The following is a true story from the industry…

It was the end of an ordinary day at the office. I’d locked up and was about to turn the sign, when a young man came running up to the door and began banging on it so hard I thought he’d break the glass. The look on his face was one of sheer and utter terror…

Hastily, I drew back the bolt and let him in. He all but fell onto the chair I offered him, and sipped gratefully at the brandy I placed into his shaking hand. After a few minutes, he became calmer.

‘May I enquire as to why?’ I said, trying to push thoughts of the delicious dinner waiting at home to the back of my mind.

The young man sighed and shook his head. ‘You’ll think I’m crazy. And then you won’t want to find me a job anywhere else.’

‘Nonsense!’ I beamed. ‘Many of our candidates are completely barmy; in fact, the barmy ones are among the very best that we have. Now, explain everything. We pride ourselves on finding out as much as possible about every job-seeker, and that includes listening to tales of strange and terrifying experiences.’

‘Alright,’ said the man. ‘Here it goes. I landed this job about a month ago, working in a pie shop. My mate who was originally offered it decided to go to Australia, and sent me along instead. At first, it was great. I got to try out loads of new recipes, and my pastry skills came on in leaps and bounds, especially puff pastry, which is always tricky, you know?’

I nodded, sympathetically.

‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘after a while, I noticed something… something funny. Every time we got a grocery delivery, there was very little in it. Butter and flour of course, and some vegetables – spinach, mostly, and red peppers. But there was no meat. None. No chicken, pork, beef, ham, or game.’

I leaned forward. ‘Go on.’

‘The thing was, the larder was always full of meat, but I never saw it delivered. And when I asked where it had come from, the boss just stared at me and said: “If you keep poking your nose where it’s not wanted, you’ll find out where this meat is from – the hard way!”’

‘And what do you think he meant by that?’ I asked.

‘Well, I did find out, a few days later and by accident,’ explained the man. ‘I was working on a new pie recipe, ham and potato with toasted sage and crumble topping, and as I was slicing the ham… I saw a tooth, in the meat.’

‘Extraordinary!’ I exclaimed, jotting a note on my pad with my pencil. ‘But tell me, why was this so alarming? Pigs do have teeth, after all.’

‘Yeah,’ said the man. ‘But they don’t have fillings, do they?’

I stood up and walked to the window, taking a glance at the empty street as I drew the blind.

‘Does anyone else know about this? Have you called the police?’

‘No. My first thought was that, really, I should probably line up a new job before I did any of that. In fact, as soon as I found the tooth, I dropped everything and came straight here.’

‘Very wise,’ I replied. ‘Very wise indeed. I should think that you feel better now, don’t you?’

The young man nodded, then frowned. ‘Actually,’ he said, the brandy glass slipping from his fingers, ‘I feel… I feel a bit odd. A bit… slightly… gnrghh… flurrrp…’ The last two words were obscured by the fact he had fallen face down onto the carpet, unconscious.

I crossed the room to my desk and picked up the phone, hitting speed dial, button 2. After a moment, my call was answered. ‘Hello, Norman?’ I said. ‘It’s me.’ I prodded the young man with my foot. ‘He’s here, so come and collect him. He’s nice and lean, but not too muscley. I’ll send a replacement over tomorrow. And Norman? Try not to let the cat out of the bag so soon next time, eh?’

I hung up, and put on my coat. I’d soon be home, eating my delicious meat pie dinner…