Ray Sullivan publishes science based fiction adventures on Amazon, Smashwords, Apple iBookstore, Barnes & Noble, Sony, WH Smith and other good eBook retailers as e-books. Additionally all of his books are available in paperback on Amazon. He also muses on technology, posts comedic books in serial format and discusses the world of self publishing.
Books written by Ray Sullivan
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Parallel Lives Chapter 25
Alan had tried the hospital for information as well, but
had treated the reluctance to reveal information with professional admiration.
He had learned to avoid taking such responses personally, indeed he often had
to do the same to protect others’ confidentiality. The nurse had been polite
but firm, both attributes necessary to ward persistent enquirers off, and he
had learned to use them, too, in his line of work.
Deciding against breakfast he left his flat, wrapped in a
camel coat stained with take away food and stale beer, witness to many nights
of pub crawling and frequent visitations upon fast food establishments
afterwards. He would need to spend the morning in the office completing his
reports on the factory explosion, among others.
The events surrounding John Staples had provided a welcome
diversion, in fact an absorbing change to a fairly humdrum routine. Although
accidents as dramatic as the one at the factory were a rarity, the procedure he
followed was routine and it was all a matter of scale after that. Moreover it
all ended up in paperwork, and although Alan was very good at sifting through
detail, he was notoriously reluctant to produce the endless documentation that
followed all incidents large and small. False alarms were particularly
irritating to him, providing a double whammy of wasting his time, usually in
inclement weather long after the pubs had opened, and resulting in the same
paper chase that a major disaster warranted.
At least Staples’ problem had proven interesting, if not
bizarre. He had absolutely no intentions of mentioning Staples’ revelations,
his notebook or his incarceration in the local hospital beyond the statistical
reference to the non emergency treatment carried out. Staples would be lumped,
injury-wise, with the two ladies from the canteen treated for shock and their
colleague who suffered from minor scalds occasioned when she spilled tea over
her hand accidentally when the explosion had taken place. He would be named in
the technical report, though, as the last maintenance fitter to work on the
fixture prior to the accident. However, Alan was convinced in his own mind that
Staples had simply carried out all he had been required to do; the explosion
was a result of a poor design coupled with a tragic string of events.
Sat at his desk, waiting for the computer to complete its
start up checks, Alan allowed his mind to drift back to Saturday night. He knew
he irritated Karen; he had that effect on many women. But he knew she would be
intrigued by him even if his tendency to linger below the neckline was
blatantly obvious, experience told him that. And even if he was wrong, which he
believed he rarely was, he’d enjoyed the view and the whisky. Eventually the
computer was ready, the word processor loaded and a blank, white screen
beckoned. Alan sighed heavily and started to type.