The offices of Miles & Davis
Solicitors were compact but opulent. There were two grand doors flanking the
desk of the pretty receptionist, both of them closed. She was wearing a summer
dress that revealed enough tanned skin to seem slightly inappropriate given the
staid surroundings. She beamed at Jack and Dominic as they entered.
Jack hung back as Dominic explained
their business, finding himself entranced by these two portals. There was no
name on either door but even if there had been, Jack did not know which
solicitor they were here to see. The receptionist chirped out her words,
raising the pitch at the end of each phrase, describing and exceeding the
stereotype of her role. She asked Dominic if they didn’t mind waiting for a few
moments; Mr Miles was just finishing off a meeting. Dominic nodded and she
continued to beam, shining her smile in Jack’s direction as she gestured to a
seating area concealed by tall ferns.
They withdrew and sat down. Dominic
offered a supportive smile to Jack but didn’t speak. There was a
library-stillness to the room that discouraged conversation. Jack ached to talk
to his friend about what had happened in Bristol but he couldn’t. There was the
tiniest hope that the old man would understand and condone his actions but a far
greater chance of condemnation and disgust. Jack couldn’t risk that. He
couldn’t face the possibility of Dominic’s gentle kindness closing off from him
forever.
He thought about Lucy again, remembering
that last day they spent together. Twenty-four hours earlier his life had been
a perfectly rendered painting – a spectacle that might have been the pinnacle
of his own artistic talent if he’d created it himself – but curling jigsaw
cracks had formed in it and all the stability of that tranquil scene had been
broken into its constituent parts. Now he was left to piece it back together;
to create a fresh picture; but he had no idea what that new image was going to
be.
He was glad to have Dominic with him
even if he knew that it couldn’t last. Whatever his destiny was now, it didn’t
lie anywhere close to his original path here in London; that much he was sure
of. He didn’t even really know what he was doing there. How much time could
pass before the police came to find him?
Jack glanced across at the
receptionist, his view mostly obscured by the plant to his right. She turned
back to her computer instantly. She’d been watching him. Jack wasn’t new to
interest from the opposite sex, he’d been blessed enough in that department,
but the attraction women had shown toward him had still always left him feeling
a little befuddled and shy, despite the confidence he felt in so many other
ways.
Dominic sat quietly, one leg crossed
over the other.
The left hand door behind the
reception desk opened. Jack slid forward on his seat, ready to stand. Then he
saw the figure who emerged and twisted his head round to look away immediately,
concealing his face, blood rising to his neck.
It was a man in a business suit and
behind him, stepping from the gloom of the office: a policeman.
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