Accountants Revenge

 

“Steve, why haven’t you finished the spreadsheet I asked for? I need it” Trevor’s voice echoed through the virtually empty building.  Steve spun around and saw his boss standing in the doorway, looking both angry and bored at the same time.

“I’m working on something for Ian, he said it was priority for a meeting tomorrow?” 

“You don’t work for Ian; you work for me.  Next time he asks for something you send him to me.”

“Umm, OK” Steve could just imagine how well that would go down.  “I’ve almost finished now; I’ll stay late and finish your spreadsheet before I go.”

“Good, you can lock up can’t you, I have a dinner date” Trevor pulled his coat on and left the building.  Another late night then, fantastic.  That was the third time in a month he had been home after dark, and it was getting to be a habit.  Not that Steve really minded, he enjoyed his work and being alone in the office allowed him to get on with things without interruptions.  Besides, it wasn’t like there was much to go home for, the microwave wasn’t going to miss him.  But he really did need a break, he hadn’t had a day off for months and every time he mentioned it to Trevor, he just got the same pained expression and a promise to sort something once the current deal was done.  But there was always something else.

There was a time when Steve had worked until six and then been home in time for dinner and a nice evening in with Becky.  They had enough money to pay the bills, and still some left over for luxuries.  Everything had been rosy in their world.  Then Michael Dunwoody left and was replaced by a new exec from head office, Trevor Alcott.  Trevor was ambitious, successful and a bully.  He got what he wanted by riding roughshod over anyone who got in his way, and he didn’t care who got hurt.  At first Steve had argued with Trevor, stood his ground, and tried to carry on as before, but Trevor just ignored him.  He was expected to do exactly what Trevor wanted, when he wanted and so what if Steve missed dinner a few times or had to cancel a weekend away for Becky’s birthday.  So long as Trevor got what he wanted.

At precisely nine forty-five Steve pulled into his driveway and stumbled out of the car.  The world seemed a little blurred, either he was losing his eyesight, or another migraine was on its way.  Struggling with the key he finally made it though the front door and into the downstairs bathroom just as he threw up.  Maybe skip dinner tonight then.

The sun shone through the curtains filling his room with its brilliance as the alarm went off, bringing Steve back to the land of the living.  He’d had the dream again.  The one with the sword, and the decapitated body of his boss laying at his feet.  He was sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with that one, so probably best to keep it to himself.  After missing out on food the night before Steve was starving so decided on bacon, sausage, and eggs for breakfast.  Not exactly the healthiest meal he had eaten but it would keep him going.  He looked at the clock as he tucked into his repast.  Five forty-five.  Who eats breakfast at that time of the morning? 

By 7am he was sat at his desk on his fourth coffee wading through emails when Trevor breezed in.

“Steve, these figures aren’t right they can’t be”

“Well, it’s based on what we discussed last week”

“Did you include the contract from Dellaway?”

“No, you told me not to.  You said it wasn’t going to happen anyway” Steve knew what was coming next before Trevor opened his mouth.

“Oh, for God’s Sake Steve, you know the deal is happening, can’t you get anything right?  I swear you are the worst accountant I’ve ever had to work with.  Do it again and include the right figures this time.”

Steve could feel his face flushing and the vein in his neck starting to throb.  Still there was no point getting angry about it, Trevor didn’t really understand other people’s feelings anyway.  He turned back to his computer, clicked a few buttons, and opened up the spreadsheet to make the amendments.  Just as the phone rang.

“Steve?  Its Ian.  Thanks for that report yesterday but I need to make some changes.”

“Sorry Ian, I have to refer you to Trevor, he said all requests for my time need to go through him”

Ian hung up abruptly.  Well, that was never going to go well, he could feel today wasn’t going to be any better than yesterday.

Ten minutes later Steve was standing in front of Trevor’s desk having been summoned.  The director’s office was much bigger than his own and had a faint smell of tobacco everywhere.  Pictures on the wall depicting hunting, shooting, and fishing had been there when Michael was in charge, Trevor hadn’t bothered to personalise his office in any way, Steve thought that was down to Trevor’s lack of any discernible personality. 

“Why did you tell Ian to ring me?  Can’t you answer for yourself? I’m not your nursemaid”

“You told me to refer him to you if he asked for anything else” Steve’s frustration was rising, anger taking a hold.  The vein his neck throbbing again.

“Oh, for God’s sake Steve, use your initiative if you have any.  Now while you’re here I need this completed by lunchtime, I have a meeting at one, do you think you can manage that?”  Trevor handed Steve a sheaf of papers.  Steve hadn’t been really paying attention, his eyes were drawn to the letter opener on Trevor’s desk, where had he seen that before.  “Steve? STEVE”

“OK, I’ll just start it now then, I’ll have it ready as soon as I can” Steve trudged out of the office and back to his own desk, flopping down in his chair, his head in his hands.  He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“You OK Steve?” Mandy’s voice broke him out of his daydream as the kettle boiled.

“Yes, umm, yes sorry, miles away” Mandy smiled.  “You don’t look well, sit down let me make that”

Steve slumped into the chair in the kitchen and slipped back into silence.  “Is Clever Trevor working you too hard again?  You really need to get away from him, he’s toxic”

“Yeah, but what am I supposed to do, don’t really want to leave all you lovely people, I’ll just sit and wait for someone to promote him, the Peter Principle should kick in at some point surely.”

“I think Trevor has already been promoted above his competence level, if it wasn’t for you, he’d look like the idiot he is, maybe you should just let him fend for himself once in a while, drop him in it” Mandy placed a mug of coffee in front of Steve just as Trevor stuck his head through the doorway.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you Steve, have you finished those reports yet?”

“You just gave them to me, I’m getting a coffee, I’m allowed a break I’ve been here since 7am” Steve picked up the mug and made his way back to his office, the vein in his neck throbbing again.

At precisely 12.45 Steve rushed into his boss’s office with a handful of completed reports and laid them on Trevor’s desk. 

“Oh, don’t need those anymore” Trevor said, “Meetings postponed until next week, something came up.”

Steve’s face flushed with anger, why couldn’t he have said that before, why couldn’t he just communicate better, isn’t that what those fancy management courses are supposed to teach you.  As he turned and walked out Trevor said something to his back, but Steve wasn’t listening. 

That evening Steve was home before 7pm, the first time in ages.  As he opened the door, he knew something was wrong, the house felt cold.  Not just the cold of an empty house, but the cold of a broken central heating.  His heart sank.  He checked the boiler in the kitchen, not that he really knew what he was doing but as there weren’t any lights on and it wasn’t making that noise anymore, he deduced that in his expert opinion it wasn’t working.  Great, just what he needed.  Half an hour on the telephone to the gas company and he had a promise to come out and fix it the next day.  Thank God for maintenance contracts.  Another half an hour later and he was knocking on Mrs Garraway’s door.

“Sorry to bother you Mrs Garraway, but I have someone coming to fix my boiler tomorrow and I need to be in work, would you mind letting them in for me?”

“Certainly dear” the old lady looked at him sympathetically.  Ever since Becky left, she had been really good to him, he really needed to repay her somehow.  He should probably find out when her birthday was, maybe she’d appreciate a nice bunch of flowers.  An hour later he was tucking into fish and chips, sitting in the lounge in his coat trying not to freeze to death.  Why did boilers always break down when it was cold?  There must be some sort of law about it. 

The next morning Steve woke at 5am, his breath making clouds in front of his face, there was ice on his window.  Oh yes, the broken boiler, how lovely.  The shower was cold, but it would have to do, he shaved in cold water, an inevitably cut himself with his new razor.  A small amount of blood dripped onto his white shirt, that was never going to come out.  How do you get blood out of clothes?  There must be a hack on the internet somewhere, he’d check later.  He hadn’t slept well at all, he had woken several times shivering and wrapped himself in more blankets, today was not going to be a good day.

He was at his desk by 7am and at least now he was warm, the radiator in his office pumping out plenty of heat to thaw him out after a night in the icebox of his own home. 

“STEVE, come in here” Trevor’s voice through the wall grated even more today, he wasn’t in the mood.  He stuck his head around Trevor’s door, “Yes Trevor what can I do for you” the sarcasm in his voice went unnoticed his boss.

“I can’t login to this system, it’s not working, fix it”

Steve looked down at the keyboard on Trevor’s desk, the caps lock was on.  Honestly, any normal person would check that, at least wouldn’t they?  He clicked the caps lock button.  “Try it now”

Trevor looked at him, “Is that blood on your shirt Steve?  Honestly don’t you wash your clothes?”

The vein in Steve’s neck pulsed, and throbbed.  His face flushed as anger rose through him.  Not today, he couldn’t cope with Trevor’s rubbish today.  He spotted the letter opener again, a small pointy metal sword.  He remembered where he had seen it before.  It was the one in his dream.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt the little stabby metal thing in his hand and the next thing he knew he was plunging it into Trevor’s neck severing the carotid artery.  Trevor’s gasp died in his throat, the look of horror on his face frozen in time.  Blood sprayed like a fountain covering Steve shirt.  As he walked out the door his only thought was, I wonder how you get blood out of a shirt.