An excerpt from “Sunday in New York”

Now available on Amazon at:  https://amzn.to/2H7ALs8

…

Williams’ Restaurant, East 65th Street, New York, Saturday, 8:00 p.m.

We met the Blaine’s at Williams’, a rather upmarket restaurant that the Blaine’s frequently visited, and had recommended.

Of course, during the taxi ride there, Alison reminded me that with my new job, we would be able to go to many more places like Williams’.  It was, at worst, more emotional blackmail, because as far as Alison was concerned, we were well on our way to posh restaurants, the Trump Tower Apartments, and the trappings of the ‘executive set’.

It would be a miracle if I didn’t strangle Elaine before the night was over.  It was she who had filled Alison’s head with all this stuff and nonsense.

Aside from the half frown half-smile, Alison was looking stunning.  It was months since she had last dressed up, and she was especially wearing the dress I’d bought her for our 5th anniversary that cost a month’s salary.  On her, it was worth it, and I would have paid more if I had to.  She had adored it, and me, for a week or so after.

For tonight, I think I was close to getting back on that pedestal.

She had the looks and figure to draw attention, the sort movie stars got on the red carpet, and when we walked into the restaurant, I swear there were at least five seconds silence, and many more gasps.

Even I had a sudden loss of breath earlier in the evening when she came out of the dressing room.  Once more I was reminded of how lucky I was that she had agreed to marry me.  Amid all those self-doubts, I couldn’t believe she had loved me when there were so many others ‘out there’ who were more appealing.

Elaine was out of her seat and came over just as the Head Waiter hovered into sight.  She personally escorted Alison to the table, allowing me to follow like the Queen’s consort, while she and Alison basked in the admiring glances of the other patrons.

More than once I heard the muted question, “Who is she?”

Jimmy stood, we shook hands, and then we sat together.  It was not the usual boy, girl, boy, girl seating arrangement.  Jimmy and I on one side and Elaine and Alison on the other.

The battle lines were drawn.

Jimmy was looking fashionable, with the permanent blade one beard, unkempt hair, and designer dinner suit that looked like he’d slept in it.  Alison insisted I wear a tuxedo, and I looked like the proverbial penguin or just a thinner version of Alfred Hitchcock.

The bow tie had been slightly crooked, but just before we stepped out she had straightened it.  And took the moment to look deeply into my soul.  It was one of those moments when words were not necessary.

Then it was gone.

I relived it briefly as I sat and she looked at me.  A penetrating look that told me to ‘behave’.

When we were settled, Elaine said, in that breathless, enthusiastic manner of hers when she was excited, “So, Harry, you are finally moving up.”  It was not a question, but a statement.

I was not sure what she meant by ‘finally’ but I accepted it with good grace.  Sometimes Elaine was prone to using figures of speech I didn’t understand.  I guessed she was talking about the new job.  “It was supposed to be a secret.”

She smiled widely.  “There are no secrets between Al and I, are there Al?”

I looked at ‘Al’ and saw a brief look of consternation.

I was not sure Alison liked the idea of being called Al.  I tried it once and was admonished.  But it was interesting her ‘best friend forever’ was allowed that distinction when I was not.  It was, perhaps, another indicator of how far I’d slipped in her estimation.

Perhaps, I thought, it was a necessary evil.  As I understood it, the Blaine’s were our mentors at the Trump Tower, because they didn’t just let ‘anyone’ in.  I didn’t ask if the Blaine’s thought we were just ‘anyone’ before I got the job offer.

And then there was that look between Alison and Elaine, quickly stolen before Alison realized I was looking at both of them.  I was out of my depth, in a place I didn’t belong, with people I didn’t understand.  And yet, apparently, Alison did.  I must have missed the memo.

“No,” Alison said softly, stealing a glance in my direction, “No secrets between friends.”

No secrets.  Her look conveyed something else entirely.

The waiter brought champagne, Krug, and poured glasses for each of us.  It was not the cheap stuff, and I was glad I brought a couple of thousand dollars with me.  We were going to need it.

Then, a toast.

To a new job and a new life.

“When did you decide?”  Elaine was effusive at the best of times, but with the champagne, it was worse.

Alison had a strange expression on her face.  It was obvious she had told Elaine it was a done deal, even before I’d made up my mind.  Perhaps she’d assumed I might be ‘refreshingly honest’ in front of Elaine, but it could also mean she didn’t really care what I might say or do.

Instead of consternation, she looked happy, and I realized it would be churlish, even silly if I made a scene.  I knew what I wanted to say.  I also knew that it would serve little purpose provoking Elaine, or upsetting Alison.  This was not the time or the place.  Alison had been looking forward to coming here, and I was not going to spoil it.

Instead, I said, smiling, “When I woke up this morning and found Alison missing.  If she had been there, I would not have noticed the water stain on the roof above our bed, and decide there and then how much I hated the place.” I used my reassuring smile, the one I used with the customers when all hell was breaking loose, and the forest fire was out of control.  “It’s the little things.  They all add up until one day …”  I shrugged.  “I guess that one day was today.”

I saw an incredulous look pass between Elaine and Alison, a non-verbal question; perhaps, is he for real?  Or; I told you he’d come around.

I had no idea the two were so close.

“How quaint,” Elaine said, which just about summed up her feelings towards me.  I think, at that moment, I lost some brownie points.  It was all I could come up with at short notice.

“Yes,” I added, with a little more emphasis than I wanted.  “Alison was off to get some study in with one of her friends.”

“Weren’t the two of you off to the Hamptons, a weekend with some friends?” Jimmy piped up, and immediately got the ‘shut up you fool’ look, that cut that line of conversation dead.  Someone forgot to feed Jimmy his lines.

It was followed by the condescending smile from Elaine, and “I need to powder my nose.  Care to join me, Al?”

A frown, then a forced smile for her new best friend.  “Yes.”

I watched them leave the table and head in the direction of the restroom, looking like they were in earnest conversation.  I thought ‘Al’ looked annoyed, but I could be wrong.

I had to say Jimmy looked more surprised than I did.

There was that odd moment of silence between us, Jimmy still smarting from his death stare, and for me, the Alison and Elaine show.  I was quite literally gob-smacked.

I drained my champagne glass gathering some courage and turned to him.  “By the way, we were going to have a weekend away, but this legal tutorial thing came up.  You know Alison is doing her law degree.”

He looked startled when he realized I had spoken.  He was looking intently at a woman several tables over from us, one who’d obviously forgotten some basic garments when getting dressed.  Or perhaps it was deliberate.  She’d definitely had some enhancements done.

He dragged his eyes back to me.  “Yes.  Elaine said something or other about it.  But I thought she said the tutor was out of town and it had been postponed until next week.  Perhaps I got it wrong.  I usually do.”

“Perhaps I’ve got it wrong.”  I shrugged, as the dark thoughts started swirling in my head again.  “This week or next, what does it matter?”

Of course, it mattered to me, and I digested what he said with a sinking heart.  It showed there was another problem between Alison and me; it was possible she was now telling me lies.  If what he said was true and I had no reason to doubt him, where was she going tomorrow morning, and had she really been with a friend studying today?

We poured some more champagne, had a drink, then he asked, “This promotion thing, what’s it worth?”

“Trouble, I suspect.  Definitely more money, but less time at home.”

“Oh,” raised eyebrows.  Obviously, the women had not talked about the job in front of him, or, at least, not all the details.  “You sure you want to do that?”

At last the voice of reason.  “Me?  No.”

“Yet you accepted the job.”

I sucked in a breath or two while I considered whether I could trust him.  Even if I couldn’t, I could see my ship was sinking, so it wouldn’t matter what I told him, or what Elaine might find out from him.  “Jimmy, between you and me I haven’t as yet decided one way or another.  To be honest, I won’t know until I go up to Barclay’s office and he asks me the question.”

“Barclay?”

“My boss.”

“Elaine’s doing a job for a Barclay that recently moved in the tower a block down from us.  I thought I recognized the name.”

“How did Elaine get the job?”

“Oh, Alison put him onto her.”

“When?”

“A couple of months ago.  Why?”

I shrugged and tried to keep a straight face, while my insides were churning up like the wake of a supertanker.  I felt sick, faint, and wanting to die all at the same moment.  “Perhaps she said something about it, but it didn’t connect at the time.  Too busy with work I expect.  I think I seriously need to get away for a while.”

I could hardly breathe, my throat was constricted and I knew I had to keep it together.  I could see Elaine and Alison coming back, so I had to calm down.  I sucked in some deep breaths, and put my ‘manage a complete and utter disaster’ look on my face.

And I had to change the subject, quickly, so I said, “Jimmy, Elaine told Alison, who told me, you were something of a guru of the cause and effects of the global economic meltdown.  Now, I have a couple of friends who have been expounding this theory …”

Like flicking a switch, I launched into the well-worn practice of ‘running a distraction’, like at work when we needed to keep the customer from discovering the truth.  It was one of the things I was good at, taking over a conversation and pushing it in a different direction.  It was salvaging a good result from an utter disaster, and if ever there was a time that it was required, it was right here, right now.

When Alison sat down and looked at me, she knew something had happened between Jimmy and I.  I might have looked pale or red-faced, or angry or disappointed, it didn’t matter.  If that didn’t seal the deal for her, the fact I took over the dining engagement did.  She knew well enough the only time I did that was when everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket.  She’d seen me in action before and had been suitably astonished.

But I got into gear, kept the champagne flowing and steered the conversation, as much as one could from a seasoned professional like Elaine, and, I think, in Jimmy’s eyes, he saw the battle lines and knew who took the crown on points.  Neither Elaine nor Jimmy suspected anything, and if the truth be told, I had improved my stocks with Elaine.  She was at times both surprised and interested, even willing to take a back seat.

Alison, on the other hand, tried poking around the edges, and, once when Elaine and Jimmy had got up to have a cigarette outside, questioned me directly.  I chose to ignore her, and pretend nothing had happened, instead of telling her how much I was enjoying the evening.

She had her ‘secrets’.  I had mine.

At the end of the evening, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I was physically sick from the pent up tension and the implications of what Jimmy had told me.  It took a while for me to pull myself together; so long, in fact, Jimmy came looking for me.  I told him I’d drunk too much champagne, and he seemed satisfied with that excuse.  When I returned, both Alison and Elaine noticed how pale I was but neither made any comment.

It was a sad way to end what was supposed to be a delightful evening, which to a large degree it was for the other three.  But I had achieved what I set out to do, and that was to play them at their own game, watching the deception, once I knew there was a deception, as warily as a cat watches its prey.

I had also discovered Jimmy’s real calling; a professor of economics at the same University Alison was doing her law degree.  It was no surprise in the end, on a night where surprises abounded, that the world could really be that small.

We parted in the early hours of the morning, a taxi whisking us back to the Lower East Side, another taking the Blaine’s back to the Upper West Side.  But, in our case, as Alison reminded me, it would not be for much longer.  She showed concern for my health, asked me what was wrong.  It took all the courage I could muster to tell her it was most likely something I ate and the champagne, and that I would be fine in the morning.

She could see quite plainly it was anything other than what I told her, but she didn’t pursue it.  Perhaps she just didn’t care what I was playing at.

And yet, after everything that had happened, once inside our ‘palace’, the events of the evening were discarded, like her clothing, and she again reminded me of what we had together in the early years before the problems had set in.

It left me confused and lost.

I couldn’t sleep because my mind had now gone down that irreversible path that told me I was losing her, that she had found someone else, and that our marriage was in its last death throes.

And now I knew it had something to do with Barclay.

© Charles Heath 2015-2020

Sunday In New York

“Betrayal” – the penultimate final draft – Day 3

I’m sure I’ve been down this road more than once, and with the same novel, but whereas the last edit, which was probably the second or third, finished up in the pile, then forgotten.

I’m doing an active update to all my works in progress, and sending them to the editor, after going through the manuscript once again, with a view to publishing.  Hopefully, before the year is out.

…

Overnight I had a brainstorm. You know how it is when you start editing, you get to the end of a chapter, and thoughts turn to the next chapter, or, quite possibly the overall structure of the book.

This part I’m working on now seems to lend itself to a separate section, and I’m tentatively calling this Part One, it will deal with a specific set of events that will lead into the start of the main story, which, at the moment will seem like we’re in a different world.

But that’s the inevitable situation when you are charting the two major characters, one who comes from the very sort of background the other aspires to get into. When we pick up his character, it’s in a place he never expected to be and has to try and move on from there.

However, I’m not even ready to edit that part of the story, and I have to get my mind back in the current game and come back to that later.

The trouble is my mind is not going to stop fretting about it, and I hope it doesn’t affect what I’m trying to edit now.

Ok, Chapter Five…

Skeletons in the closet, and doppelgangers

A story called “Mistaken Identity”

…

How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect it.

In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.

I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.

Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.

There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.

Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.

It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.

For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.

It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!

And a great idea for a story.

That story is called ‘Mistaken Identity’.

“Call me!” – a short story

You know what it’s like on Monday morning, especially if it’s very cold and the double glazing is failing miserably to keep the cold out.

It was warm under three blankets thick sheets and a doona, and I didn’t want to get up.

It doesn’t help if in the last few months, the dream job you once had turned into a drudge, and there were any number of reasons to stay home rather than go into the office. Once, that was trying to find an excuse to stay home because you’d rather go to work.

That was a long time ago or felt like it.

My cell phone vibrated; an incoming message, or more likely a reminder. I reached out into the icy wasteland that was the distance from under the covers to my phone on the bedside table. It was very cold out there, and for a moment I regretted that impulse to check.

It was a reminder; I had a meeting at HR with the manager. I had thought I might be eligible for redundancy since the company was in the throes of a cost-cutting exercise. Once I might have been apprehensive, but now, given my recent change in department and responsibility, I was kind of hoping now that it was.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Time to get up sleepy head. You have a meeting to go to, not one to be late.”

It felt strange to wake up with someone else in the bed. My luck in that department hadn’t been all that good lately, but something changed, and at the usual Friday night after-work drinks at the pub, I ran into one of the PAs I’d seen around, one who was curious to meet me as much as I was to meet her.

One thing had led to another and when I asked her if she wanted to drop in on the way home for a coffee, she did.

“I’d prefer not to. I can think of better things to do.”

“So could I but that’s not the point. Five more minutes, then I’m pushing you out.”

She snuggled into my back, and I could feel the warmth of her body, and it had the exact opposite effect than she intended. But she was right. It was important, and I had to go. But, in the meantime, it was four more minutes and counting.

When you get a call from the head of HR it usually means one of two things, a promotion, or those two dreaded words, ‘you’re fired’, though not usually said with the same dramatic effect.

This year had already been calamitous enough getting sidelined from Mergers and Acquisitions because I’d been usurped. That was the word I was going with, but it was to a certain extent, my fault. I took my eye off the ball and allowed someone else to make their case.

Of course, it helped that the person was connected to all the right people in the company, and, with the change in Chairman, it was also a matter of removing some of the people who were appointed by the previous incumbent.

I and four of my equivalent managers had been usurped and moved to places where they would have less impact. I had finished up in sales and marketing, and to be quite honest, it was such a step-down, that I had already decided to leave when the opportunity presented itself.

My assistant manager, who had already put in his resignation, was working out his final two weeks. I told him to take leave until the contract expired, but he was more dedicated than that. He had got in before me and was sitting at his desk a cup of coffee in his hand and another on the desk.

“How many days?”

“Six and counting. What about you? You should be out canvassing. There are at least three other places I know would be waiting to hear from you.”

“It’s still in the consideration phase.”

“You’re likely to get the chop anyway, with this thing you have with Sharkey.”

Sharkey was the HR manager.

“You know something I don’t?” I picked up the coffee, removed the lid, and took in the aroma.

“They’re downsizing. Broadham had decided to go on a cost-cutting exercise, and instead of the suggested efficiencies we put up last year, they’re going with people. I don’t think he quite gets it.”

“You mean my replacement doesn’t know anything about efficiency. He makes a good yes man though, telling Broadham exactly what he wants to hear.”

Broadham, the new Chairman, never did understand that people appointed to important positions needed to have the relevant qualifications and experience. My replacement had neither. That was when the employees loyal to the previous Chairman had started leaving.

We had called it death, whilst Broadham had called it natural attrition. He didn’t quite understand that so far, over 300 years of experience had left, and as much again was in the process of leaving.

“Are you going to tell Sharky you’re leaving?”

“I’ll wait and see what he has to say. I think he knows the ship is sinking.”

There wasn’t much I didn’t know about the current state of the company, and with the departures, I knew it was only a matter of time. Sharky was a good man, but he couldn’t stem the tide.

He also knew the vagaries of profits and share prices, and we had been watching the share price, and the market itself. It was teetering, and in the last few months, parcels of shares were being unloaded, not a lot at one time, but a steady trickle.

That told me that Broadham and his cronies were cashing in while the going was good, and quite possibly were about to steer the ship onto the rocks. The question was who was buying, and, after some hard research, I found to be certain board members. Why, I suspected, was to increase their holdings and leverage, but I don’t think they quite realized that there would be nothing left but worthless stock certificates.

It was evidence, when I finally left, that I would pass on to the relevant authorities.

In the meantime, I had a meeting to go to.

“Best of luck,” my assistant muttered as I passed his desk.

“If I don’t return, I will have been escorted from the building. If that happens, call me.”

It had happened before. When people were sacked, they were escorted to their office, allowed to pack their belongings, and were then escorted to the front door. It would be an ignominious end to an illustrious career, or so I’d been told by the girl who was no doubt still asleep in my bed.

She had heard the whispers.

The walk to the lift, the traversing of the four floors to the executive level, and then to the outer office where Sharkey’s PA sat took all of three minutes. I had hoped it would be longer.

“He’s waiting for you,” she said, “go on in.”

I knocked on the door, then went in, closing it behind me. “Now, sir, what on earth could you want to see me about?”


© Charles Heath 2021

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to see the planets – Episode 47

The four members of the high council – maybe

…

There was a man in a red suit, a man in a blue suit, a woman in a green suit and another woman in a grey suit.

Grey suit spoke first, “Are all you people from the earth as tiresome as you are Captain?”

She was either the lowest rank or the highest.

“We are an interesting bunch when you get to know us, which, despite this turn of events, I hope we do.  We have a predilection for interfering in matters where we see injustices.”

“Be that as it may, I would like to remind you, that what might pass as acceptable behaviour on your planet, might not be on ours.  You should be aware that in your travels, everyone you may or may not meet has their own specific rules, customs, and regulations which can and will be a lot different to yours.”

“I accept that, and in fact, in the briefing we had before leaving earth, it was impressed upon us that very premise.  And I understand that we may be seen to be interfering in matters that are not our concern.  But, and there’s always a but, that’s how we humans think and rationalise the many situations we often find ourselves in, we don’t like injustices.”

“Does what might appear an injustice to one, not be one to another?  There is ample evidence in your history that points to those overlooking so-called injustices for the greater good?”

“That may be true in the past, but we like to think we have evolved into a better civilization.  But we are not perfect, as you point out.  However, this instance does not qualify as an instance for the greater good, it is simply the selfish whim of a single person.  We have people who are supposed to set an example too and don’t, because they don’t believe the rules apply to them, and I would like to believe that you, too, would not tolerate this sort of behaviour in your leaders.  Your people have been living on our planet for some time, I gather, so you should know that.”

Blue suit had been looking rather severely at me.  “It was a mistake to let you people develop space travel capability.  Our efforts to delay it haven’t been as successful as we had anticipated.  You are not ready.”

That someone or something had been manipulating our progress would probably not come as a surprise to some back home.  My knowledge of the steps we took to get where I was now pointed to several disasters that set the whole program back nearly twenty years, if not more.

I wonder how the Admiral would react when I told him.  If I told him.

“It was inevitable, like everything we do.  Unfortunately for you, we thrive on adversity.”

“You are not the only warlike race in the galaxy you know.  You may want to hold off meeting them for as long as you can, but they know where you are, so there’s more than one inevitability.”

“By uttering those words, does that make you look more like the aggressors than us?  The thing is, we’re out her for better or for worse, and I think you know what has transpired here is an injustice, but the ramifications are unpalatable.  We have an expression; absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Blue suit looked as though he was going to explode.  “It is no use talking to these primitives.”

Grey suit glared at him.  “It is your house that is not in order, and we have tolerated it for long enough.”  She looked at her fellow members and received nods.  Blue suit disappeared, most likely transported back to the planet.

Grey suit:  “You are, using another of your sayings on earth, “treading on very thin ice.”

Green suit took up the narrative.  “We believe you would not adhere to a request to turn around and go back home, so, before you alert the galaxy that you are now participants in intergalactic exploration, take heed of this warning.  Not all species are friendly.  Most are bound by customs and rules which are nothing like yours, and it is possible you will commit the most heinous of crimes by just acting normally.

In this instance, you may have uncovered a problem that we were not aware of, and lucky for you, is a minor transgression in accordance with our customs.  We are no longer those people and will rectify the issue.  The prisoner in question will be allowed to remain on your vessel to do with as you wish.  If you are to continue your travels, I suggest you do so with caution.”

Grey suit again, “We acknowledge you are not going to go away.  So, as the first gesture of friendship between our worlds, we would like you to return the Princess to her home world, and before you do, we will provide you with an advisor to help you navigate the protocols of her world.  We will also grant two members of your crew an audience with our scribes who will give you knowledge of our worlds and people, and that of others in this galaxy.  The other ship does not get this privilege and must leave immediately.  If they do not, they will be destroyed.  There will be no negotiation on this matter.  Do you agree?”

It was probably the best we could hope for under the circumstances.

“Yes.”

Grey suit to their captain.  “I’ll leave you to work on the details.”

With that, the remaining three were gone.

…

© Charles Heath 2021-2022

“Betrayal” – the penultimate final draft – Day 4

I’m sure I’ve been down this road more than once, and with the same novel, but whereas the last edit, which was probably the second or third, finished up in the pile, then forgotten.

I’m doing an active update to all my works in progress, and sending them to the editor, after going through the manuscript once again, with a view to publishing.  Hopefully, before the year is out.

…

I’m still working on the start and it’s editing itself, so the time I spent on preparation is paying off.

I have a spare hour or two after editing the chapter and start thinking about the start of the next section. I had some hastily scribbled notes on how I think I wanted it to run, but it’s a bit wordy and needs to follow the start.

I’m going to throw the second main character in the deep end, and break his story slowly, in a series of memories. Nothing better than to be dodging bullets in the first sentence. Maybe. I’m having second thoughts about the bullets.

Maybe not, but there will be something or someone to contend with.

But, back to the start. It’s not going to be the usual interaction between the two characters, and I’m still a little unsure if the fate of either will be as I originally planned. There’s a chance something will change, but, as we all know, that might make something else planned for later, change.

Let me sleep on it, and see what I think in the morning.

The cinema of my dreams – It all started in Venice – Episode 15

A note and an opinion

…

On the way back to the hotel I thought about the idea of killing the Frenchman and dumping his body in one of the back canals.

Of course, that was the sort of unsanctioned act that quite often brought down a well-planned operation and it would not be the first time for me if that happened now.

I tried not to think about that moment in history and to this day still couldn’t say why I did it beyond the fact the person annoyed me.  Those were young and brash days, long since gone from the repertoire.

Still, if he got in the way, or was going to compromise my plan he would have to go, and those back canals were begging for new prey.

When I finally returned to the hotel, it seemed almost stuffy in the small reception area, and the woman behind the counter nodded cursorily in my direction as I passed her heading for the stairs.

She was the sort of person who would miss nothing that happened in that hotel in or out of sight.

The elevator was old and tired, and I didn’t like to advertise arriving back on the floor where my room was located. Again, another memory of a bad experience involving an elevator has made me more wary since.

The stairs, in this instance, were well maintained, without the usual squeaks and groans susceptible to any other hotel.  The fact it was only a few floors and not twenty was also a selling point.

If Juliet was waiting she’d have to be in my doorway for me to fall over her, and as I took those last few steps before the landing, I wondered if Cecilia was back in my room’ waiting for me.

If she was, and Juliet arrived that might throw that proverbial car among the pigeons.

Neither were either waiting or in my room which oddly enough seemed disappointing.  Nor was anyone else who also brought up a memory or two that I’d rather forget. 

Experience was a cruel master.

I looked out the windows over the canal, still able to be surprised by the amount of activity on the water even for that hour of the night.

In a few hours, a whole new group of people would be about those behind the scenes, delivering all manner of goods and services in those early hours before a new day began.

Behind me, there was a very light knock on the door and I swiftly crossed the room and looked in the peep-hole.

Cecilia.

I opened the door and she slipped in before I’d even got it partially open.  She was in what I would call stealth mode.

“You’re up and about late?  Nothing on for tomorrow?”

She shrugged.  “Just the usual, so it’s unlikely they’ll miss me if I’m not there’ or late.  Besides, there’s a producer I keep running into that’s beginning to be annoying.”

“I can deal with him if you want me to?”

“I can deal with him myself.  No.  It’s your girlfriend whose supposedly not your girlfriend.”

“Juliet?  She’s not…”

“Of course not, just ragging you.  She’s suddenly all apologetic, telling me how sorry she was about being catty. Then giving me a hug that was quite unsettling.  Until I realised what she was doing.”

“Not making a pass I hope.”

“It wouldn’t be the first in the last day or so.  I must have that look, whatever that look is.  No.  She gave me this.”

Cecilia held up a small folded piece of paper.

“Did you read it?”

“Do I look like the sort who would read other people’s love letters?”

I took the piece of paper and unfolded it.

It said, and reading it aloud, “I believe you know why I’m here and I can tell you it’s not what I want.  I can’t discuss this with you otherwise he’ll know, so we need another way, perhaps through Cecilia. I’m supposed to deliver you in Sorrento, so we will need a plan to keep us both safe.  Sorry for dragging your friend into this.”

“Not a love letter then.”  She sounded disappointed.  “How could she possibly know that?”

“In trying to get Larry to do something in haste which he has, it was not without its risks.  She’s smart enough, given what she knew of me then, and that Larry has me in his sights, to realise it was not coincidental when I brought his name into the conversation.”

“Forcing an issue sometimes can have unintended consequences.”

“I didn’t want to drag it out for any of us.”

“Have you considered the possibility that this might be part of Larry’s plan, after all, he did tell her to get closer by any means possible.  How much closer could she get pretending to work with you?”

A plan I considered more plausible given the hold he had over her.  Alfie would have told me if such a conversation had taken place between them, but he hadn’t which meant it may have been before she embarked for Venice. 

It made sense, from his perspective and the hold he had over her.  Doing something as reckless on her part without his knowledge defied that threat, making it very difficult for me to believe it was a legitimate offer to help.

“What would you have thought if we didn’t know what we know?”

“It’s difficult to say since I’ve never been in that situation but first thought would be to considered it’s with the customary suspicion we have to view everything with.”

“Good answer.  You’ll be coming with me and lucky for you, you will not have to play nice.”

She smiled.  “At last a role I can get my teeth into.”

“We’ll go tomorrow, so be ready to leave.  I’m sure you’ll devise a good excuse for leaving early.  And watch your back tonight they might have a little surprise in store for you.”

“Not if I stay here.  I came prepared,” showing me her pyjamas under the gym wear.

I shrugged.  The room had two beds.  “Fine.”

© Charles Heath 2022

‘What Sets Us Apart’ – A beta readers view

There’s something to be said for a story that starts like a James Bond movie, throwing you straight in the deep end, a perfect way of getting to know the main character, David, or is that Alistair?

A retired spy, well not so much a spy as a retired errand boy, David’s rather wry description of his talents, and a woman that most men would give their left arm for, not exactly the ideal couple, but there is a spark in a meeting that may or may not have been a setup.

But as the story progressed, the question I kept asking myself was why he’d bother.

And, page after unrelenting page, you find out.

Susan is exactly the sort of woman to pique his interest.  Then, inexplicably, she disappears.  That might have been the end to it, but Prendergast, that shadowy enigma, David’s ex-boss who loves playing games with real people, gives him an ultimatum, find her or come back to work.

Nothing like an offer that’s a double-edged sword!

A dragon for a mother, a sister he didn’t know about, Susan’s BFF who is not what she seems or a friend indeed, and Susan’s father who, up till David meets her, couldn’t be less interested, his nemesis proves to be the impossible dream, and he’s always just that one step behind.

When the rollercoaster finally came to a halt, and I could start breathing again, it was an ending that was completely unexpected.

I’ve been told there’s a sequel in the works.

Bring it on!

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The book can be purchased here:  http://amzn.to/2Eryfth

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“Betrayal” – the penultimate final draft – Day 4

I’m sure I’ve been down this road more than once, and with the same novel, but whereas the last edit, which was probably the second or third, finished up in the pile, then forgotten.

I’m doing an active update to all my works in progress, and sending them to the editor, after going through the manuscript once again, with a view to publishing.  Hopefully, before the year is out.

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I’m still working on the start and it’s editing itself, so the time I spent on preparation is paying off.

I have a spare hour or two after editing the chapter and start thinking about the start of the next section. I had some hastily scribbled notes on how I think I wanted it to run, but it’s a bit wordy and needs to follow the start.

I’m going to throw the second main character in the deep end, and break his story slowly, in a series of memories. Nothing better than to be dodging bullets in the first sentence. Maybe. I’m having second thoughts about the bullets.

Maybe not, but there will be something or someone to contend with.

But, back to the start. It’s not going to be the usual interaction between the two characters, and I’m still a little unsure if the fate of either will be as I originally planned. There’s a chance something will change, but, as we all know, that might make something else planned for later, change.

Let me sleep on it, and see what I think in the morning.

‘The Devil You Don’t’ – A beta reader’s view

It could be said that of all the women one could meet, whether contrived or by sheer luck, what are the odds it would turn out to be the woman who was being paid a very large sum to kill you.

John Pennington is a man who may be lucky in business, but not so lucky in love. He has just broken up with Phillipa Sternhaven, the woman he thought was the one, but relatives and circumstances, and perhaps because she was a ‘princess’, may also have contributed to the end result.

So, what do you do when you are heartbroken?

That is a story that slowly unfolds, from the first meeting with his nemesis on Lake Geneva, all the way to a hotel room in Sorrento, where he learns the shattering truth.

What should have been solace after disappointment, turns out to be something else entirely, and from that point, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He suddenly realizes his so-called friend Sebastian has not exactly told him the truth about a small job he asked him to do, the woman he is falling in love with is not quite who she says she is, and he is caught in the middle of a war between two men who consider people becoming collateral damage as part of their business.

The story paints the characters cleverly displaying all their flaws and weaknesses. The locations add to the story at times taking me back down memory lane, especially to Venice where, in those back streets I confess it’s not all that hard to get lost.

All in all a thoroughly entertaining story with, for once, a satisfying end.

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Available on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/2Xyh1ow

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