thought.
‘Unless …’ he said, ‘unless it was among those papers I found at the bottom of my briefcase. You know the briefcase I take to the Chamber of Commerce meetings? I haven’t used it since the last one and I was clearing it out ready for yesterday’s meeting and … yes … I remember taking some papers out of the bottom of it and placing them on the floor.’ He beamed at her. ‘Yes, that’s probably it.’
Grace knew that was the best explanation she was likely to get. Asking him how he’d managed to open someone else’s post, continue to think it was his, file it in his briefcase even though it was a red bill and then wipe its existence completely from his mind was pretty pointless. She just hoped that the people in Saracen Place weren’t still groping around in the dark because of him.
‘Perhaps I ought to take a look at those other papers that were in your briefcase as well,’ she said.
He nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, of course, Grace. Good idea. I’ll get them now.’ Another smile and he trundled from the room.
‘That,’ Gilbert said, rolling down his trouser leg, ‘was a classic, even by Alistair’s standards. He’s getting worse.’
‘Shh.’
When Alistair came back, he was not holding any papers but he had put on his coat. The offending briefcase was clutched to his chest.
‘There’s not another Chamber of Commerce meeting now, is there?’ Grace asked, staring at it.
Alistair appeared to be ignoring her. ‘I won’t be long,’ he said brightly. ‘Can you just hang on till I get back?’ He called across to Gilbert. ‘You too … as you’re here anyway.’ He started to leave the room.
Grace followed him. ‘Those papers, Alistair, remember you were going to fetch them?’ But the front door was already closing behind him.
Back in Grace’s office, Gilbert had taken up residence in the easy chair again. ‘Marvellous. Now I’ll have to wait for him and I’ll end up rushing around to get Vi’s supplies. And he’s forgotten all about my payment.’ He gave her a sly smile. ‘I don’t suppose, Grace, that you could take a look?’
Over the next twenty minutes, Grace sorted out where Gilbert’s payment had been messed up, and when she tried Alistair’s office door and now found it open, left him a note on a large piece of paper about the new cheque he needed to write for the outstanding amount. On the floor was what she assumed were the other papers he had found in that briefcase. She sifted through them and the in tray to make sure none of it was toxic. She answered a couple of letters on Alistair’s behalf, putting them in envelopes ready to drop in the postbox on her way home. She checked the answer phone and dealt with what she could, leaving Alistair another larger note about a couple of things that only he could sort out.
In the kitchen she emptied the fridge of everything looking past its best, put it all in the bin and then, carrying the full bin-liner through to the reception area, left it near the door to take downstairs when she went out. She walked back through to her office to give Mrs Macintosh, the New Zealander, a quick call to see how her husband had got on at the emergency dentist and, finally, she pulled down the blinds on the two windows overlooking the street and had a bit of a clean around with the duster and polish kept in her drawer next to the torch.
‘For goodness’ sake, Grace,’ Gilbert said, ‘just sit down and relax. Have a cold cup of tea. You do not get paid todo all this extra stuff. Remind me again how many hours of office admin are in your contract?’
Grace didn’t answer.
‘All I can say is that Alistair hit pay dirt when he found a woman as dedicated to order as you are.’
‘We’ve talked about this before, Gilbert,’ she said, carrying on with the polishing. ‘I’m not necessarily doing it for Alistair. I like things to run smoothly, be in the right place. Anything else makes me feel unsettled.’
‘Never
‘Unless …’ he said, ‘unless it was among those papers I found at the bottom of my briefcase. You know the briefcase I take to the Chamber of Commerce meetings? I haven’t used it since the last one and I was clearing it out ready for yesterday’s meeting and … yes … I remember taking some papers out of the bottom of it and placing them on the floor.’ He beamed at her. ‘Yes, that’s probably it.’
Grace knew that was the best explanation she was likely to get. Asking him how he’d managed to open someone else’s post, continue to think it was his, file it in his briefcase even though it was a red bill and then wipe its existence completely from his mind was pretty pointless. She just hoped that the people in Saracen Place weren’t still groping around in the dark because of him.
‘Perhaps I ought to take a look at those other papers that were in your briefcase as well,’ she said.
He nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, of course, Grace. Good idea. I’ll get them now.’ Another smile and he trundled from the room.
‘That,’ Gilbert said, rolling down his trouser leg, ‘was a classic, even by Alistair’s standards. He’s getting worse.’
‘Shh.’
When Alistair came back, he was not holding any papers but he had put on his coat. The offending briefcase was clutched to his chest.
‘There’s not another Chamber of Commerce meeting now, is there?’ Grace asked, staring at it.
Alistair appeared to be ignoring her. ‘I won’t be long,’ he said brightly. ‘Can you just hang on till I get back?’ He called across to Gilbert. ‘You too … as you’re here anyway.’ He started to leave the room.
Grace followed him. ‘Those papers, Alistair, remember you were going to fetch them?’ But the front door was already closing behind him.
Back in Grace’s office, Gilbert had taken up residence in the easy chair again. ‘Marvellous. Now I’ll have to wait for him and I’ll end up rushing around to get Vi’s supplies. And he’s forgotten all about my payment.’ He gave her a sly smile. ‘I don’t suppose, Grace, that you could take a look?’
Over the next twenty minutes, Grace sorted out where Gilbert’s payment had been messed up, and when she tried Alistair’s office door and now found it open, left him a note on a large piece of paper about the new cheque he needed to write for the outstanding amount. On the floor was what she assumed were the other papers he had found in that briefcase. She sifted through them and the in tray to make sure none of it was toxic. She answered a couple of letters on Alistair’s behalf, putting them in envelopes ready to drop in the postbox on her way home. She checked the answer phone and dealt with what she could, leaving Alistair another larger note about a couple of things that only he could sort out.
In the kitchen she emptied the fridge of everything looking past its best, put it all in the bin and then, carrying the full bin-liner through to the reception area, left it near the door to take downstairs when she went out. She walked back through to her office to give Mrs Macintosh, the New Zealander, a quick call to see how her husband had got on at the emergency dentist and, finally, she pulled down the blinds on the two windows overlooking the street and had a bit of a clean around with the duster and polish kept in her drawer next to the torch.
‘For goodness’ sake, Grace,’ Gilbert said, ‘just sit down and relax. Have a cold cup of tea. You do not get paid todo all this extra stuff. Remind me again how many hours of office admin are in your contract?’
Grace didn’t answer.
‘All I can say is that Alistair hit pay dirt when he found a woman as dedicated to order as you are.’
‘We’ve talked about this before, Gilbert,’ she said, carrying on with the polishing. ‘I’m not necessarily doing it for Alistair. I like things to run smoothly, be in the right place. Anything else makes me feel unsettled.’
‘Never
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