The Dinner Guest by B Walter (best short books to read txt) 📕

intervention may be – I stand up. ‘I can’t do this,’ I say, knowing my voice sounds weak, like an emotional teenager. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘Sit down,’ my father says sternly.

Peter stands up opposite me and puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘Charles, my dear, please take a seat so we can discuss how we can help you. We’re not stupid. We know something happened the other night that you’re not telling us, that you’re trying to hide from the police. The point your father and I are trying to make is that we can get one step ahead and work out a plan of action.’

I move back in order to get his hand off my shoulder. Being touched by someone I hardly know – someone like him – sickens me. ‘Get off me,’ I say, suddenly angry. ‘You may have needed my father’s help to escape prison, but that’s probably because you’re guilty as fuck.’

My mother stands up now. ‘Please, Charles, just sit down so we can sort this out before it gets out of control.’

I ignore her and start to walk towards the door. ‘I’ll see you back at Wilton Crescent,’ I say as I leave. ‘Enjoy the rest of your little gathering.’

‘Charles,’ my father’s voice cuts through the darkness of the hallway, ‘you’ve made a number of serious errors already regarding this business. Please don’t add another to the list.’

I keep silent as I step through the front door and allow it to clatter shut behind me. I see Malcolm look up as I come into view and go to open the car door, but I turn on my heel and walk away from him and the house in the direction of the Thames.

I walk for about ten minutes down the road that snakes along the river towards Chelsea. When I reach the lower edge of Belgravia, I take a right turn down some steps that lead to the remnants of the old Grosvenor canal. There I sit and put my head in my hands, light from the moon reflecting on the surface of the water, flickering just out of the corner of my eye. I know I’ve been stupid. I know I’ve made mistakes. And, worst of all, I know everything my father has said tonight – about me being foolish, making mistakes, failing to know what to do – is completely correct. There will probably come a time when I will need the help of him and his unsavoury acquaintances. It sounds like he and my mother may have already figured out what really happened that night. And it won’t be long before the police do too.

Chapter Twenty Rachel

Seven months to go

‘Why were you crying by the photocopiers?’

The assistant head of the PR and marketing department at Streamline, Edward Rex, lounged back on his cream desk-chair, his expression showing not a jot of sympathy.

I sniffed, dabbing at my eyes with a tissue that really should be binned and replaced. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been having a bit of a tough time of late. Just … well, Christmas was a bit difficult.’ His expression remained blank, although he moved his hand across his face to brush a flop of his red hair away from his eyes. When he didn’t reply, I added, ‘Just personal reasons.’ I hoped he’d think it was boyfriend trouble or something. My dealings with Edward had been infrequent and brief up until this point, and I’d been embarrassed when he’d discovered me sobbing whilst printing off copies of a press release.

‘I know this job probably isn’t very riveting for you, Raquel, and I’m not going to lie to you, you’re only here because Sophia was dead-set on appointing you. Why that is, I haven’t yet found out. But – let me put this politely – you just don’t seem like the Streamline type. You don’t really make an effort’ – he used this moment to look up and down at my grey skirt, second-hand white blouse and dark-grey cardigan – ‘nor do you show much interest in beauty or make-up.’

This was unfair. I did use make-up – a little at least – and it was hard to show interest in lip balm or eye liner when all I was doing was stapling together meeting notes or throwing out old paperwork from office cupboards.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. It was all I could manage.

‘In a nutshell, Raquel, I think maybe this industry isn’t for you. My wife’s brother was much the same – had no aptitude for an office environment.’

Was he sacking me? Surely it couldn’t be as easy as that, I thought. Not while Sophia was away. I took a deep breath and was about to try to gather my thoughts together when there was a light tap on the door.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt but I was looking for— Ah, there you are!’

I saw Edward’s eyes widen and I turned round to see Meryl standing in the doorway, looking as stylish as ever in a spotless knee-length cream coat and holding onto a very expensive-looking handbag. ‘So lovely to see you Rachel. I was actually just looking for you.’ She was smiling pleasantly and looked as calm and collected as someone receiving guests in their own front room. She walked into the office without being invited and Edward stood up instantly. ‘Meryl, I didn’t realise you were paying us a visit today.’

Meryl smiled wider. ‘Do you know, Edward, I really have been missing the office lately. I’ve always flirted with the idea of coming back to play a more day-to-day role in the running of the place. But, I suppose, I’ve probably got used to living a life of semi-leisure.’

She came over and took the seat next to mine, setting her handbag in her lap. Edward sat back down without a word. ‘Do you know what my father said to me when I was twelve?’ Meryl continued. ‘I was growing up on Long Island and had probably got too used