catch a thick Irish accent.
I gave him a tight nod yet didn’t get a chance to reply because he was already hurrying down the walk. He cast a look over his shoulder as he went, hunched; looking away from me, not in my direction, but across the street, to the newly let flat. I automatically followed his gaze. There was nothing there.
My hand instinctively stuffed into my pocket and I felt the drive still in my pocket. I gave it a protective squeeze before hurrying my own way.
I couldn’t shake it, for some reason. And as I did my errands for the day, I was struck with a crawling, paranoid sense of being…observed. Watched. It was completely mental, I knew that, and yet…Yet there was something underneath the never ending rush of the streets of London, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Like looking at a picture that had something off to it, but being unable to see what the mistake was. I found myself at every minute or so, glancing round, as if expecting to see some bloke in sunshades and a black coat watching me from over a paper at the end of the aisle. Of course there was no one. Of course not.
I was just finishing my shopping when my phone informed me of a text. I pulled it out. At last! It was from James. c
DIDN’T REALISE I’D LEFT IT. THANK YOU FOR FINDING IT. COULD YOU PLEASE DROP IT BY MY FLAT TOMORROW AFTERNOON IF THAT IS CONVENIENT? I’D RATHER NOT HAVE IT POSTED.
He sent me his address.
I smiled, stepping to the till.
TOP SECRET INFORMATION OR SOMETHING?
SOMETHING LIKE THAT. YES.
I couldn’t tell if he were joking or not. If it was important, it seemed fairly careless of him to leave it lying about. He would certainly be the picture of the absent minded professor if that were the truth. I patted my pocket where I’d slipped it in to ensure it was still there. It was, thank God.
I paid for my few bags of groceries before trudging back down the pavement in the direction of home. I hadn’t made it halfway before my phone vibrated again, this time it was a call coming through and I struggled to answer it with my hands full of sacks.
‘So, you were at my talk today.’
‘Yes. A friend told me about it rather last minute. I was free so I just figured, why not?’
‘What did you think?’ he sounded somewhat smug.
I stumbled, trying to manage too many things at once. ‘Interesting. It was very interesting.’
I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘You didn’t understand a word, did you?’
I grinned. ‘Not a one.’
He and I both chuckled at that. Going to a lecture on mathematics when I couldn’t make sense of it.
‘Still,’ I said, ‘pity you had to leave so suddenly.’
James cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Not my intention. Unfortunately other unforeseen issues arose.’
I was incredibly tempted to ask him to elaborate about that. Those people who had ushered him out so quickly…Was it just for his television appearance?
‘Well, your handlers certainly keep you on a tight schedule.’
‘Handlers?’
I swallowed, wondering if I’d said something wrong. ‘Y—yes, those two who came in and left with you so suddenly.’
James growled unhappily on the other end. ‘I don’t belong to them.’
I felt a bit defensive as I arrived back to my place. ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
I turned my key in the lock and trudged down the stairs to my door. My attention caught on how it almost turned too easily, like it was open. Had I forgotten to lock up? I stepped inside but stopped dead.
‘My God. My flat!’
The bags of shopping fell to the floor.
‘What is it?’ James’s voice lost its smug quality.
My flat was trashed. Drawers opened, papers strewn across the floor, cushions off the sofa.
‘My—my flat. It’s…it’s been ransacked!’ I stammered numbly, stepping into the room on raw nerves.
Perhaps entering wasn’t the wisest of decisions on my part, but my mind wasn’t terribly clear at that point. Not to mention, my place was so small, just about the
I gave him a tight nod yet didn’t get a chance to reply because he was already hurrying down the walk. He cast a look over his shoulder as he went, hunched; looking away from me, not in my direction, but across the street, to the newly let flat. I automatically followed his gaze. There was nothing there.
My hand instinctively stuffed into my pocket and I felt the drive still in my pocket. I gave it a protective squeeze before hurrying my own way.
I couldn’t shake it, for some reason. And as I did my errands for the day, I was struck with a crawling, paranoid sense of being…observed. Watched. It was completely mental, I knew that, and yet…Yet there was something underneath the never ending rush of the streets of London, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Like looking at a picture that had something off to it, but being unable to see what the mistake was. I found myself at every minute or so, glancing round, as if expecting to see some bloke in sunshades and a black coat watching me from over a paper at the end of the aisle. Of course there was no one. Of course not.
I was just finishing my shopping when my phone informed me of a text. I pulled it out. At last! It was from James. c
DIDN’T REALISE I’D LEFT IT. THANK YOU FOR FINDING IT. COULD YOU PLEASE DROP IT BY MY FLAT TOMORROW AFTERNOON IF THAT IS CONVENIENT? I’D RATHER NOT HAVE IT POSTED.
He sent me his address.
I smiled, stepping to the till.
TOP SECRET INFORMATION OR SOMETHING?
SOMETHING LIKE THAT. YES.
I couldn’t tell if he were joking or not. If it was important, it seemed fairly careless of him to leave it lying about. He would certainly be the picture of the absent minded professor if that were the truth. I patted my pocket where I’d slipped it in to ensure it was still there. It was, thank God.
I paid for my few bags of groceries before trudging back down the pavement in the direction of home. I hadn’t made it halfway before my phone vibrated again, this time it was a call coming through and I struggled to answer it with my hands full of sacks.
‘So, you were at my talk today.’
‘Yes. A friend told me about it rather last minute. I was free so I just figured, why not?’
‘What did you think?’ he sounded somewhat smug.
I stumbled, trying to manage too many things at once. ‘Interesting. It was very interesting.’
I could hear the smile in his voice. ‘You didn’t understand a word, did you?’
I grinned. ‘Not a one.’
He and I both chuckled at that. Going to a lecture on mathematics when I couldn’t make sense of it.
‘Still,’ I said, ‘pity you had to leave so suddenly.’
James cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Not my intention. Unfortunately other unforeseen issues arose.’
I was incredibly tempted to ask him to elaborate about that. Those people who had ushered him out so quickly…Was it just for his television appearance?
‘Well, your handlers certainly keep you on a tight schedule.’
‘Handlers?’
I swallowed, wondering if I’d said something wrong. ‘Y—yes, those two who came in and left with you so suddenly.’
James growled unhappily on the other end. ‘I don’t belong to them.’
I felt a bit defensive as I arrived back to my place. ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
I turned my key in the lock and trudged down the stairs to my door. My attention caught on how it almost turned too easily, like it was open. Had I forgotten to lock up? I stepped inside but stopped dead.
‘My God. My flat!’
The bags of shopping fell to the floor.
‘What is it?’ James’s voice lost its smug quality.
My flat was trashed. Drawers opened, papers strewn across the floor, cushions off the sofa.
‘My—my flat. It’s…it’s been ransacked!’ I stammered numbly, stepping into the room on raw nerves.
Perhaps entering wasn’t the wisest of decisions on my part, but my mind wasn’t terribly clear at that point. Not to mention, my place was so small, just about the
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