Books written by Ray Sullivan

Wednesday, 5 December 2012

Parallel Lives chapter 28

Karen had stormed out of the hospital, to the surprise of the congregated and committed smokers huddled outside of the front entrance, their overcoats, dressing gowns and surgical smocks gathered around their bodies; a disparate group of success and failure united in one desire to inhale. She had walked around the grounds for almost half an hour, initially to calm down, subsequently to find a signal on her mobile. Eventually she had succeeded, only to be told that Jack was in conference and couldn’t be disturbed.
‘“Any problems, I’m on my mobile” he says,’ she spat into the mouthpiece after disconnecting the call. ‘Try switching it on.’
Pacing further away from the tall, grey building Karen decided to try her mother, but discounted it immediately. Her mother knew nothing of John Staples, would be overly concerned and would simply wind her up. Continuing up the street, away from her parked car, she spied a coffee shop, dark and bleak in the grey November half light of mid morning. Striking out towards it she felt the icy stabs of near frozen rain hit her face causing her to quicken her pace and strengthening her resolve to mull over the morning with a hot drink.
Ten minutes later Karen found herself stirring a muddy cupful of instant coffee, served indifferently by a man who appeared to contravene the ethos if not the letter of the food hygiene laws. Sipping carefully she mulled over the events of the morning. She had known as soon as Jackson had spoken that he had no intention of revealing anything to her. But what really irked her, above all else, was that he had second guessed her and she had let him walk all over. She knew he would be smiling as she left his office, pleased that he had blocked her questions. Inside she was boiling with anger, with a need to have some basic questions answered. After trying Jack’s mobile again and then confirming with his secretary that he was still unavailable, Karen rummaged through her pockets until she found the crumpled card she had decided she wouldn’t need to use, today of all days at least. After dialling the mobile phone number written on the reverse, Karen found her call answered within four rings. Ignoring the traditional pleasantries, she pitched right in.
‘We need to speak more about John Staples. Now.’


Copyright Ray Sullivan 2011

The characters, places and events described in this novel are fictitious and any resemblance to persons, places or events, past or present, is coincidence.  All rights reserved

Parallel Lives is published in paperback and as an eBook

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