CHARLOTTEMy Master's phone rings. He pulls it from a pocket glancing at the screen and raises brows, looking surprised."Yes, James Alexanders? Oh, hello Fiona, what can I do for you?"He listens for a moment, then frowns. "I thought I'd paid all those.... What's the reference?" Flipping open his laptop, he taps at the keyboard then peers at the screen. "Ummm.... No, I don't seem to have that one. What was it for? Oh, right, yes, no problem. Can you e-mail it across. That's right, yes. No, I'll pay it now while you're on."He snaps fingers at me, pointing over at his jacket... "Charlotte, my wallet." Pulling out the wallet, I open it to take out his card, holding it up for a second for him to see."Yes, that one."Passing the card to him, I leave him reeling off a number into his phone.But what has caught my eye, is a photo, creased and clearly old, tucked into a plastic window.The face in the photo is of a woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Dark-eyed and with a
JAMESIt's a relief to come to work. There's a lot to be said for having a senior position, people all around who understand you, work you enjoy and not constantly having some interfering bastard peering over your shoulder.I could do without all the paperwork though....I survey the pile of files, reports, applications for permission and other crap on my desk.I remember when I used to design bridges....Richard enjoys this stuff....Each to their own....I check my watch. I have a meeting on-site within twenty minutes.Would this be useful for her?I tap on my phone. "Charlotte, I'm going on-site to talk with Sam Callaghan. We'll be looking at the latest ground surveys on B-site. Do you want to come?""I'd like to, but I'm in a meeting myself. Do you need me there right now?""I can hang on for five minutes. I'll wait by the main entrance."I head for the elevator, throwing, "I'm going on-site, Francis," behind me. "I'm not expecting to be in again today.""
A figure steps down from the bus: Central Station - Barnbridge. She's a pretty girl, but she wears a dowdy print dress. In a style that was fashionable twenty years ago, now it makes the wearer look as though she is destined for spinsterhood or a life as a librarian.The girl looks around, her brilliant green eyes alight with excitement, darting here and there, picking out busy people, fashionable skirts and blouses, jeans cut low at the waist and tight at the thigh, and trendy sneakers in bright colours.Smiling delightedly, she sets out, following the crowds. A roadside stand is serving something that smells of sizzle and onions and she orders a large one, paying for it from a handful of notes curled up in a pocket. The stand owner raises a brow as he sees the money this young girl is carrying.She doesn't care. She's rich. She's never had so much money to spend. Seeing brightly lit windows and neon lights, she walks along, eating her burger. Nothing has ever tasted so good as
CHARLOTTEI'm scratching my head, writing a report for my next student assessment....Analysis of corrosion fatigue fractures in a cyclic degradation environment....The sample I'm supposed to analyse is the breechblock from the testbed in a proofing yard. It's not easy to examine because the damn thing weighs nearly twenty pounds and every time I try to move it, I end up nearly pulverising one finger or another........ when my office phone buzzes."Hello, is this Mrs Summerford? It's Kirstie down in Reception. Your brother-in-law's here for you.""Thanks. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."I can't say I'm sorry to leave the mysteries of corrosion fatigue behind. It's making my eyes water.In the lobby, Ben's waiting for me, his ass parked on the reception desk next to the new girl I'd noticed over the last few days."Hi, Champ," he says, giving me one of those smiles of his that, when he delivers them, lights up the room and makes him look a lot more like his br
CHARLOTTEKirstie has half a sandwich left on her plate but seems to have lost her appetite for it. "He seems a nice guy, and he asked me out."But my mind is whirring....They know each other....Is she an old girlfriend?"Ben's not like us, Kirstie," says Michael. "He thinks that relationships consist of one man and one woman. He sees the world through a narrower lens than we do. If he's got any surprises coming, take it easy with him."Her head bobs, but her eyes rise to meet his. She looks blue. "I was already thinking the same thing. And that perhaps I'm not being fair to him."Michael sits back in his seat, heaving a sigh. "So, you're planning on breaking up with him?"She pokes the half-sandwich around the plate. "Erm.... I hadn't really gotten that far. But I think he expects things from me that...."Things like exclusivity..."That you're not willing to deliver?""Yes."The sandwich has stopped being food and is now just target practice for Kirstie's fo
JAMES"Got your stuff?"Charlotte jams her hard hat and steel-toed boots into a bag, then patting at pockets, does a visible phone, purse, notebook, pen check. "Yes, got everything. You good to go?""Yes, let's get moving. I don't want to be late."We head down, Charlotte stepping out of the elevator ahead of me and heading smartly for the door.Ben's there, talking to Kirstie. He's smiling, but she looks uncomfortable, although Ben seems not to notice.His smile fades as he sees me."Oh hello, Ben. I didn't know you were around," says Charlotte. "Are you here to see me for something?"He replies to her politely enough, but his eyes are on me and are not friendly. "No, I just called by to say hello to Kirstie." This isn't the place for an argument....I switch to polite but cool mode myself. "Hello, Ben. Charlotte and I just going out on-site.""Really? What's happening on-site?"What's wrong with the man?"We're getting the groundworks set out for the new re
He's not expecting much from the trip. One boring meeting after another. If he's lucky, they might sign the contract this time. More likely he'll have to come back a couple of times while they prevaricate and demand more details, extra costings, more projections.But he's a professional. And a professional keeps smiling as long as it's needed to get the job done.A drink....Then an early night with a good book, or maybe a movie.In the lounge, discreet music plays. A fire burns in the hearth. A pleasant environment."What can I get you, sir?" "Malt on the rocks, please."A bottle. The clink of ice cubes and the glass slides across to him. He sips, inhaling the vapours and feeling the chill burn hit the back of his throat.That's good....He tugs his tie open, undoes the top button of his shirt, then perching a hip onto a stool, turns to survey the room.At the other end of the bar is a woman. Pale silk and paler skin are crowned by auburn hair which highlights gol
MICHAEL"Can you keep Charlotte occupied, so she doesn't think too hard about me not being around."James chuckles. "Of course. What have you told her?""That I'm going to be at a trade fair for a couple of days. I made it sound as boring as possible.""Great. I'll call you when I know something.""See you in a couple of days."*****I pull up, check the address, then park up.I chose early evening to arrive. It seemed the best time to reliably catch whoever was at home. Sure enough, windows are lit in several parts of the house.I check I have everything on me I intended, then take a couple of deep breaths....Here goes....Strolling up the path, I knock on the door. After a few moments, a light flicks on behind the door and it opens.I'm looking into the face of a man about my height, although much more lightly built and perhaps in his mid-fifties.Which one are you?"Hello, Mr Kimberley?""I'm David Kimberley, yes. Is it me you want? Or my brother, Step