Read Online Chasing the Dark by Sam Hepburn - Free Book Online

Pritchard . . .’, ‘What an honour . . .’, ‘Such a remarkable woman . . .’
    I hung back, watching her through the bannister, waiting for her to finish. She was smiling and patting her hairdo, though as usual there wasn’t one single hair out of place.
    â€˜Oh, of course. In my line of work, discretion is everything. I like to think my regular clients regard me as a trusted personal friend.’ Suddenly the smile froze. ‘I don’t understand. That really wouldn’t be . . .’
    The caller interrupted and she changed her tune pretty quick.
    â€˜No. No, Mr Pritchard, that won’t be necessary. I always try to accommodate my client’s wishes, however unorthodox they may be. If you send me a list of her dietary requirements, I’ll prepare some menus. But there may be a problem with that arrangement longer term, you see . . .’
    I missed the next bit because, for once, she lowered her voice and I had to edge a bit nearer to hear more. ‘. . . in fact, given my nephew’s situation I wonder if I might ask you for a little professional advice . . .’
    Hang on. Why was she talking about me?
    I leant even closer and got my answer. ‘. . . it’s only natural that the boy should want to be with his father now he’s lost his mother and I . . . that is . . .  my husband and I were wondering how best to go about finding him.’
    Well, good luck with that, Doreen . Mum had been trying to track down my dad for fourteen years but Adam Okampo was slicker than the Invisible Man when it came to disappearing. Still, I s’pose I couldn’t blame Doreen for giving it a go. And getting dumped with a dad who’d never wanted me couldn’t be any worse than living with an aunt who thought I was scum.
    Doreen went on listening for a couple of minutes but there was no laughter, fake or otherwise, when she said goodbye. From the way she rammed the handset down it seemed like this Pritchard guy had rubbed her right up the wrong way.

CHAPTER 7
    F or dinner that night Doreen heated up a couple of portions of her latest creation, fish tagine with minted couscous – don’t ask – and we’d been sitting at opposite ends of the table silently pushing it round our plates for at least five minutes when she sniffed and said, ‘Norma Craig’s lawyer contacted me earlier.’
    My skin went prickly. So that’s who she’d been talking to.
    â€˜Miss Craig has heard about my reputation for high-quality cuisine and total discretion, and she’s decided that once she moves back to Elysium she wants me to supply her with an evening meal two or three times a week.’
    â€˜That’s great,’ I said, though Doreen didn’t seem too thrilled about it. In fact, from the way she was screwing up her lips you’d have thought she’d just spotted a dead rat in her couscous.
    â€˜Of course, I couldn’t say no but I’m far too busy to do the deliveries myself. I told him . . .  you’d have to do them.’
    â€˜Me?’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Oh, no reason. It’s just that . . . you know, with someone famous like Norma Craig I thought you’d want to do the face-to-face yourself.’
    Now what had I said? She was fuming.
    â€˜I can’t just abandon my regular clients because some washed-up old celebrity wants my services. Who does she think she is anyway? She might have married a lord but everyone knows her father was a crook. If he hadn’t dropped dead of a heart attack he’d have ended up in jail with the rest of his gangster cronies.’
    Calm down, Doreen. What’s Norma Craig ever done to you?
    â€˜OK,’ I said. ‘No probs. I’ll do the deliveries.’
    â€˜That dog of yours has been digging up my roses.’
    â€˜Sorry.’
    I