All is Fair by Emma Newman

and forth, the white ball left tiny tracks in the baize. There was a bar billiards table behind him, an old-fashioned pub skittle game in the corner, and pinball machines. The games room of Lord Iron’s grand estate was bigger than the footprint of his own house in Bath. He felt lost there. It was like staying in a huge hotel off-season, melancholy in its emptiness. There were people maintaining the house, and a cook, but none of them treated him like a normal person. He was a guest with nothing to do except wait for Lord Iron to find a gap in his schedule for him.
    He didn’t really want to stay but after Poppy’s latest interference he didn’t want to stay at home either. He felt a tension in his chest that he tried to shut out with beer and TV in the palatial room he’d been given.
    Why was he here?
    “Sam, I’m sorry, the call to Buenos Aires had a terrible line. Have you eaten?”
    Sam nodded.
    Iron looked at the snooker balls. “Do you play?”
    Sam shrugged. “I haven’t for years, not properly.” He sometimes played pool at the pub with Dave. It felt like he’d lived three lives since he went to work every day and went home in the evenings. “Do you play?” he asked.
    Iron nodded. “When I have the time. So.” He clapped his hands. “They gave you the tour of the Manchester office, I understand. What did you think of my business?”
    Sam rolled the white again. It hit a red and struck out in a different direction. He didn’t try to catch it. “Impressive.”
    Iron took off his jacket, loosened his tie and went to the rack on the wall holding the snooker cues. “Anything catch your eye?”
    The only thing that had caught Sam’s eye was a toy zombie on one of the desks in a huge room full of partitioned work stations. It leaped out at him as something individual in a sea of banal corporate decor. When his guide was distracted by a query he’d picked up the toy and found it was designed to be squeezed like a stress reliever. When he crushed it in his fist the zombie’s eyes bulged and he’d almost laughed. Almost.
    Iron struck the white with the cue and the noise startled Sam out of the memory. One of the red balls dropped into the corner net next to him. “Well, I saw a lot.”
    “What did you think of the office?”
    He remembered how excited the man who’d given the tour had got when they reached the top floor. “This is one of the best offices in Manchester,” he’d said as he opened the door. “You can see everything from up here.”
    “It had a good view,” Sam said as Iron potted another red.
    “Could you see yourself being happy there?”
    Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. Normally he would lie, out of politeness, but he didn’t have it in him. “I’m not sure if I could be happy anywhere at the moment.”
    Iron was lining up another shot but when he heard Sam’s words he straightened up and laid the cue on the baize. “It’s too soon. I’m sorry.”
    “No, it’s not that. I just… don’t feel like I want to work somewhere like that. It’s too…”
    “Big?”
    “Soulless.” Sam winced. “Shit. Sorry, I know you’re this amazing businessman but it’s just not my scene. Leanne loved all that kind of stuff, not me.”
    Iron picked up his jacket. “Let’s go for a walk.”
    Sam had walked around the estate several times since he’d arrived. He knew he had to go back to Bath again soon. Just like he had to follow up on the items in Leanne’s will. There were things to pass on to friends and family, charities some of her savings were supposed to go to and a huge list of companies and mailing lists to notify about her death. Some loose ends, like her Facebook account, he simply didn’t know how to tackle. And there was the sealed envelope the lawyer had given to him. His name was written on the front in her handwriting and it felt like there was a key inside. As much as he wondered what was there, he couldn’t face opening it yet.
    She’d insisted on life