Chapter Three

 Stewart Callaghan was apparently unavailable when Malcolm arrived at his office and he made him wait over an hour in a side room before offering a chance to speak. Stewart hated dealing with the public as their concerns were always one-sided and never included the bigger picture which, in most of the projects he was involved with, included a large amount of investment into his portfolio from company owners and contractors alike.

Stewart knew what was coming when Karen, his secretary, gave him the news of Malcolm’s arrival. He pushed a hand through his slick, black hair, pulled the bottom of his suit jacket down and asked her to let the visitor know that he wouldn’t be available for a short while. He then commented on Karen’s attire, telling her that the figure-hugging blue and black dress she was wearing really showed off her best assets, to which she chuckled and made a mental note never to wear it again. As the door closed behind her, he leaned across his desk to follow her movement with his eyes and exhaled slowly before returning to his computer. The screen had been angled away from the view of anybody in the building, meaning he could spend his time on a retro games package that killed time beautifully. He clicked the pause button on Tetris and continued, making a note of the time so that he didn’t completely forget his impromptu appointment with Malcolm.

The waiting room was designed for short placements in between meetings and so there were no posters or literature to occupy Malcolm as he waited. He was boiling with rage before he’d even entered the building and the four plain, magnolia walls were doing his mind no favours as he mulled over the ultimate impact to his own surroundings following the construction of such a facility. He was prone to believing the worst about any given situation and could vividly picture being mugged at gunpoint due to the implementation of such a site. He was just thinking about taking up martial arts to defend himself when he was called in to Stewart’s office and asked to wait a further five minutes, though this time with a hot beverage to distract him.

As the door swung open, Malcolm noted the white pinstripes on his opponent’s blue suit and immediately labelled him a yuppie, a flashback from the young stars of Wall Street who would have happily trampled on the face of their own grandmother if they felt it would give them a step up at work. In truth, Stewart loved his grandmother, yet he would happily have stepped on anyone else’s elderly relatives for the smallest step to the top, a view he didn’t consider to be out of the ordinary. He stood from his desk to welcome the visitor, refusing to smile in case it gave the impression he was happy to take such visits during the day, although he did offer a hand for his guest to shake.

The newspaper became the starting point for the exchange as Malcolm opened it to the article he’d been offended by and thrust it towards the man from the council. He never looked down at the paper, choosing instead to stare at the young man until he was sure that he understood Malcolm’s complaint. He then uttered a single word, “Well?” and waited for an answer.

“I never liked their crossword. Not challenging enough”, Stewart replied, maintaining his straight composure. He’d always had a matter-of-fact manner about him and rarely displayed any hint of empathy. He’d once told an incredibly indecent story about a colleague during her retirement speech and hadn’t felt a shadow of guilt watching as she explained her highly unusual actions to her furious partner.

Malcolm contorted his face at the flippant response. “You know very well that’s not what I mean, Callaghan. You’re behind this and I want to know how to stop it. I don’t want this filth on my streets, I’ve lived here for longer than you’ve been alive”. As he spoke, he kept a finger on the article regarding the proposal for the district yet fixed his eyes on the man in front of him.

Stewart remained unmoved as he waited for a pause in Malcolm’s speech. “Ah, you’re one of those prudes, are you?”

The words clearly hit Malcolm as he clamped his mouth shut, his already red face beaming with rage as he gave his mind a chance to confirm what he’d heard. “Prude? This is about decency. Plain, honest decency. You know what a street remodelled in this fashion will bring and I don’t want it here, thank you very much”. A small shower of spittle left his mouth and fell just short of the man in front of him, who found himself thankful that there was a desk between them.  

“You can’t stop it, the plans are too far ahead. There was a chance to object to this months ago, that’s when you should have put in your concerns. At this point you’re whispering into the gale with your moaning”, Stewart countered, remembering the hundreds of objections they’d had initially and how much work had gone into allaying the fears of the locals, mainly through talk of compensation. Stewart recognised the type of character he was currently faced with and knew that talk of remuneration for his inconvenience would be perceived as bribery, so he kept the council’s metaphorical wallet firmly in his pocket. “If you have any apprehensions then put them in a letter but you should save wasting your time, we’re beyond that stage right now”. Stewart kept his voice calm and dropped the sarcastic tone as he could see that it was interfering with Malcolm’s rationality.

“Beyond that stage? Tosh. Rip up the plans and burn them, that’s what stage we’re at. It’s not difficult and you know it”. Malcolm’s face was burning, the blood from his body seemingly collecting in his face. He’d expected an argument but hadn’t counted on being spoken to in such a derisive way. He tried to keep his fury bottled, allowing one more interaction before he would let it blow. He was unaware that he was tensing his muscles beneath his heavyset frame, which would have alerted him to how close a physical confrontation was.

“It’s not that simple and you know it”, was all Stewart managed to say before Malcolm instinctively jumped over the table and lunged forward, fist first, into the councilman’s face. His first two knuckles connected with his enemy’s eye socket and sent him flying backwards into a chair. Malcolm continued walking towards him slowly as he gracelessly flung his stinging eye open and checked his nose for blood. He looked up at Malcolm and laughed half-heartedly, attempting a maniacal sound yet missing the tone completely. Malcolm furrowed his brow and snarled furiously, giving no sign of fear or mercy. Stewart had only ever been in one fight at school and that had been more of a tussle that he’d accidentally waded in on. Regardless, he sprung to his feet and lunged at his attacker with both arms, trying to wrestle him to the ground by driving with his legs. Malcolm lifted him by his thin trunk and threw him backwards to collide with two chairs that noisily flew from their untidy position beneath the table. Karen saw the struggle and rang through to reception for the security team to help out.

As the two men started to wrestle on the floor, a further two men, one very large both in height and stature and the other much smaller than anyone else in the room, made their way through the door and demanded an end to the semi-violent scenes. Punches had been thrown on both sides, though Stewart’s were weak and landed awkwardly while Malcolm returned each one at a steady and pain-inducing pace. Stewart found that grappling was his best option as he felt he was losing the fight. Malcolm’s temper often meant that he ranted about articles in the paper yet he’d never used his physicality to assault anybody and he found himself enjoying the engagement without giving thought to the fact that the younger man was also much smaller than him.

Both parties refused to back down and so the security team removed Malcolm forcefully as he was the individual they least recognised. Stewart never was one for small talk to members of staff he considered lower than him but his tendency to pass them every day meant they at least knew vaguely who he was. Malcolm started shouting as soon as he could feel himself being dragged from the scene and made idle threats towards Stewart just to make sure he knew who was in charge. In reality, it was Stewart who had the authority and he came to realise this much later.

The security team ejected Malcolm from the building with a warning that they would call the police if he ever returned. Stewart found an opportunity to catch them up and hid behind the larger of the two guards, squaring his chest as he stood and watching the unruly citizen leave the area. He straightened his suit and realised that he’d need to change since his trousers had torn during the struggle. He smirked as Malcolm turned a corner and then held his ribs as he collapsed into a chair, breathing deeply to alleviate the pain in his sides.

The security team looked concerned as they questioned Stewart on his wellbeing, his answers giving them little relief as he struggled to breathe between them. Karen caught up with the three of them and offered to take Stewart back up to his office, the two security guards pleased that they no longer had to care for him as he still looked fairly rough.

“What was all that about?” Karen asked as they made their way slowly back up the corridor.

Stewart was limping and still holding one side, although his breathing was starting to return to normal. “Just another nut with another concern, nothing drastic”, he said, trying to keep his answer short. “We won’t be hearing from him again, I can guarantee it. Not after the beating I’ve just given him”. As he spoke, a sharp pain moved through his ribs and he cried out in agony.

“We should get you checked out”, Karen replied, trying not to sound disbelieving of his victory.

“No need, I’ll take five in my office and be ready for action in no time. You could get me a coffee, though”. His spirit raised as he noticed that they were right outside his office, his thoughts moving to an afternoon of recovery. “Oh, and Karen? No more surprise meetings, if you don’t mind”.

Karen refused to reply, figuring that the meeting had probably gone awry due to the actions of the councillor rather than the fact she’d allowed the member of the public to meet him. She turned her head to ensure he didn’t see her stony face and made her way to the kitchen.

“Where was I?” Stewart said aloud to himself before catching the image on the screen in front of him. “Ah yes”, he uttered before once again restarting the game on the frozen screen.