Read Online Black Widow by Chris Brookmyre - Free Book Online Page A

fingers tapping away as he brought down menus and opened windows I had never seen on my system before. ‘This job is the last thing keeping me on tie-time.’
    â€˜Tie-time?’
    â€˜The dress code. They insist. Yeah, I was drawn to computers because I’m naturally comfortable looking like an office drone. I mean, are they afraid of what IT guys would look like if we were left to dress ourselves? Actually, come to think of it, the dress code kinda makes sense now.’
    I didn’t laugh politely, didn’t smile, but I was at least aware of suppressing the latter, though I wasn’t entirely sure why.
    Despite my reputation, I wasn’t immune to male charm, but I certainly could be resistant to it, especially from an experienced practitioner. When I got the impression someone expected women to find him charming, it was shields up. Peter baffled my defences. On a certain physical level he looked like he ought to be boyishly cocky, and that was what initially triggered my resistance. He was not cocky, however, nor even particularly confident, but there was something affected in his manner; just not affected in the way I was on-guard against. Instead his friendly chat seemed like someone putting on a persona in order to overcome shyness. The friendliness was genuine: it was the ability to express it that seemed an effort.
    I felt bad about being barely civil to him. After all that had happened that day, it was almost like I needed to be nice to someone even more than I needed to rip someone’s head off. I don’t know, maybe it was simply because a pathetic part of me needed someone to be nice back. Either way, I tried to be warmer.
    â€˜Did you start here recently?’ I asked. His accent didn’t sound local. I guessed Edinburgh, but I wasn’t good at judging. Middle-class Scottish was as much as I could confidently narrow it down.
    â€˜Depends on how you define recently. I’ve been here about three months. I work for Cobalt Solutions, which the hospital trust now outsources its IT to. I got rotated here for the transition.’
    â€˜So what’s happening to Craig and his team?’
    I tried not to betray excitement at the possibility of him no longer being here.
    â€˜Their jobs get transferred over to Cobalt, or they can take redundancy. I think Craig is opting for transfer.’
    I’ll bet, I thought, unable to imagine him getting hired anywhere else.
    â€˜So are you into, you know, MORs?’ I asked. I felt like a middle-aged auntie trying to strike up conversation with her teenage nephew.
    â€˜No. I’ve dabbled, but there’s so much commitment required to reach a level where you’re any good. I struggle enough with that in real life.’
    â€˜I know what you mean.’
    I had often considered how concentrating so much time and energy into one aspect of my life came at a cost to everything else, and I don’t only mean family or relationships. I once blogged about it, in fact: how I had failed to take up any hobbies other than a bit of running to stay fit. Part of the problem, I wrote, is the surgeon’s mindset, which is hyper competitive. We don’t dabble: unless we think we can be brilliant at something, there seems no point in even beginning. And though I am utterly single-minded once I have decided to pursue something, time is always going to be the big stumbling block. They say that in order to master something – a language, a sport, a musical instrument – it takes ten thousand hours. Subtract work, sleep and the basics of subsistence and it might take me decades to accumulate that quantity of free time. I’m not sure I could commit so expressly to one pursuit. I already did that once in life and I was starting to wonder whether it was a mistake.
    â€˜I realise how boring this sounds,’ I acknowledged, ‘but I couldn’t imagine pouring in hours and effort to obtain skills that I couldn’t