Read Online Nobody True by James Herbert - Free Book Online Page A

envelope. We could all benefit from a paradigm shift.”
    I assumed Sydney understood the lingo; I did, just about.
    “If we’re going for the new account we have to start work right away.” Despite the warning, there was no impatience in Sydney’s manner, nor in his grey eyes. There was only his usual impassiveness.
    “We wouldn’t start on it tonight anyway,” said Oliver to Sydney. “Let’s sleep on it, okay?”
    Sydney nodded and I got to my feet, still wondering if I’d been left out of the loop somewhere along the way. Ollie hadn’t seemed very surprised by either of the two propositions, nor by the possible linking between them. I followed my copywriter out of Sydney’s office back to the one we shared as the agency’s creative directors, Oliver switching on the light as we entered.
    Moving behind my desk and picking up a long steel cutting rule that rested there, slapping the flat side against my open palm, a habit of mine when I was tense, I began to say, “We oughta talk…”
    “Ring Andrea first, Jim,” he interrupted. “It might be something urgent.”
    Reluctantly, I placed the heavy rule back on the desk and picked up my phone, pressing 9 for an outside line. We needed to discuss things, Ollie and I. I dialled my home number.
    “Hello, please?”
    It was Prim’s breathy little voice.
    “Hey, squirt, it’s Daddy.”
    “Daddy! Are you coming home now?”
    I smiled as I thought of her standing in the sitting room, phone clutched in both hands, her curly hair kept away from her face with an Alice-band. Lush brown hair like her mother’s, a few shades lighter though, with a reddish hue when the sun lightened it; tawny brown eyes full of innocence and fun.
    “Soon, Prim,” I told her.
    “You got to, Daddy. You’re looking after me tonight. Don’t you ‘member?”
    Uh-oh. Sure I remembered. Andrea was meeting two of her girlfriends this evening for a quietish girlie night out and I was the appointed childminder.
    “Did you think I’d forgotten? Anything special you want to do?”
    “Lots and lots. And cards.”
    Seven years old and I’d already taught her how to gamble. Taught her to cheat a little too.
    “No DVDs you want to watch?” I needed some thinking time tonight.
    “Just games, please.”
    I laughed. “Okay.” Plenty of time to think once I’d put her to bed. “Now run and get Mummy for me, will you?”
    “Love you!”
    She was gone and I pictured her running to the kitchen—she was of an age when kids are always in a hurry, rushing from one interest to the next. A snapshot view of her came to mind, a holiday photo, the sun directly behind her so that the curls around her face were orangey red, a halo of fire, her features softened even more because they were in light shadow, her brown eyes deepened so that they were like Andrea’s. I wanted to eat her.
    “Jim?”
    Andrea’s voice, low-pitched, even now seductive to me.
    “Hi. You rang me,” I told her.
    “You haven’t forgotten I’m out tonight.”
    “No, I’ll be home in plenty of time.”
    “No last-minute meetings. You know what you’re like.”
    In truth, I did want to discuss Sydney’s proposal some more with him and Oliver, but maybe a breather would be useful at this point: I was getting just a bit rankled with this talk of a merger—it still sounded like a sell-out to me—and needed time to think on it to calm myself.
    “I’ll be home within the hour,” I assured Andrea. “Where are you meeting the girls?” The dinner with two girlfriends of old was a bi-monthly get-together to yak and catch up on the latest gossip.
    “San Lorenzo’s.”
    I was impressed. “Hope you’re not paying.”
    “We always go Dutch. You don’t mind, do you?”
    Of course I didn’t; we both needed own-time every so often. “No, you have a good dinner, order the best on the menu.” She deserved it; I was always ringing home at the last moment to tell her I was going to be stuck in yet another meeting, or that