The Sleeping Truth : A Romantic Thriller (Omnibus Edition containing both Book One and Book Two)

by Irvine, Ian C. P.

  We drink some whisky.

  Guy walks past and shuts the kitchen door behind me.

  “Andrew, listen I need to tell you something,” he says, lowering his voice. “This Saturday I’m going to take Sal out for a big, fancy meal in London. I’ve got seats at the Ivy, and then after our meal we’re going to the theatre. It’s going to be a big night out.”

  “So, what, you want me to make myself scarce on Saturday night, and not come home till really late?” I say, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

  “No, don’t worry about that,” Guy replies, sitting down opposite me at the kitchen table. “I’m going to spend the night at Sal’s flat. It’s easier to get back to after a late night out, and Mandy won’t be there this weekend. What I wanted to say was that I’m going to be leaving on Sunday night for the business trip to the States, and I won’t be back till the next Sunday morning. I just wanted to ask you to look after Sal whilst I’m gone. Give her a call during the week to make sure she’s not lonely or something. She’s having a really stressful time at work at the moment, and she’s behaving a little strangely recently… Differently...”

  “What do you mean? Is there something wrong?” I ask.

  “No. Nothing like that. Everything’s fine. It’s just that I worry about her, and I wish I wasn’t going next week, especially so soon after this Saturday night.”

  “So what’s so special about this Saturday?” I ask, intrigued.

  “Nothing,” Guy replies, but I can tell immediately that he is lying. “Nothing at all…Anyway, we’ll talk some more tomorrow night over a few beers when we go out, and I’ll see you on Sunday before I leave? Okay?”

  “Sure,” I reply, nodding in affirmation.

  We finish off the whisky, and I go back to my room. A little later, I am putting some clothes into my cupboard and tidying up in my room when Sal appears in my doorway.

  “Andrew?” she asks, speaking quietly and suddenly coming over as if she is really shy. “I really would like to talk to you sometime…”

  “Sure, no problem. I’m sorry. I haven’t been avoiding you, it’s just that everything in London is so fast paced and I’ve been busy the whole time. What do want to talk about?” I ask.

  “About Guy,…and me…Do you not think that he has been behaving a little strange recently. Different than normal?” she asks me suddenly, her eyebrows lifting up inquisitorially.

  I laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” she asks.

  “Nothing.” I reply.

  “So when can we talk?” Sal asks, sounding nervous.

  “How about next Thursday night? Why don’t we meet up for a drink after work?”

  “That sounds good. But don’t tell Guy? Okay?”

  “Why not? I don’t want…” I start to protest, not wanting to end up a piggy-in-the-middle hiding things from either one of them, but before I can finish, Guy appears in the doorway and wraps his arm around Sal’s waist.

  “Bedtime. Come on, Sal, I’m knackered.”

  As I say good night to them both again, I can’t help but feel that Sal looks quite sad. For a moment I think that I can see something in her face, but then it is gone, and she is smiling again.

  “Night, Andrew,” she says, closing the door after her.

  Ten minutes later, I’m also in bed. For a while I wonder what it is that Sal is still so keen to talk to me about, and I feel a little guilty that I haven’t made the time for her yet. Then I turn off the light and go to sleep.

  .

  .

  ..

  Chapter Fourteen

  Friday Afternoon

  ..

  ..

  Halfway through the afternoon Guy calls to tell me he won’t be able to meet me for a drink tonight after all. “I’m way behind with work and I still have to pack,” Guy says, apologising.

  “Okay, don’t worry about it. If you’re not coming out I’ll probably just go to the Lemon Tree and see if anyone else from work turns up there. Are you going round to Sal’s later tonight?”

  “No, I’ll be here. I just called Sal, and told her I’m staying home, and she said she’s going to go out for drinks with some people from her work,” he replies. “And don’t forget that I won’t be back tomorrow night, because I’m taking Sal out for a big evening out. Oh, and in case you’ve forgotten, tomorrow is the Live8 concert.”

  “Yes, I know. I even tried to get tickets, but there was no chance. Okay, I’ll see you later, and maybe we can hang out tomorrow and watch Live8 together? Adios.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. Adios Amigo.”

  I’m really looking forward to tomorrow’s Live8 concert. I can only remember snippets of the original Live Aid from when I was a kid, but my dad used to go on about it all the time. “The best concert I ever saw,” is how he used to describe it.

  I look at my watch. It’s three thirty. Up till now the day has been dragging, but at last the end is in sight, and already I can feel the excitement and anticipation building, wondering what another Friday night in London will bring. Tonight is going to be special. I know it. I can feel it in my bones. Something big is going to happen this evening, and I can’t wait.

  I suppose that’s why London has become the most amazing place to live in the whole world. Each weekend is like the spin of a roulette wheel, and by 7pm on a Friday night, all the tubes and buses on the way into the city are full of people coming into town to throw the dice, or spin the wheel of life, and see what they can win for the evening. It’s the unpredictability that makes it so exciting. At the start of the evening, no one knows just what is going to happen over the next few hours. That’s why everyone wants to live in London. Everyone. And I am here.

  ..

  It’s now three-forty. The phone rings.

  “Eurocom, Andrew Jardine speaking,” I answer absentmindedly.

  “Hi Andrew. It’s Gail.”

  “Hi Gail, how are you?” I reply.

  “I’m fine. Listen, I know you’re angry with me about the other night, but I honestly have a very good excuse why I didn’t show up. Something came up and I couldn’t get away.…honestly, I’m really sorry.”

  She sounds sincere.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry about the other night. I accept your apology. You’re forgiven.”

  “Good. But honestly, …I am sorry,” she says, sounding genuinely relieved that she is forgiven. “I was worried that you weren’t going to talk to me again. Andrew, I was wondering if you were going to go to the Lemon Tree after work? I’m thinking of going, and if you go too, then maybe I’ll get the chance to buy you a drink and tell you exactly why I stood you up, I mean,…kept you waiting.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” I reply, and then say goodbye and hang up.

  It’s three forty-nine. That’s one hour and eleven minutes left until the weekend.

  I decide to kill some more time by fetching myself a cup of tea, and walk around to the kitchen area nearest my desk. There are four such areas on our floor in the different corners of the building, each providing about ten different types of coffee from a state of the art coffee-vending machine, or your choice of a variety of fancy teas. Preferring the old fashioned way, I fill a kettle, pull a cup from the cupboard and drop a tea-bag into it in preparation. Knowing that a watched kettle never boils, I fold my arms across my chest and look out the door onto the floor outside, casually observing the people at their desks. Already I can detect that the Friday evening effect has spread throughout the whole floor, and people are beginning to push back from their desks, chat with their colleagues, or surf the net, checking out bars or restaurants for this evenings activities.

  It is five past four.

  A woman walks past the entrance to the kitchen without noticing me hovering inside. I follow the wiggle of her bottom as she walks past, admiring the curve of her legs and her fit, sexy body. She stops at a water fountain, fills a cup and starts walking back towards me. It’s Dianne.

  She sees me,
smiles and comes into the kitchen.

  “Andrew, hi. How are you?” she asks, beaming.

  “Fine. And you?” I reply, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and a little embarrassed.

  “Good. So, where have you been hiding then? I haven’t seen you around recently?”

  “Nowhere in particular. Just working hard. Trying to get my feet under the table, I suppose.”

  “Working hard? Yes, I heard about you falling asleep the other day. That was funny,” she laughs.

  I wince. She moves a little closer towards me, filling her cup up with some more water from the sink. I look at her and a sudden mental image appears in my mind of her lying naked beside me in her bed, immediately followed by a twinge of sexual excitement.

  Someone else walks into the kitchen, says hi, and then turns towards the coffee machine and starts to fiddle with the controls.

  Dianne looks at me, and I look back, the person beside us still fiddling with the machine. There is a moment of confusion where perhaps one of us should say something, but during which I cannot decide what I want to say. Instead, I pour boiling water over a tea bag, add some milk and stir it with a spoon.

  Dianne walks towards the door of the kitchen, hesitating for a second.

  “So,” she says, “Are you going out after work?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t decided,” I remain non-committal.

  “Well, if you go clubbing, maybe I’ll see you later?” her meaning obvious.

  “Perhaps,” I reply as Dianne turns and walks back down the corridor.

  The person at the coffee machine finishes fiddling with the controls, picks up his drink and turns around, smiles, and walks past me out of the kitchen. I follow him out without speaking, wondering why he is smiling so much, almost as if he is smirking or laughing at me. Was it something Dianne or I said?

  I get back to my desk and sit down. It’s ten minutes past four.

  ..

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  ..

  At twenty minutes past five, I am standing at the bar of the Lemon Tree, ordering the first round of drinks for those that have already arrived from the office. I’ve just met Tom from accounts, Marsha from Shipping, Sandra from Sales, and Ben, my colleague from Product Marketing. By six o’clock the group has grown to about ten people, and by seven there are around thirty of us dominating the pub and separated into four or five small huddles. Ben is just about to order our group’s third round, when I spot Gail talking to some others in one of the groups closest to the door. She sees me looking over at her, smiles but then returns to her conversation.

  Some people are talking about going to the sit-down area in the room upstairs to order some Thai, and I decide to join them to get some food inside me before what could be a heavy night of drinking. We manage to find a few spare tables and soon we are all busy ordering a mixture of Phad Thais, or red, green and yellow curries.

  “Aha, you’re going for the green curry,” Gail’s voice chirps in, as she pulls up a seat and sits down beside me. “Good choice. It’s addictive.”

  Very soon the room upstairs is full of people from Euro.com, and everyone is laughing, joking and shouting loudly at each other in an effort to make themselves heard. A real party atmosphere is developing.

  “This is great,” I say to Gail. “Is it always like this?”

  “Pretty much. But I think tonight is a bit better than most. There is definitely something in the air. It’s summer, the company is doing well, bonus time is coming up, and we’re all young, footloose and fancy free. There’s nothing better than being young and single in London.”

  “But you’re not single,” I let slip out, before I can correct myself.

  “Oh, yes I am!” Ben chirps in from the other side of the table, raising his glass and chinking it off mine as I return the salute. “And tonight I’m going to bloody well take full advantage of the situation. I’m going to “Downtown”, my favourite club in London. You’re all welcome to come with me if you want?...In fact, why don’t we try to get a big crowd of us going? It would be great! Are you up for it?” he asks, looking at Gail first, then me and the others.

  “Where is it?” Gail asks.

  “Near the Angel tube station on the Northern Line. It’s the best club I know and we could be there in half an hour.”

  “Okay, I’m in,” I reply, looking at Gail, hoping that she will say yes without feeling the necessity to bring her boyfriend Luke along.

  “I don’t know. I would like to come, ” she replies, “…but I’ll just have to call Luke first to see if he is okay,” she adds, almost as if she can read my thoughts. “Maybe he’ll want to join us.”

  As Ben starts to spread the word around the room, Gail gets out her mobile and walks out of the room. I watch her leave, admiring the way she is dressed, and perhaps starting to wish for something that I can’t have.

  She returns ten minutes later saying, “No, Luke doesn’t want to come. I guess it’s just us.”

  “And them…” I say waving at the rest of the room, happy and relieved that Luke is staying at home. “Almost everyone else wants to come too.”

  ..

  ---------------------------

  ..

  It’s gone ten o’clock when we all begin to file our way into the downstairs club, each forking out eight pounds at the door for admission, dropping off our coats and then heading straight to the bar. Although its relatively early for a London club, the place is already packed, a mass of alcohol fuelled people, jumping up and down to the pulsing music.

  Ben thrusts a twenty pound note into my hand, and grabs Gail, heading off to the dance floor shouting, “Here, you get my round, Gail owes me a dance.”

  After getting drinks for myself, Gail and Ben, I stand and chat to Tom and Marsha for a while, almost shouting at each other in an attempt to make ourselves heard over the loud music. When Gail returns with Ben, I let her have a few mouthfuls of her drink, before whisking her away for my turn to dance with her and the opportunity to be alone together.

  “Have you been here before?” she asks me, as we weave our way through everyone, trying to find a small gap where we can fit in and start to dance.

  “Nope. First time,” I reply. “But I’ve only been in London for two weeks so I’ve hardly been out anywhere.” I reply, bending forward and talking into her ear so she can hear me. She smells wonderful.

  We find a space on the dance floor, turn to each other and start dancing. For a few moments we don’t say anything, just moving with the music and looking over to each other every now and again and smiling. She dances well, and as she dips and spins in front of me, flicking her head and her hair from side to side, I think of Luke again and question whether I should be wasting my time getting to know a girl who is out of bounds, something which can only result in trouble.

  The music begins to change, and Gail stops dancing, wrapping her arm around mine and leading me off the dance floor. As we near the others, I notice that Ben is looking at us both, his gaze shifting quickly from me to Gail, where it lingers. It’s then that I see the way he is watching her, and I recognise the interest in his eyes.

  “Back in a moment,” I say to Gail . “Time to find the gents.” And with that, I lean past Ben, pick up my pint from the bar where I left it, and disappear back into the crowds.

  Reaching the other side of the dance-floor, I see that there is a staircase that goes up to a floor above, as well as down into yet another floor beneath. Following the steps down I find that the floor beneath is hidden beneath rows of old stone built barrow vaulted arches which are tastily illuminated with soft lighting. Whilst probably long ago just the dank, damp, foundations of the building above, a new stone floor has been laid, which is now covered with red leather sofas huddled together in comfortable little groups around small glass tables, forming the perfect chill zone, where people can come to sit and chat in relative quiet. Not yet as busy as the floor upstairs, I slump down in one of the red so
fas near the bar and slowly finish my beer. I am just about to go to the bar for a refill, when I see Gail coming down the stairs. She quickly spots me and comes over.

  “Aha, so this is where you are hiding?” she says, plonking herself down beside me on the sofa. “Do you mind if I sit here with you? I need to get away from Ben for a while. He’s getting a little drunk and I think he’s coming on to me,” she laughs.

  “Yeah, I know. I spotted that too.”

  We both laugh. Followed by an embarrassed silence.

  “So, I haven’t properly explained to you why I stood you up the other night, I mean, why I was late.”

  “It’s fine. It’s no problem...It’s a shame though, because you missed a fantastic concert.

  “Andrew, I really wanted to come with you, but Luke was pretty upset, and I couldn’t just leave him by himself. I wanted to call you and tell you I couldn’t come, but I don’t have your mobile number.”

  “I’m sorry, maybe I should have given it to you beforehand. So what was Luke so upset about?” I ask without thinking, before I realise that it’s got nothing to do with me.

  “Relationships. He’s still really upset about what his ex did to him.”

  “Get used to it. All men are just as messed up. I mean, all men that have had a girlfriend. It’s what women do. They screw you up.”

  She stares at me.

  “Present company excluded, of course. Not all girlfriends screw you up, I mean, my flatmate Guy has got the best girlfriend in the world. She’s almost perfect, so maybe not all women count….just most of them.”

  “And men are never to blame?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe a little,” I reply.

  “But not a lot? So, men are just wonderful and never deserve the blame for anything ?…” she replies, laughing a little.

  “Sorry, perhaps I’m being a little too cynical, but that’s only because my ex ran off with someone else, and I’m still angry about it.”