The Lover's Children novel Chapter 11

JAMES

Richard and I enter Reception together; suited, booted and briefcased.

Kirstie glances up from her desk. “Good morning, Mr Haswell. Good morning, Mr Alexanders.” She’s dressed in standard ‘office-wear’; white blouse, dark jacket and a straight skirt cut to an inch above the knee. Her hair is pinned neatly back and up, and a touch of colour at lips, eyes and cheeks highlight her strong features.

“Good morning, Kirstie,” I return. Our concierge is always efficient and professional when at work, usually issuing a polite ‘Meet and Greet’ smile. Today, the smile seems forced.

Richard glances around the foyer: the tree, the tinsel and decorations, a four-foot-high plastic Labrador wearing a Santa hat and a sign around its neck: A dog is for life. Not just for Christmas. It sits by the waiting area, a charity tin on the coffee table. All Donations To Kirstie’s Canine Christmasses

“It's all looking very festive, Kirstie.” He gives the dog a hard stare. “Did you clear the charity box with Mrs Gillis?”

“I did, sir. I… I hope that’s alright? It’s just, there’s always so many puppies given at Christmas and…”

“It’s fine, Kirstie. It makes a pleasant change from people asking me for money. Still…” He takes a wallet from his jacket, extracts a note and pushes it, folded, into the money slot.

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome…” Richard looks closer. “Kirstie, are you quite well?

She shuffles papers. “I'm fine, sir. Thank you for asking.”

But I too have seen what Richard has. Close up, Kirstie’s eyes are shadowed, her make-up heavily applied.

In the elevator, he Hmmms. “James, did it seem to you then, that Kirstie looked rather tired?”

“It did, yes.” I do a quick re-run of the last few days. “Now I think on it, she’s not seemed herself for the last week or so. And Mitch said something about it too. She was fitting Kirstie for her wedding dress and commented afterwards that she’d not seemed so excited as she should be.”

“Bride’s nerves?”

“Maybe.”

*****

Upstairs, Francis, Richard’s PA, greets us. “Coffee first, Mr Haswell? Or do you want to see your diary for the day?”

Richard tugs at an ear, grimacing. “I know what’s in it. It’s that damn lunch today, with the Mayor.” He looks glum. “No doubt he’ll drag it out for half the afternoon… Sure I can’t persuade you to join me, James?”

“I’ll leave that particular pleasure to you. I’m the technical man. You don’t need me…”

“I might need your input regarding the works on… “ He stalls, floundering.

“I’m not fooled, Richard. You’re only trying to tow me along for moral support against that wife of his. She still want you to pay for a music college?”

“No, it’s a water park now. She wants it including in the renovation works down by the river, but…”

Francis is doing her best not to smile, and not succeeding. “Not looking forward to your lunch, Mr Haswell?”

He snorts. “I’d rather spend the afternoon gnawing my own foot off.”

“Would you like to receive a phone call, say two o’clock, with some emergency requiring your immediate attention?”

Richard leans over the desk, kisses her forehead. “What would I do without you, Francis?”

The intercom buzzes. “Francis, it’s Kirstie. I have a parcel for James. I’ve signed for it. The stamp says… L.T.T. Galvanised Components, I think. It’s a bit smudged. Should I put it in the internal mail?”

I call across. “Thank you, Kirstie. No, I’ve been waiting for it to arrive. Can you bring it up to my office please.”

“The desk…”

“Mrs Gillis can man the desk for a few minutes.”

“I’m on my way.” The sound clicks off.

Richard tilts his head. “What's so urgent about the package?”

“Nothing at all. It’s just L.T.T. going for a sales pitch with some samples. No, I wanted an excuse to get Kirstie on her own. As you said in the elevator, did she look to you like a woman should, that's getting married in a few days time?”

“No, in fact, she didn’t.”

Francis pipes up. “Should I put some coffee on?”