Aphelion by Andy Frankham-Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

trying to steer clear of Duncan Leman.
    The bastard!
    Once he was in the staff toilets, Corey checked to make sure he was alone, then turned to the sink. He turned on the tap and opened his hand, revealing the packet of paracetamol. He popped a couple out of their foil, and placed them on his tongue, bending over the sink to drink directly from the tap. Not as elegant as a cup, but then the water in the bathroom was not normally used for washing down hangover pills. Standing up straight again, he tilted his back. He swallowed, and let out a breath of air.
    It’d take a little while, but his headache would soon subside to a manageable level. In the meantime he just had to make sure he didn’t lean in too close to the…
    “Drowning your sorrows last night, then, eh, Cor?”
    He closed his eyes. He bloody hated it when that tit used the diminutive; it implied a familiarity that wasn’t warranted. Slowly, Corey opened his eyes again and turned to face the intruder. “What do you want, Dunc? ” he asked, placing particular emphasis on the last word. He knew Duncan was no fan of being called that—besides, it made the owner of the name sound incredibly thick. And Corey liked that.
    Duncan Leman was a short man, somewhat overweight and not very tidy. One of the sort who figured that since they spent their working hours hidden behind a PC and phone there was no need to worry about their appearance. It was the middle of winter and the fool was dressed in khaki shorts and a sickeningly bright t-shirt. Corey wanted to hit him just for dressing like that.
    Duncan shrugged. “Don’t want anything, mate. Just making an observation is all.”
    “Yeah, well don’t. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
    Again Duncan shrugged. “Mate, we’re all entitled to our opinions.”
    Corey chewed his bottom lip and shook his head. “No, really. It’s just the fact that you think I’m entitled to your opinion that grates on me.” He nodded at the door behind Duncan. “Sod off.”
    As expected, Duncan didn’t take the advice, which suited Corey well. The headache had yet to leave, and Duncan’s continued presence was only serving to irritate it. He turned away from Duncan and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Corey pocketed the tablets and turned the tap back on.
    “Why are you always so aggressive, Cor?”
    Corey couldn’t believe the stupidity of the man. “Shit, dude! Do you actually have a brain in that head of yours?” he asked, as he splashed water over his face. “I’m pretty sure I spelled it all out yesterday. I don’t like you, Duncan.” He pulled a couple of paper towels out of the dispenser and proceeded to dry his face. “You’re pond scum. Now, fuck off, before I ask less politely.”
    Duncan smiled and narrowed the gap between them. “One step closer to the edge, Cor.”
    Corey raised an eyebrow, continuing to watch Duncan in the mirror. He was clearly provoking Corey; intentionally, too. Duncan wanted Corey out of the job. Corey wondered why. He also decided not to rise to the bait.
    “Yeah, whatever, dude. I’ve got work to do.” He went to move around Duncan, but the shorter man merely stepped in the way. Corey sighed. “Mate, sorry, but I ain’t getting no second warning for you.”
    Duncan, at least, had the good sense to look disappointed. “Now that is a shame, ’cause I know that unc…Mr Roberts wants your ass.”
    Corey stepped back, and regarded Duncan in a new light. The slip was clear, and Duncan hadn’t been quick enough in covering it. The boss was his uncle, eh? So, it was a tag-team event. He decided to laugh it off. For now. “Yeah, well, if he wants a piece of ass he should try Heaven. I’m spoken for!” With that he barged his way out past Duncan.
    *
    Corey flicked the lamp off, and for a few moments stood by the archway that connected the living room to the kitchen. The soft orange glow of the fire created a calming atmosphere in the room, making Corey not want to move. He