Daily Quotes 22

15 Dec











Hiding the Elephant – Chapter 22

‘We’re here for a business meeting.’ Alicia Masters draped herself around the remaining unoccupied chair. She wore her tightly tailored coat over very little underneath. Giving in to some previously hidden provincial instinct, Emma checked that the buttons on her blouse were earning their keep.

‘David and I are going into a partnership,’ Alicia announced not just to the table but the entire dining room. A couple of heads turned in their direction.

‘Congratulations.’ Dominic obviously knew what she was talking about.

Emma maintained a politely interested smile and drank her coffee in small, creamful sips.

‘Maya and Mr. Man are becoming a permanent item.’

The three of them laughed. Emma patted her lips with the napkin, making sure there were no traces of yellowish cream left on them.

‘A gold mine,’ said Dominic. ‘A veritable gold mine.’

‘My own Mr. Man hasn’t come up with the goods yet, but he will.’ Alicia fished a green coloured packet of MORE cigarettes out of her crocodile skin effect bag and lit it for herself with a gold effect lighter. The smoke coming out of the thin, brown cylinder was slightly menthol scented. There were no No Smoking signs on the wall, but there were no ashtrays on the tables either.

‘You’re very good at getting what you want, Alicia.’ The smoke was spiralling straight into Dominic’s face and he moved his chair out of its way. ‘I’ve re-arranged the meeting with the Riverside landlords for next Thursday. You said you’re free on Thursday morning, didn’t you?’

Emma pricked her ears. This was becoming interesting.

‘Don’t push it, boy. I haven’t started earning big bucks yet. And you have to be realistic. If I manage to squeeze Roddy enough to buy myself into the partnership, he just won’t have enough readies to pay your rent as well. He’s been expanding in all directions recently. You can’t squeeze blood out of stone.’

‘True. Very true, m’dear,’ said Bowles.

Lock Up Your Daughters – Chapter 22

‘The lady’s an asthmatic,’ said the young trainee doctor. She had dark rings under her eyes and a habit of pushing the wisps of her hair to the back of her head. ‘That’s made it worse for her. It wasn’t CS, it was a pepper spray. Mrs. Mihedji’s eyes are swollen and painful. Her respiratory tract has been affected as well.’

‘Can I talk to her?’

‘I don’t think questioning her would be a good idea just at the moment. We’ll be keeping her in overnight for observation. Come back in the morning.’

‘I can’t help unless she tells me who did it,’ Grant said helplessly but the white coat was walking away.

At least she wasn’t seriously or permanently injured, he kept telling himself. She was in good hands, she was safe. For now. It’s occurred to him that now that young Clint Tibb was kept under strict protection by his parents and teachers alike, the Avenger – a stupid name but somehow it stuck – the Avenger was venting his anger on anyone he could put his hands on.

‘Go away. Instantly. Just go. She won’t talk to you. Not now, not ever.’ Paul Mihedji was a tall, exceedingly thin man in his seventies, with thick glasses slipping down to the tip of his nose. With his arms raised in the attempt to push Grant out the small cubicle he looked like an enraged spider. ‘She should have never talked to you. You’re all the same. You use people.’

‘But, you called me,’ Grant protested with ill judged reason. ‘Why did you ring me if you didn’t want my help?’

‘To punch your nose in. Which I will if you don’t get lost by the count of three.’

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