Books written by Ray Sullivan

Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Parallel Lives chapter 61

Michael had booked into the motel located three miles from the rendezvous. The twin bedded room, paid again using John's credit card, was substantially more basic than Michael was used to when on DTRU business. Leaving John in the room Michael returned to the rental car and drove the final few miles to the address supplied by Karen.
Standing outside the crumbling facade, lit by wall mounted halogen spotlights all around the frontage, Michael drew a deep breath and approached the front door.
The nursing auxiliary approached the dozing woman, shaking her shoulder gently.
'Mrs Howells,' she said, 'you have a visitor.' Jack's mother opened her eyes, a flash of anger flickering in them.
'It's Miss Howells, how many times do I have to tell you people? Is it my son?' she asked. The nurse shook her head.
'No, he say he knows your daughter-in-law. His name is Michael Watson,' she said.
'I've never heard of him,' answered Jack's mother truthfully.
'He said that,' replied the nurse, fussing over the cushions, 'he has asked to speak with you. Would you like me to send him away?'
'No, I'll see him. Send him in.'
Michael looked around the warm, plush sitting room, taking in the various dozing people dotted around. In one corner, roughly where the nursing auxiliary had indicated, sat a woman sat upright, glowering.
'Mrs Howells?' he asked. The sudden flush of anger took him by surprise.
'What is it you want, Mr Watson,' she snapped, 'I understand you are acquainted with my daughter-in-law,' she continued. Michael sat down carefully in front of the ageing woman.
'Your son and daughter-in-law are visiting me in Bristol, on business. I believe they are travelling down as we speak and may even arrive in the district any time now,' said Michael, desperately hoping that this battleaxe didn't want him to supply any proof of knowing her son or Karen. He was acutely aware that he didn't know her son’s first name, where he lived, whether he had children, the kind of things a mother might well expect their child's acquaintances to be aware of.
'It's news to me,' she said, rattling the newspaper lain on her lap, 'but then again I seem to be the last to know whenever they do decide to call these days. Anyway, if they have business with you, why are you here telling me?,' she asked.
'I don't think I told them where I would be, I'm from out of town and hadn’t booked my accommodation last time we spoke,' Michael stated truthfully, 'I remembered that they had told me that you lived here so I wondered if you could pass on my contact details when they turn up?'
'Why don't you phone and tell them yourself,' she asked, 'they've both got mobile phones. I've got their numbers somewhere if you need them,' she said. Michael had expected this.
'I've tried them both, either they're switched off or they are travelling through a poor reception area,' he said, only lying about attempting to contact them. 'If I give you the contact details of my accommodation, could you pass it on when they arrive, please,' asked Michael.
Jack's mother scrutinised the face of the young man carefully. She had half believed this man to be some sort of confidence trickster, was certain that he had to have the silver tongue to get inside the home as easily as he had. Residents had experienced greater problems getting in, she thought. However, this offer of leaving contact details must be safe, if they didn't turn up, or if they did but denied any knowledge then she needn't pass the information on.
'Very well Mr Watson, give me the details and I'll pass them on when they turn up.'


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

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