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.She sipped her coffee and pretended to look out of the window when really she was straining to hear what he was saying.He was muttering, his sentences short and sharp.‘Of course not,’ he said, turning to look at her.He walked further down the hallway until she couldn’t see him, obviously keen to keep his conversation private.She opened the fridge and looked at some limp-looking lettuce, a packet of wholemeal pitta breads, a tub of tzatziki and half a pint of milk.Toni had offered to take her to the shops and had even dropped round a food parcel earlier in the week but it was all gone.She couldn’t bring herself to go to the supermarket.Too many people.She shut the fridge with a bang.‘Sorry about that,’ he said.‘Is everything all right.?’ she asked.His eyes widened and his mouth opened but he didn’t speak.‘Never mind.You said I had options,’ she said, watching as his face settled.‘Do you want to sit down?’ he asked, pointing to the chair next to him.‘I have some paperwork relating to restraining orders and injunctions for you,’ he said, handing her a few sheets of paper.Her breath caught in her throat.At the top of the page, printed in capital letters, was a name.‘Malvern Turner,’ she said, looking over at Mike.‘Yes.do you recognize the name?’ he asked.Sarah shook her head.‘No.I don’t.who is he? How does he know me?’ The name was bouncing around her brain like a dodgem car.‘According to the suspect, you met last year at an advertising firm in Camden.CBS Outdoor.’She stared at her hands, trying to remember.‘CBS.I had a job there in July last year, maybe June.’ Questions flooded her mouth.‘Does he work there? Did I photograph him? I don’t remember him.’‘It’s all right, Sarah,’ he said, pulling the paperwork away from her.‘He was painting some of the offices.he says.There’s no reason you should remember him.’She shook her head again.It was impossible to believe that something so insignificant, a job she barely remembered, could have led to all of this.She searched her memories for something, anything, but nothing came to her.All she had was a faceless name to go with her fear.‘Please carry on,’ she said, hearing the defeated tone in her voice.‘OK,’ he said, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.The pine creaked.His shirt had come untucked on one side.She caught a glimpse of his stomach.‘Let’s talk through your options,’ he said, resting his arm on the table, covering the papers.‘I know what my options are,’ she said, rubbing her eyes, trying to erase the ache building up behind them.‘I just need someone I trust to tell me what I should do.’ A flush of embarrassment heated her neck.She was saying she trusted him.And she did.She braved another glance in his direction.He seemed as struck by her words as she felt.‘Absolutely,’ he said, nodding.When he didn’t elaborate, Sarah stood, pushed her shoulders back, walked over to her desk, picked up a pad and pen and returned to her seat.‘OK,’ she said, sitting down, ‘I’m ready.’ She wasn’t going to let a name unglue her.Nothing had changed.For the next thirty minutes Sarah listened and took notes.No one could accuse Mike of skipping the details.He showed her the forms she needed, where to get others, how to fill them in and when she needed to send them.As he spoke she found herself staring at his mouth.She was nodding, trying to concentrate on his words, but she was immediately drawn back to his lips.When she had first met him she had thought his features almost cartoonish in their extreme.But now, looking at him, she could see that, in fact, his face had perfect symmetry.His eyes were set quite wide apart, his nose refined and centred.His cheek muscles seemed to flex with each syllable when he spoke.It was only when he began talking about court appearances that Sarah really tuned in to what he was saying, rather than how he looked when he was saying it.‘I have to go to court?’ she asked, her voice heavy with the panic that had just struck her, off guard.He held out his hands.‘It’s OK, Sarah.You don’t have to.The judge will examine the petition beforehand.Even if you decided you did want to attend, the defendant would be behind a Perspex screen [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]