David ushered her into his consulting room and she sat awkwardly to the side of his desk, like a patient.
‘What’s the matter Trish?’
‘Don’t worry David. I’m not ill or anything like that. It’s just something I need to sort out before I go in to work tomorrow.’
‘Sorry. This is not ideal,’ he gestured around the room, ‘but I’ve got an update meeting on child protection to go to at the hospital in half an hour, so no time to find somewhere more conducive.’
‘Actually it’s better like this,’ she said, ‘apart from the receptionist.’
‘Oh Janet’s all right. She looks and sounds fierce but she’s not at all really. She’s soft as anything inside. It’s just her way of protecting us. She’d do anything for the staff here. So, what’s bothering you?’
‘I’d like you to have a look at this and tell me what it is.’
‘She passed him the photo and waited while he looked at it carefully.
‘Is it what I think it is?’
David looked up.
‘It’s a picture of a female circumcision. In medical terms it’s what we call FGM, female genital mutilation.’ He was quiet for a moment. ‘Is this anything to do with that cosmetic surgeon you mentioned?’
Trish nodded.
‘How did you get hold of this?’
Trish told the story.
‘So he doesn’t know you’ve taken it?’
‘No.’
‘Do you think he’ll guess when he finds it’s gone?’
‘I don’t know. Possibly.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘That’s what I can’t figure out at the moment. I’ll certainly refuse the commission. I don’t need to give him a reason after all, and I won’t be suggesting any other PR firms to him either. In fact I’m rather inclined to warn off other PR firms. I don’t suppose he’ll be too pleased.’
‘That’s all very well but it’s not going to stop him from doing something which is illegal.
‘That would mean contacting the police.’ Trish frowned.
‘Yes’
‘That’s a tricky one. He’s a foreign national and doesn’t intend to carry out any surgery in the UK. We can take steps to prevent him promoting his services here but I don’t know what more we could do.’
‘What about in his own country though?’
‘I really don’t want to get involved.’
‘But Trish you already are. You’ve effectively stolen property from him while you were in his country.’
She hadn’t considered matters from that perspective.
‘I’ll have to return it,’ she said bluntly.
‘He’ll certainly know you took it then.’
David leant forward with his elbows on his desk and his chin resting in his hands.
‘You’ve got yourself into a delicate situation here Trish. Perhaps you should take legal advice. You need to talk to your boss, explain it all to him.’
This was not what Trish had hoped for. David had not made it easier for her. He looked at his watch again.
‘Sorry Trish, I’ve really got to go now. Let me know how things work out, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Her voice was flat.
David stood up to get his coat.
‘By the way how’s Dick? Is he back yet?’
‘He’s back but we’ve split up.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry. Are you all right?’
‘No problem. It was my decision.’
15
Wine bars and pubs were never much good when you were alone. Trish was discovering this as she lifted a large glass of red wine to her lips. She was trying to read the evening newspaper but failing. Actually she was not really trying at all. She just felt she had to look as though she was doing something. Instead she was churning over her exchange with David. She wished he had not been so pedantic and logical but he was never going to throw away the rulebook. At least he had confirmed what she was dealing with. Right now, though, she could do with a bit of lateral thinking. Her main concern, she had to confess, was her own involvement. She regretted taking the photo and, even more, that she had allowed herself to consider Jalbis Zachion as a potential client. She had no desire to involve the authorities and even less to confess to her boss. She was used to solving her own problems and this was no different. There was only one solution and that was to return the photo in a way that would not link her to its disappearance. Then she would refuse the commission and forget the whole sorry episode. There was only one thing to do. She finished her glass and resisted another. She had to drive, even if her destination was only five minutes away. She tapped out a text and left.
She approached the building with determination and pressed the entry phone.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Trish,’ she replied.
There was no immediate response. She waited, swallowing an imaginary lump in her throat in an effort to keep her anxiety at bay. It was her only chance. At length the door buzzed and she pushed it open with relief and called the lift. The door to the flat was already opened when she stepped out of the lift. Richard did not look pleased to see her.
‘Can I come in?’
‘I suppose,’ he answered uncharitably.
‘I just came to return your keys.’ Trish suddenly felt very hot.
‘Do you mind if I take off my coat?’
Richard shrugged and she accepted that as an affirmative and hung it up.
‘You’d better come in,’ he said.
She sat down on the sofa bed and stopped herself from commenting on the disorder around her.
‘Look, I’m sorry if I surprised you but I wanted to get your keys back to you before you went abroad.’
‘I think I’d trust you not to ransack the place,’ he said. ‘Not that I’d notice.’ He waved his hand around the room and smiled, looking more at ease.
‘Look, would you like a drink?’
‘A coffee would be good.’
Dick went into the kitchen. Trish didn’t follow but sat stiffly looking out at the skyline view of London.
The coffee was good: another of Dick’s strengths. She stirred the unsweetened drink pointlessly.
‘How was your trip back?’ she asked politely.
‘Fine. No problems. How was yours?’
‘Okay,’ she paused. ‘Are you going back soon?’
‘Yes, probably in a few days. Why? You’re not angling for another visit are you?’
‘After this last trip I don’t ever want to go back there.’
Richard didn’t respond.
‘Don’t you want to know why?’
‘It’s none of my business is it?’
‘Well I want you to know.’ Richard got up and started pacing the room but made no objections.
‘I was waiting for a final discussion with the cosmetic surgeon before coming home and I came across some photos which were to be included in a leaflet about the procedures that he does. Basically, it showed a female circumcision. It means that there’s no way he can become a client of ours. We’d be implicated in something that’s illegal, even if he does do it abroad. That’s not the problem though. I’ve put myself in a difficult position by stealing one of the photos. Well, I had to be sure it was what I thought it was, but now I need to return it before he realises it’s missing.’
She stopped and drew in a deep breath.
‘And?’ he queried.
‘Well, I don’t want him to have any idea that I took it. If I send it back from here he’ll guess.’
‘So you want me to post it for you when I go back?’ Richard was not slow to see where she was heading.
‘Yes,’ she said, relieved to have been spared the difficult task of actually asking his help.
‘So, let me get this right,’ he continued. ‘The issue is nothing to do with the fact that he’s performing a criminal act and should be stopped. It’s all to do with making sure you’re not compromised.’
‘I think that’s
rather black and white. I’ll be able to do something to prevent him from promoting his services in the UK but, as far as his own country’s concerned, that’s a different matter and nothing to do with me.’
‘Except for the fact that you have a photo of his that you took out of his country.’
‘That’s what David said.’ The words were out before she realised.
‘Oh, so you’ve seen David?’
‘I had to be sure what the photo was.’
‘Well I’m sure he had some ideas of what to do.’ Each word came loaded with an unaccustomed sarcasm.
‘Please let’s not argue. I’m asking you for a favour.’
‘And what’s happened to that independence you keep going on about?’
‘Look, are you going to help or not?’
‘Let’s put it this way. To get you off the hook I have to carry around a photo of an illegal procedure that could get me arrested, and then risk posting it in a country where I wouldn’t trust the police to understand the concept of innocent until proved guilty. I’m afraid it’s your problem, Trish, and you’ll have to solve it. I’m not going to get involved. If it’s any consolation, he’s unlikely to go chasing after a photo of something that could incriminate him. If I were you I should just forget the whole thing,’
Trish stood up as he finished and quietly collected her coat and left the flat, closing the door behind her without saying a word.
16
‘Morning Jane.’
‘Morning. My am I glad to see you back. Boss will be too.’
‘What?’
‘Big crisis right now. All leave cancelled and no new contracts allowed.’
‘What’s all this about?’
Jane began to speak but Trish held up her hand.
‘Hang on. Come and have a coffee in my office.’
Minutes later Jane started up again.
‘It’s the Downing Street account. Charlie’s had an accident on his motorbike and God knows how long he’ll be in hospital and Liz is off sick.’
‘I thought Liz was pregnant.’
‘Yeah: complications or something.’
‘Is Charlie okay?’
‘Yes. Just some broken bones and a bruised ego.’
‘Thank God. So who’s handling the account?’
‘That’s the point.’
‘Very tricky, especially with an election coming up. It’s going to be mega in terms of workload.’
‘The boss wants you on board. He thinks you and he can manage it, but there’s absolutely no room for new accounts.’
‘That’s fantastic.’
‘What about that cosmetic surgeon though?’
‘I’ll talk to him.’
‘Pity after all that effort and your trip abroad.’
‘Oh it could be for the best.’
Jane looked puzzled.
‘I thought you were really keen on the new project.’
‘Oh well, easy come, easy go.’ Trish smiled enigmatically.
‘Anyway the boss wants to see you at ten.’
Trish came out of his office feeling rather smug. She had got her hands on their most prestigious account and had found an easy solution to her problems with Jalbis Zachion. She logged on to her computer to send him an immediate email. He had pre-empted her.
Dear Patricia,
It was a great pleasure to show you around the hospital facilities and discuss our future business association. I look forward to receiving details of the contract from you at your very earliest convenience.
Kindest regards
Jalbis.
Trish winced on reading her full name and then smiled at the formal style of the email. She would reply in kind, but, uncertain how to address him, decided to omit the courtesy of any personal names.
Thank you for your email. Unfortunately, I have been informed by my superior that we are unable to take on any new accounts and so it is with regret that I have to inform you that we are unable to accept you as one of our clients.
With grateful thanks for a very interesting and informative weekend and all good wishes for the future.
Kind regards.
She despatched the email and her mailbox flashed almost immediately with his reply.
I was very disappointed to receive your reply. I have been led to believe that there would be no problem accepting me as a client subject to the conditions that you outlined and which have been fulfilled now. Your change of direction seems most unprofessional and I think warrants an explanation.
Jalbis Zachion
Hell – she’d have to reply to that. She could sense his anger and she was extremely displeased to be accused of unprofessional behaviour.
Dear Dr Zachion,
It is a matter of great regret that we cannot proceed with what promised to be a successful campaign on your behalf. We are, however, in the throes of exceptional circumstances that have only just overtaken the company and could not have been foreseen. Since they involve personnel within the company I am not at liberty to say more, but my senior manager would be happy to corroborate my story. We sincerely regret any inconvenience to you.
Regards
Patricia
She was not used to grovelling and hoped she had been convincing. She watched the screen until his reply arrived
I understand, then, that the situation affecting your company is a temporary one. A delay is inconvenient for me but I would be prepared to postpone our contract for a reasonable period in order to secure your services.
Regards
Jalbis Zachion
Dear Dr Zachion
Unfortunately it is impossible to say when our circumstances will change and I do not think it advisable to depend on your suggested proposal.
Madam
That is most unhelpful. I shall approach another company and take my business elsewhere. Could you please supply some names as agreed.
J.Z.
I’m sorry but I don’t have the time owing to current circumstances.
There was no reply. Good. Trish was satisfied she had laid that problem to rest. She could turn her attention to more important things now. Hell no. She needed to block his access to other PR firms. It was essential that they did not become involved with anyone who indulged in illegal activities. She needed to stop his quest for publicity, at least in England. She could spin her warnings without being too specific and use it to her advantage. Brownie points on the network were always worth having. She accessed her email account and started typing. When she had finished, she felt the matter was now concluded. For the moment she had forgotten the photo that lay tucked in a drawer in her flat.
17
The fourth cup of strong coffee stood unconsumed by the computer. Jalbis Zachion’s fingers tapped furiously across the keyboard, his irritation mounting with each email he received and sent. He had been angry at the exchange yesterday, but a day in surgery had mollified him and changed his perspective. Now he was having to rethink matters again. He had spent the whole morning trying to find a PR company willing to consider him, and he was now approaching his limit of tolerance as the rejections mounted. He paused and swallowed the coffee stone cold, something which only added to his anger. He would have to give up and this in no way pleased him. In addition, he had begun to regret the brusqueness of his final email to Trish. He felt he should have kept that option open, despite what she had said. A part of him was truly puzzled. She had seemed so keen on the idea and had even shown more than a passing interest in him personally. Perhaps he should have responded to that. Perhaps that was the answer. Social conduct was different in England, that much he knew. But an attraction was an attraction and cultivating it could have made a difference. The thought was no help at all.
He shut down the computer and returned to his paperwork. There were always documents and accounts to deal with, even in the paper light office that he took pride in. He worked speedily until he finished and then sat back allowing himself a moment’s reflection. He was not pre
pared to relinquish his plans to promote his service abroad. He would just have to consider other options, other countries. He pulled out the draft of the brochure from his desk. He had already proof read it and it was ready for printing. A second smaller brochure required his attention now. He read it, making odd corrections in red ink. It too was to be illustrated with photos and he took the prints and carefully laid them out for inspection. He had bribed the printer well and knew he would do a good job. He weighed the risks of producing a brochure advertising the provision of female circumcision and decided the benefits tipped the balance. It was usual for a mother to request written information before she entrusted her daughter to him. He was checking the photos against their subtitles. Something did not add up. There was one missing. He looked around the surface of the desk and then within the papers of the draft brochure. He took out the other brochure and scanned that too. When he found nothing, he turned his attention to the floor and to the drawers of his desk. Nothing. One was missing without a doubt. He began to sweat. One less photo was not a major problem. He could get another print. Thinking of who might now have it was a totally different matter. He knew that all the photos had been there when he received the draft. He had checked. Someone had taken it.
He got up and put on his jacket. He needed some fresh air to clear his head. As he left the room the answer hit him. It was the only possible explanation. No other person had been left alone in the room. The folder had been there on his desk when he’d left the room to take a phone call. It was always otherwise locked away. Did she really think he wouldn’t notice or make the connection? Her emails no longer puzzled him. Either she had been handed a very convenient excuse to refuse him or she was lying. Either way he could not now consider England in his plans. She would be too well connected in her profession. The recent raft of rejections by email had clearly testified to that. You could never trust women. They never played straight. Thank God he could stay above their games, at least for the most part. It was one of the few advantages that his impotence gave him. To think he had once been so familiar as to call her Patricia. At least he had not stooped to abbreviating her name. If she were here now, he knew exactly what he would do. It was no more than she deserved, but she was hundreds of miles away, cocooned in a very different world from his. She would be ignorant of and indifferent to it. Stealing his property and playing him along; dropping him without a further thought when it suited her. Despite the distance he would not be deterred. He had contacts. He would use them – call in a favour. She had to be shown. She had to be taught a lesson. It was the least he could do to redeem his self-esteem.
From Nemesis Island Page 15
