A Chance Encounter by Rae Shaw (best ereader for academics .TXT) 📕

The telephone buzzed. Mark was calling. Now she was fielding both men at the same time.

‘Mark. Hi,’ she said. ‘Did you have a good time?’

‘Yes. Very, in fact. Immeasurably better than I anticipated.’ He sounded chirpy. It had to have been a good night for him; Mark preferred measurables. ‘How did your wedding go?’

She stared at her iPad. Freddie wasn't always free. In fact, getting hold of him recently was often a struggle.

‘I got exceedingly drunk. I'm now very hungover.’

He chuckled. ‘Comes with it.’

‘I guess.’

‘Can we meet? I've got an idea to help you save some money.’

She pushed the iPad off her lap. ‘Sure. I'm all for more money.’

‘Good.’

They made arrangements to meet at his place. He was specific about that.

‘I know you're not interested, or so you say, but there's a chance I might be getting help with Dad's appeal. Somebody who has connections.’

‘You're right, I'm not interested. Don't expect me to contribute to the funds.’

‘I guessed you'd say that. Oh, something else,’ said Mark. ‘Jackson Haynes, my boss, has invited us to his club one evening. Don't know when. Soon, possibly.’

How awful for both of them. If they shared one thing, it was a dislike of loudness and brash behaviour. Mark used to do Mrs Haynes's accounts. Ellen assumed her presence was important to Mark, if only because his boss had commanded it, and who said no to Jackson?

‘Jackson Haynes is taking a keen interest in you. Us. Why?’

A sigh and a pause. ‘Don't know.’

Liar. He had some inkling as to the reason. ‘He doesn't know about Dad, does he?’

‘I doubt it. I've not said anything. He might know about Haydocks though. It would be on my resume.’

‘Haydocks?’

‘Where I worked as an accountant after I graduated from Oxford.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It didn't exactly end well. It's why I left Manchester and came here to London.’

‘Shit happens,’ she said. What did he do – sleep with the wrong person? Forget to send off his tax returns? She discounted the second silly idea, but the first was definitely in Mark's territory. When they were kids, she had shared an adjoining wall with Mark's bedroom and what Deidre didn't know was best kept that way. The walls might not have had eyes, but Ellen had ears.

‘Yeah.’ He sighed. ‘I fucked up.’

‘I'm sorry.’ What else could she say?

‘I wanted a promotion. It went very wrong. It's probably wise, Ellen, to never take anyone at face value.’

‘Jackson Haynes included?’ And our father, what of his worth? She held her tongue. She had said it all before.

There was a pause. She’d hit another raw nerve. Everything she said today dropped mini bombshells on other people's sensibilities.

‘Probably. He's got something on me, Ellen. I'm sure of it.’

‘Good or bad?’

‘It's not easy to answer. Sometimes doing the right thing looks bad.’ Mark sighed again; he sounded like a deflating balloon. ‘Don't worry, Ellen. It's nothing to do with you. Or Dad. It's just business. Money. Fucking money.’

‘Why not leave? Get another job?’

‘I don't want to. I like what I do. It's a dream job for me. In any case, I'm probably being paranoid about Haynes. Mum keeps—’

‘Nope. Don't bring her up.’ Ellen wasn't that patient. Mum was always lurking behind Mark's woes, just like Dad was behind hers.

He had to stop sighing. She found it irritatingly self-serving.

‘Let's leave it at that. See you soon.’ He rung off without waiting for a goodbye.

She threw the phone onto a cushion. ‘Damn it.’

On the iPad she typed a message. I'm glad you think I made the right decision. Because it feels like nothing I do is right.

What's gone wrong?

Mark. Keeping secrets.

About the appeal?

No. Although he's getting help from somebody.

Really?

It won't make a difference. What he's more worried about is his new boss.

Haynes?

Yeah. And something to do with the last company he worked for. Haydocks.

There was a lengthy delay before Freddie dropped the next line.

Sorry. Phone call. Always somebody wanting my advice. He added a smiley. Haydocks? Not heard of it.

His last job in Manchester. He was very cagey about it. Said he'd fucked up on something and had to leave.

Mark must be battling his conscience. You kept your dignity and resisted temptation last night. Be proud.

The word proud jumped out of the screen. He was labouring a point.

She clutched her iPad. Another message from Freddie popped up, following straight on from the last. He had written a sermon about the importance of virginity. It wasn't the first time he’d lectured on the subject of playing safe, but he hadn’t framed it with references to purity and abstinence. He came across as more sanctimonious than ever.

Freddie the priest was back. For fuck's sake, why now? She wished she had never told him. It wasn't about sex. Didn't he get it? She could so easily tell terrible fibs just to have somebody talk to her, touch her, heal her fractured heart. Her anger spilt over, down her arms into her fingertips.

I'm getting pissed again. You can't stop me. Can you?

Freddie?

An hour passed. She had drunk half a bottle of wine, which on top of a hangover was having a peculiar effect on her vision and stomach.

I can't, he replied, finally. I can worry about you. Wish you were here with me. I would hug you and tell you it’s going to be fine, Ellen. Everything will be fine. Somebody special is out there waiting for you.

~ * ~

Ellen arrived at Mark's apartment in a sequinned dress and the same high-heels she'd worn to the wedding. The silver necklace adorning her neck had been a gift from Uncle Tim. She rarely took it out of its box; it