by G R Matthews
“I am not killing myself for you,” I said.
“When you get home,” he continued, “on that little glass coffee table in your lounge you’ll find a vial of clear liquid. It can’t be traced back to me or my companies. Drink it and you will die a gentle death. Don’t drink and you take your chances just like everyone else.”
“You stay out of my house,” I screamed at him and stormed towards the door that the butler had opened.
“Jessica, I have done this because, though I don’t like you very much, I respect your talent. It might atone a little for Karen too.” His voice was still as soft and warm as a bearskin rug.
I stopped, cold. “Don’t you dare, just don’t you dare. When I get back, the first thing I am doing is calling the police and sending them your way with the recording of this conversation. Then I am writing the whole thing up for the morning edition. You are finished.”
“Well, in that case, I wish good luck.” I stared at him as he picked up his cup of tea and moved to the bed where he sat down and rested his free hand on the head board. I shook my head and walked out.
“A cab is waiting downstairs for you, Miss,” Edward, the butler, said.
He was true to his word; on my coffee table was a small vial of clear liquid. I didn’t touch it. I dragged the recorder out of my bag and pressed play. Silence. Nothing. For the whole length of the interview there was nothing but empty noise. Worse, I’d forgotten to pick up the envelope of ‘proof’ he’d promised.
“Bugger it.” How stupid am I? This was the world’s richest man, he was bound to have some system to stop me recording. Or, he erased it whilst I was in the toilet. Maybe I could get it checked for prints. But what good would that do? It would only prove I’d been there and nothing else. From the interview I had been trying to get for years I had the sum total of nothing. My notes might be enough for a piece or two but without the corroboration of the recording I’d be sued for libel and, no doubt, lose. My reputation would in tatters. All I had was a vial of some untraceable liquid. I poured it down the sink. Sunk a bottle of wine and ate a take away pizza before collapsing into a deep sleep.
He gave me a choice and I chose.
It hurt.
AFTERWORD
Well, that’s the first book published and it wasn’t too painful a process even if the catalyst was. These stories were written over the last few years and many others were written in-between. Who knows, I might publish another selection soon – once I have re-worked them into shape. But first there is the matter of the novel to finish – ‘The Stone Road’. And, when I say finish, I actually mean re-write, re-draft, correct and improve until it is fit for human consumption!
If you enjoyed these stories then please leave a very nice review on Amazon, or wherever you found it. If you didn’t, well you took a chance on a new voice and it didn’t cost you too much – you may even have got it for free! Any comments are welcome and I can be contacted on twitter @g_r_matthews or via my brand new website at www.grmatthews.com. I’d also be grateful of any reviews you might like to do on www.goodreads.com and you might some other books you’d like to read on there.
I look forward to hearing (though I will using my eyes and reading the comments, tweets, and emails so perhaps hearing is not quite the right word – but you get my meaning) from you.
G R Matthews (2013)
Ps. The Stone Road is out now and can be found as an ebook or paperback on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and other stockists.
