A Chance Encounter Rae Shaw (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

‘I talk about… well, you know, the usual.’

‘Dad.’

The conversation dried up. One word was all it took. There were no skeletons in the cupboard for the Clewer siblings. The biggest skeleton was an elephant who danced around in front of them and neither of them would acknowledge it.

‘So.’ Mark pursed his lips. ‘What’s with the fancy clothes? I’d always assumed you’d be wearing jeans and up to your knees in a muddy field.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, how I wish.’ The smile slipped away. ‘Can’t afford to go down that road. So I’m a personal assistant.’

‘Oh dear,’ he said, sympathetically. He had won the scholarship. It sucked that she hadn’t had the same opportunities. ‘Not what you hoped for.’

‘No. Definitely not. Not that I’m putting down PAs. Sterling work given the shit they have to put up with from the stupid, lazy bastards called their bosses. Sorry. Today has been shit. I do stuff in my spare time with a local charity.’

‘In a city? Don’t you need open fields?’

‘Urban archaeology is more fun. Every time a construction company puts down foundations, they dig up some remains. But unless it turns out to be a national treasure, they cover it up and build on top. You?’

‘Forensic accountancy.’

‘Oh?’ She wasn’t the only one unfamiliar with the profession. Hardly anyone Mark met knew what it entailed.

‘I work for a mergers and acquisitions conglomerate. My boss buys up smaller companies, those in finance and accountancy, restructures them, sells some, keeps others. He’s something of a money-making machine. Financial stuff isn’t always squeaky clean. We go after employees who embezzle company money for personal gain. Or there are the crooked clients. Money launderers. Fraudulent deals. And also private cases that are brought to our attention for investigation.’

‘Don’t the police deal with that kind of thing?’ She picked apart her sandwich and removed the lettuce. Mark stopped a smile from forming. She had never taken to salad; Ellen hadn’t changed that much.

‘Once they know about it but how do they find out, eh? In any case, not every client we investigate turns out to be bad, just crap at filing paperwork or understanding the system. It’s more about ethics. The company I work for doesn’t want to be aiding and abetting criminals by helping them fiddle their books. We audit randomly, pick up on suspicious transactions and do some research. It’s harder to cover your tracks when an audit is unannounced. Most of the time, though, things are legit.’

‘Sounds intriguing. Bit like archaeology; digging up the dirt, so to speak.’

Mark chewed on a mouthful of panini. She had grown up, embraced some witticisms and added charm, things she had lacked as a gawky child. Was she really standing on her own two feet? It was hard to imagine Ellen existing comfortably without some kind of emotional prop. She sank her teeth into her sandwich and he glanced at his watch. He should stay a little longer and try to engage with her.

‘Interesting analogy. We’re not a big team but the work is varied. We also help with due diligence for new acquisitions. Checking up and auditing their financial systems. As I said, varied.’ He swallowed the last of his coffee.

‘More interesting than my job. I never know what my boss wants from me. Some days he can be friendly, others a complete bastard. Depends on whether he’s arguing with his wife or shagging his bit on the side. Nice thing about artefacts is that they don’t bitch or bark. They just tell stories.’ She pulled more lettuce from her sandwich and squished it into her napkin. Still a messy eater, too. Were they really from the same nest, or had Deidre planted her in their home from somewhere else? Relating to Ellen was the equivalent to building a bridge across a chasm. She was somewhere on the other side in the distance.

‘Tough,’ he said, tapping his foot under the table.

‘God, he’s a twat, Mark. It’s a goddamn PR company. I wouldn’t want him to represent me. Ego inflated idiot.’ She stopped. ‘Sorry, I’m ranting. I just can’t get it out of my system sometimes.’

‘Get what out of your system?’

‘I don’t know. Emotions. Just accepting things as they are.’

Something Mark could relate to. ‘I know.’ He leaned forward, pushing aside his empty cup. ‘Nobody else out there for you?’

She blushed and waved a dismissive hand. ‘No. Just Nicky. We’re bedsit neighbours. He keeps an eye out for me, just like a bro…’ She covered her mouth. ‘Sorry. That’s sounds awful. I mean, a friend.’

Mark accepted the rebuke. He hadn’t been a brother to her, not in the way she might have expected. There again, if he had been a big sister, then perhaps the story might have been different. Perhaps she might not have ended up in a psych unit after making criss-cross patterns on her arms. He couldn’t blame her for finding somebody to replace him, and Dad. They both needed a better father.

‘A good friend then?’

‘We jog together. Go to the local pub for a drink now and again. That kind of stuff. Nothing… he’s gay.’

Mark laughed. ‘I’m not judging you, Ellen. If you had a boyfriend, I’m not going to give him the third degree.’

‘And you? Girlfriend?’

He shook his head. ‘Had. We parted company when I moved down here. Mutual decision to end it.’ The breakup had hardly broken his heart, it hadn’t even caused a splinter. ‘Look. I really have to go.’ He rose to his feet and brushed the crumbs off his jacket.

She was busy examining her leg.

‘That okay?’ he asked.

She smoothed her skirt over the damp patch. ‘Sure.’ For a fleeting moment, he saw a different girl peering up at him, a younger version but with the same opaque eyes and peppering of pinprick freckles around her