Michael had sat in the car park a good five minutes before
he saw Sam arrive. The car park had been quiet for the first four minutes, with
no cars coming and only two leaving. Then the mid sized, middle aged, obviously
family style car swept in front of him, passed the end row of cars and doubled
back along the next straggling line, reversing smartly into a slot about twenty
foot away from his Porsche. As the occupant, a smartly dressed thirty-something
woman, climbed out, Sam passed by, oblivious to the sports car, following
virtually the same route as the family car parked two spaces down. As Michael
leant towards the door release handle he stopped as he saw something he hadn’t
expected. The woman had locked her door, admired herself in the reflection of
the driver’s window, and then checked out Sam’s car. That much hadn’t been
unusual, but then she turned and, clearly from Michael’s viewing position, she
pretended to lock the already locked door. And now she was walking over to him.
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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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