It didn’t hit Wilom at all as he was walking home, despite the new sheaf of paper in his briefcase: the lists of things he would need to procure and do before he reported for training. He probed at the idea like a sore tooth. Continue reading
At Marc’s house, Cathlin was sorting through a pile of mail. Jilli was playing with her bear and a doll at the other end of the table, and Marc was chopping carrots.
“There’s one here for you,” Cathlin said, and pushed it across the table to Wilom. Continue reading
Wilom waited for Vanda, for once, when they met for tea to talk through their next meeting with the Heads. He had brought a book to read, and sat at the tea shop, periodically telling the waitresses to give him “just another few minutes until my friend gets here” until Vanda arrived. Continue reading
When Wilom eventually got back to Marc’s house, Cathlin was already there, but Jilli was not. Wilom had been far too preoccupied that morning to remember whether Marc had had anything planned with her, or whether she was at Sarit’s that afternoon, but he put it out of his mind. Continue reading
Wilom had intended to go over the ledger one last time on the morning of the next meeting with the Heads. When he woke up, however, he discovered that he couldn’t face that immediately. He got dressed, and went out into the kitchen to make himself toast and mentally prepare himself. Continue reading
The Heads’ meeting was held in a moderately well-kept warehouse on the other side of the city. Wilom was starting to suspect that nobody he knew actually did business in sensible places, like offices, and realised just how much that said about his life choices. Vanda left him outside the door, and went in to make her case to them. Continue reading
As Wilom ate dinner with Cathlin, Jilli and Marc, their soup was interrupted by a knock on the door. Wilom immediately went over, in his mind, where he’d put his documents. Continue reading
Wilom was rereading ledgers when Cathlin and Jilli came home. He was knocked out of his distracted reverie by the shutting door and the sound of their argument. Continue reading
Wilom double-checked the address in his notes before knocking on the door. Mr Treene, hm? The ledger information on him was contradictory – all underlines and warnings and scribbled notes about how rich he was, and his unfailing honesty, no two comments in the same handwriting. In the end, though, he was only one of two letters Wilom had gotten a response to. So Wilom had decided to go and see for himself. Continue reading
Wilom woke up earlier than he’d ever willingly woken up in his life to get to the orchard.