanut, and the perfumed pomade in his slicked-back hair reflected the flickering light from the Game of Thrones chandelier. He looked her up and down with his pale grey eyes. 'Oh. This is my daughter, Pea—Er, Pernilla. Pernilla, this is Milton Stone. My boss.' Peanut knew all about Milton Stone. She knew that he had been at university with Mum twenty years earlier. She knew they had studied maths together. She also suspected that he had plans for a romantic relationship with Mum now that Dad was out of the picture. Why else would he have called her 'darling'? The thought of that happening made her feel physically sick. 'Pernilla? Great name.' His high voice was as oily as his hair. And I see you've been doodling on one of our legal pads. Budding artist, eh?' 'Sort of,' grunted Peanut. She was still reeling from him calling her mum darling and the whole Pernilla thing. I'll just run and get the printouts of the report,' said Mum, as she hurried out of the room towards one of the glass cubes down the corridor. Stone glanced at Nerys, who was busy scribbling something on yet another Post-it note, and then turned back to Peanut. He snatched the legal pad from her, tore off the piece of paper that she had drawn on, screwed it up and threw it in the bin.

'Little girl, please refrain from wasting the pages of my legal pads by populating them with your scribblings,' he snarled. 'Paper doesn't grow on trees, you know! And my team needs these pads for real work. Mum returned to the room, and Stone's manner changed instantly. ' Charming child, Tracey. Utterly charming. And what vivid red hair. Very striking. Mum looked surprised. ' Er, what a nice thing to say. Say thank you to Mr Stone, Pea—Er, Pernilla. Peanut was silent, partly because she was reeling from the second Pernilla. 'Pernilla! What do you say...?' hissed Mum. ' Thanks,' she muttered. 'Not at all.' Stone grinned. 'Not at all. Tracey, I'll look forward to seeing that report on my desk at nine a.m. tomorrow morning. Thanks awfully, darling. And with that he left the office and marched off down the glass corridor. Peanut stared after him. Actually, paper does grow on trees,' she whispered.