How to Develop Page 12

  Diane had two photographs on her desk, one of her husband and one of her eighteen-year- old, black-and-white cat. Dominic stood staring at the cat’s photo.

  “That’s Maple,” she explained. “I’ve had her since my early teens. She’s old now. I hate that one day I’ll be without her.”

  Dominic licked his lips. “If I do this third job for you,” he said, sounding a little cautious, “you’ll become a senior manager.”

  How could he know what had passed between her and her boss? Yet, it didn’t surprise her that he did know.

  “I’m only on a probationary period, so I don’t believe a word she says about that. Though I believe I’ll keep my job if the work gets done.”

  “I’ve worked a long time here,” Dominic said, matter-of-factly. “I know how things get done. She’s taken all credit for your work which is helping her a lot in getting promoted. She’ll want to keep you nearby just in case she ever needs your help again. Giving you her old job means you’ll be near her and you’ll also feel obliged to help her if she needs it again. You’ll get her job, all right, as long as this last project gets done.”

  Diane could see the logic in what he was saying, but still didn’t believe she’d get the promotion.

  “I’ll do the work for you,” he said. “And I ask nothing for it unless you get the promotion.”

  She swallowed hard. “And if I get the promotion?”

  “I want your cat. I want Maple.”

  She burst out laughing. When she stopped, she searched his face for confirmation that he was joking. But she saw no smile on his face or even a twinkle in his eye.

  “My cat? Why on earth would you want my cat?”

  Dominic shrugged. “I want something of great value.”

  She’d been used to dealing with the weirdness of some male programmers for years, particularly the brilliant ones, but this man seemed to be in a class of his own. She put the palms of her hands to her brow and pushed her hair back slowly.

  “Dominic, she’s just an old cat.”

  “If she died tomorrow, how would you feel?”

  “Heartbroken.”

  “And if she needed medicine, would you pay thousands for it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet she could die the day after you spent all this money?”

  “Yes, she could.”

  Dominic’s eyes glowed brightly. “Then this animal has great value placed on it.”

  Diane shook her head. “Yes, of course, to me. But what can she possibly mean to you?” She kept examining his face for a sign of mischief or merriment but saw not a sign of it. “Dominic,” she said cautiously, “this is not how people see things. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you are a bit strange.”

  Now Dominic laughed and then narrowed his eyes. “What’s a diamond?” he asked.

  “A precious stone.”

  “Why?”

  “Okay, I see what you mean. But…” she paused, realizing she didn’t know what to say next.

  Dominic smiled. “It’s only value is that someone else values it. Otherwise it’s just a bright cold stone.”

  “But a diamond can be sold on. It can be an investment.”

  “I don’t want to sell the cat on,” he said.

  “What do you want it for?”

  “I want to own something living of great value to another human being,” he said. “I’ll take care of her. I’ll see no harm comes to her.”

  She spat out the words, “I’m not giving you my cat.”

  He hung his head. “A pity,” he whispered, and turned on his heels.

  Was Dominic just odd or was he playing games with her? Did he just have a really dry sense of humour? And what was he doing with her locket since she’d given it to him? Oh, God! She hoped this man wouldn’t turn out to be some type of stalker. How had she got mixed up with this creep, anyway? She glanced at her husband’s photo. Oh, yeah!

  Dominic had his huge hand on the door handle. She could see his white knuckles, big and shiny as golf balls.

  “Wait! If I get my boss’s job as a result of this work, and only if I get her job, I’ll let you have my cat.”

  Dominic turned fully round. “That’s all I’m asking. But there is just one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “If you try to trick me by giving me another cat other than your own, I’ll ruin you.”

  Diane’s heart flipped. “Dominic, I…”

  He interrupted her, “You’ve fooled me once because I trusted you; you won’t fool me twice. Do we have a deal or not?”

  She knew she’d never get her boss’s job as a result of this work. “We have a deal.”

  Part 2

  Two months on, Diane’s old boss had her promotion and Diane was now sitting in her old boss’s chair in her old boss’s office. Due to her busy learning curve as a recently promoted senior manager, thoughts of Dominic were right at the back of her mind. So when she heard a single loud knock on her door, she cried out without thinking, “Come in!”

  Dominic entered and quietly closed the door behind him. He stood with his arms hanging loosely by his sides, looking relaxed and confident. He gazed at her with his big, dark eyes, and Diane’s heart plummeted.

  “Congratulations,” he said, smiling.

  She shrugged as though her promotion was no big deal. But the blush on her cheeks betrayed her real feelings.

  She cleared her throat. “Look, Dominic, I never really thought I’d get this job.”

  “You didn’t have to take it.”

  “Dominic, seriously, you don’t still want my cat?”

  “Yes.”

  She grabbed up the photo of the cat. “She needs me. She’d find it hard to adapt to you.” She came round her desk and stood before him, looking him in the eye. “Honestly, I really didn’t think…,” her breath hissed out of her. “I still find it hard to believe you want her. Isn’t there some deal we can come to? Something else I can give you.”

  Dominic said coldly, “We already have a deal.”

  Diane put the photo down. “Outside of my husband, she’s my best friend. I’ve nursed her through illness. A car hit her once and nearly killed her. It was touch and go whether she’d live or die. It tore my heart to pieces watching her little furry body lying there desperately fighting for her life.”

  She sniffled, whipped out a handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of her eye with it. She sneaked a glance at Dominic and was pleased to see him stepping from foot to foot, with his eyelids flickering.

  She sobbed, “Maple just means so much to me. I’d die without her.”

  Dominic held up a large hand, palm outward. “Okay, Okay,” he said. “I’ll give you a chance. I’ll give you nine days.”

  She lowered the handkerchief. “Nine days?”

  “Nine lives of a cat. Nine days to guess the nickname I had in my schooldays. By five thirty in the afternoon on the ninth day you must have it.”

  “Your nickname?”

  “Guess it, and you can keep your cat. But if you can’t guess it, you must give me the cat Do you agree to this?”

  She took a few seconds to gather up her thoughts, and said, “Dominic, I have no choice. Of course, I agree to it.”

  “I can hurt your position in this company,” he warned her.

  “I know, Dominic. I know.”

  “People high up owe me favours. I helped put them there. Just remember that!”

  She absolutely believed it. “I have nine days to guess your nickname from your schooldays. If I can guess it, I keep my cat.”

  “That’s the deal,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, I’m recording our conversation. I believe our agreement will hold up in my favour in a court of law with this evidence.” He held up what looked like a cell phone.

  She watched him go, her eyes wide, her breath erratic.

  *

  Diane put on her thinking cap. What sort of nickname would Dominic have had as a boy? He was short, wiry, pale and odd with brilliant
programming skills. He’d have been one of those small and skinny brainy kids that the popular kids ignore except to mock. She googled ‘nickname for a short and skinny brainy kid’ and spent over an hour creating a list of names.

  Over the next two days, she also made discreet enquiries with anyone in the company she thought might be able to help her. To her disappointment, she discovered people knew very little about Dominic, though many knew of him. Unsurprisingly, he spent most of his time in his own little backroom where he worked away on special projects.

  On the third day, she got a single loud knock on her door.

  “Come in, Dominic!”

  He came in. “Guessed it?”

  She pulled out her list and went straight at it. “Was it Shortass?” Dominic shook his head. “Titch?” Again, he shook his head. “Pint-size?” He made a third shake of the head. She reeled off another forty-seven nicknames, including Squirt, the Short-D, Short Dom and Brainy Dom but all the time he kept shaking his head.

  “Six days to go,” he said with a smirk.

  After he’d gone, she slumped behind her desk. She had to pick up the pace, or else face losing this. She went online to find a private detective.

  On the afternoon of the sixth day, the detective phoned her.

  “I talked to his old headmaster. He remembers him because Dominic was far ahead of other children his own age in the sciences and mathematics.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “But that’s all he remembered about him. I also talked to his old form teacher who’s still at the school. He confirmed what the headmaster had said but he knew nothing about any nickname. I don’t know if it amounts to anything, but the teacher also said that the class bully always gave Dominic a wide berth.”

  “That’s interesting. I wonder why.”

  “The teacher didn’t know. I can keep digging if you like.”

  “Please, do,” she said. “But you’ve only got three more days. After that, it’s too late.”

  As soon as she put down the phone, she got a single knock on her door. The sound made her spine crackle.

  “Come in, Dominic!”

  Once inside, he said, “Well?”

  “Was it Brainbox?” He shook his head. “Whizz kid?” He shook his head. “Was it Professor?”

  He laughed out loud. “Not a chance.”

  “Einstein? Oompa Loompa Head? The Brain? Smoothy Brain? Two Brains?”

  To all these guesses Dominic replied with a quick shake of the head. Before leaving, he warned her, “Three more days and the moggy’s mine. I don’t want to make her new life too unfamiliar so make sure you add her old bed, scratching post, feeding and drinking bowl and anything else you think she should have when you bring her to me.”

  *

  Over the next few days, Diane petted, kissed and stroked Maple a lot. She talked to her, she sang to her, she reminded her of the long history they had together. She fed her her special treats. Sometimes, she just gazed at her stretched-out sleeping body, and sometimes the cat would raise her head and gaze back with a touch of suspicion in her eye.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart!” she whispered to her on these occasions. “I’ll never let any harm come to you.”

  The evening of the eighth day, Mike arrived home cheerful. When he leant over to kiss her, she smelt beer off his breath. He stroked Maple who was dozing in her arms. She’d not yet got round to telling him how she’d risen so high so quickly in her job. She wondered if she ever would.

  “I went to your office to surprise you but you’d gone to a late meeting. I popped into that pub near your office for a pint on the way home.”

  She stroked Maple under her chin, listening to her purr.

  “A small fellow sat near me on a barstool, mumbling and sniggering away to himself. Several times he raised his voice and I heard him say in a mocking way, ‘She’ll never get it! She’ll never get it!’ Well, anyway, this big fellow sitting nearby eventually told him to shut up. The little fellow ignores him and continues with his monologue. So the big fellow gets up and leaning over him tells him again to shut up. This time the little fellow jumps up and tells him right back to shut up. So the big fellow takes a swing at the little fellow. You might think the whole thing was predictable from that point, that the big fellow would hammer the little fellow, but that’s not what happened. The little fellow ducks the bigger fellow’s punch and throws a single punch of his own that knocks the big fellow back on his bum. I’ve never ever seen anything like that,” her husband admitted.

  Maple’s purring had really deep vibrations to it. Diane thought she had never noticed it this deep before.

  Her husband added, “Then the little fellow faced the bar and rapped the counter once, saying, ‘I’m still… something or other’. I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Guess what, Diane? The bigger fellow was still plonked on his backside when the little fellow had gone out the door. So how was your day?”

  *

  The next day dragged. Diane could hardly concentrate on anything at work. In the late afternoon, a single hard knock on the door made her jump.

  “Come in!”

  Dominic entered.

  “It’s almost half five,” he said.

  She had done some more research on appropriate nicknames. “Was your nickname Little Grey Cells?”

  He shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance.”

  She threw out more guesses, and he kept shaking his head and laughing.

  She glanced at the clock. Five minutes until the deadline. A bead of sweat rolled down her brow into her right eye. She rubbed it away, cleared her throat and shot her very last bolt. “Was it Honey Brain?”

  He laughed so loud she felt her head splitting.

  “Give in now?”

  About to nod yes, she noticed an e-mail had just arrived from the private detective. She glanced over the message.

  One new thing I found out was that Dominic was a very active boxer in his youth. In fact, it turns out he was a featherweight champion and quite the hard hitter. Hope this can be of some use to you.

  Diane sat bolt upright and her mind switched gears. The story her husband had told her shot into her mind. He’d gone to a pub. Wait! He’d gone to a pub near the office. The little man punching down the bigger man, was it Dominic? Good God! Mike had said the little man was sniggering and saying in a mocking voice, ‘She’ll never get it!’

  Her gaze fell on Dominic’s huge bony hands and her eyes swelled with sudden understanding. Dominic’s old form teacher had told the detective that the class bully avoided him. She’d got everything the wrong way round about him. Despite his small size, Dominic had never been a geeky weakling but a hard-hitting boxer. His old nickname might have had nothing to do with his small stature, or his brain power, but his fighting prowess.

  She glanced at the clock. Ninety seconds to go.

  So what was his nickname?

  “Was your nickname Puncher?”

  Dominic shook his head. No laughing this time, though, and his jaw hung a little low.

  She was on the right track. She was on the right track. Seventy-five seconds to go. Oh no, she needed more time.

  She wracked her brain to remember what else Mike had said. Why hadn’t she listened properly? Had there been anything else? Yes. Before he’d left the pub the little man had rapped the counter once and said, ‘I’m still…’ and Mike had said, ‘something or other’. Mike hadn’t heard what he’d said. Had he said his nickname? I’m still…

  “Were you known as the Knockout Artist?”

  Dominic shook his head quickly, too quickly. Again, no laughter. Not even a grin.

  Less than a minute to go.

  She went over it again in her mind. Mike had said the little man had rapped once on the counter and said, ‘I’m still…’

  Still what? And was there any special reason why he’d rapped once on the counter?

  Wait!

  Dominic always knocked once on the door before enteri
ng. Once. One rap. One knock. It was like his signature.

  Twenty-five seconds to go.

  One knock. A … “Single knock,” she said out loud.

  She would not have even been aware of saying it out loud if she hadn’t spotted Dominic’s pale cheeks unexpectedly turn bright red.

  It took her five more seconds to realize what had just happened. Then she jumped to her feet and cried out as both she and Dominic glanced at the clock together, seeing the deadline running out of its last few seconds, “Single Knock! Single Knock! They nicknamed you Single Knock in your schooldays!”

  Dominic laughed out loud, only this time the laugh rang hollow.

  Both stared at each other in absolute silence for a while before Dominic finally said, “You are a worthy opponent, Diane. Congratulations.”

  “Would you really have taken my cat?”

  “You’ll never know now. Would you have given it to me without a fight?”

  She just gave him a wiry smile for an answer.

  “How did you guess my old nickname?”

  She touched her nose. “You’ll never know.”

  The following day an internal padded envelope arrived at her desk. Inside was her locket.

  OTHER IDEAS

  As mentioned above, we kept loyal to the tale’s plot and theme in order to show just how easily the tale can be revamped into a modern story and yet look completely fresh. Our biggest changes were to create updated and more complex character (leaving most of the important character attitudes intact) and setting, while stripping away the obvious magic and enchantment. But, naturally, other approaches to developing a fresh story from this tale are possible. For instance, we might concentrate on changing important aspects of character (such as attitude) in order to build new ideas. Rumpelstiltskin is the most interesting actor in the tale, so it would be reasonable for our imaginations to work with his quirkiness and complexity. Of course, it would still be necessary to strip away his fantastic attributes while adding on new and credible ones, just as we did with the character of Dominic in the story. One simple way to encourage new ideas to emerge from his character is to turn him into a woman, or make him much older, or much younger, or split him into two people, so he becomes a couple, for example. His/her victim could be male rather than female. Each of these gender/age changes will create fresh dynamics in the relationship between the characters and possibly new opportunities for changes in plot and storyline.