Caught in a Lie (Sex, Lies & Politics Book 1) by Laura Read

Author:Laura Read [Read, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laura Read Ltd
Published: 2017-11-29T18:30:00+00:00

8

The Company

Thomas

The rain lashes down on me as I leap from the bus and run down the road with my umbrella flapping around my head. Dani and Beth refused to get up this morning. It was my job to take them to school because Christine had an early-morning hair appointment – they couldn’t fit her in at another time apparently and she’s too stubborn to go anywhere else. Now I’m late.

I missed my bus by the time I walked (or jogged) the kids to school. While it pelted it down, I waited inside the bus shelter with a teenager in a hoodie emitting raucous rap music (do they still call it ‘rap music’? He’ll be deaf by the time he’s thirty) and a woman who smelt like the last time she washed was in 1999. I made sure to sit far away from them at the other end of the bus. Then a toddler sitting on his mother’s lap vomited into the aisle, nearly splattering my shoes, and I was sorely reminded of my drunken walk home a few days ago.

My trousers and jacket are sodden by the time I run up the stone steps of the gallery towards the grand entrance. I battle to close my umbrella then swing open the door and smile at the receptionist when I walk over to her, trying not to slip as I stride across the polished tiles. The mousy receptionist hides behind a wooden desk with a glass screen and mic set into the counter.

‘Hello, I’m Thomas Matthews here to see Catalina,’ I say, hunching over the mic in case she can’t hear me in this vast echoing hall. ‘Sorry I’m a bit late.’

‘No problem,’ she says in an Eastern European accent. ‘I’ll go and get her. Can you fill this out?’

She hands me a book to enter my name and the time I’ve arrived, then leaves her desk and disappears through a little side door. I fill out the next row then glance up at the other names. ‘Julianne Carrell’ is written in large, elegant handwriting above my name. Time in: ‘8.45am’. She’s been here for half an hour waiting for me. I check for Jamal’s name but can’t see it listed.

Looking around the hallway, I admire the impressive collection of paintings that hang from the panelled walls. Wars are being fought, monarchs pose grandiosely, two dogs dance around each other, women with large skirts sit for the painter, their blank expressions masking their feelings.

‘Thomas!’ exclaims a large lady, waddling through the double doors. ‘Oh dear, you look like a drowned rat!’

Catalina hugs me, even though we’ve only met a couple of times, and kisses both of my cheeks. She’s from Portugal and loves her job. She loves me even more for choosing to host my company parties here. Christmas parties are my favourite, when they decorate the large hall with towering trees and fairy lights. Hanging ornaments dangle from the ceiling, candles light the darkened room, and the number of courses they serve would make King Henry VIII jealous.

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