Tenebris’s Terms of Business were still up on the whiteboard. From a business perspective it was impressive. Tenebris had seen a gap in the market and gone for it. Those working in the Security Services who wanted to sell information could hardly offer it up on eBay or post an ad. Tenebris legitimised it. Snakes being able to absent-mindedly flick through an unhackable secure app deciding who to sell what to, at what price, took away the severity of what they were doing. There was no hovering in dark alleyways exchanging USB sticks and briefcases of cash. They didn’t have to seek out criminals and dangle the carrot of information in front of them. These Snakes didn’t even have to deal with the risk of associating with ruthless employers who could choose to kill them rather than pay them. Tenebris’s Inappropriate Behaviour clause meant that if the Employee came to undue harm after the information exchange, Tenebris would be paid their share and the Employer would be struck off for future job postings. The Snakes were protected. Christ, they were one step away from having their own union.

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

‘WELCOME, EVERYONE.’ Yvonne clasped her hands together. ‘We are so delighted that you were able to make it here tonight to get a chance to meet each other and see some of the wonderful work your children have been doing.’ She gestured behind her to a wall covered in multicoloured paint splodges and an array of colourful card with pieces of pasta glued onto them in haphazard shapes. ‘Please do mingle and help yourself to refreshments.’

Next to Yvonne was a small table bearing plastic cups of tepid white wine and some wilted sandwiches.

An evening of attempting to make friends with Gigi’s new friends’ parents was the last thing I needed after a stressful day at work trying to come up with a plan to take down a business that was getting colleagues killed and threatening the way all our Security Services operated.

Long ago I had determined to avoid any event that required me to wear a name badge. No fun was ever had anywhere you needed to announce your name to anyone casting a glance at your left breast. Yet here I was, ‘Alexis Tyler, Gigi’s Proud Mummy!’ stuck on the lapel of my leather jacket. I looked around the room wishing Will hadn’t got stuck at work. I needed an ally.

I walked over to the table and picked up a plastic cup of warm white wine, took a sip and winced. Right. Now to ‘mingle’. Why did that sound about as appealing as ‘torture’? The other parents seemed already deep in conversation with one another. I recognised one mother from the morning drop-offs; we had yet to break through the weather small-talk barrier.