Catch Me When I Fall by Nicci French Read Free Book Online Page B

escalators and out into a grey, drizzly morning. I thought of Charlie lying in bed and wondered if he had any work to do. I decided I ought to phone him. I reached into my bag but couldn't find my mobile. I couldn't find it when I got to the office either. I tried to remember when I had last used it and couldn't. On the previous day I'd used the office phone. So either it was at home or I'd dropped it somewhere, most probably on my lost evening. It might have been stolen by now, but perhaps a normal human being had picked it up. I've spent my life breaking and losing things. I don't think I've ever owned an umbrella for longer than a week. Everything -purses, sunglasses, keys, hats, anything that isn't permanently buttoned or fastened to my body -I've left around
    the world. That's a good thing about a mobile phone. You can't call up sunglasses and ask where they are. I dialled my own number and after a couple of rings a man answered. 'You've got my phone,' I said.
     "I didn't steal it," said the voice, then laughed as if it was a big joke.
     'I'll take your word for it," I said. "I think I left it in a pub or dub in Soho.'
'A pub or club?"
     'I'm not very good on names,' I said. "It might have been a pub on Wardour Street or ... there's a club round the comer from there, one called the something house...'
'The Red House."
     'Exactly,' I said. 'It was there, then. I'm so sorry. I leave it everywhere. I was wondering if there's any way you could get
it to me. I could send a messenger.' 'Where do you work?' "Soho."
    "I'm in the Strand. I'll drop it by at lunchtime.' 'That would be fantastic.' "It would be my pleasure.'
    'Have you got it with you? Sorry. That's a very stupid question.
Obviously you have it with you.'
"I was trying to think what to do with it.'
    'Well, you can stop now.'
     I named a caffi in Dean Street, one o'clock, and put the phone down, then plunged into my day as if I had held my nose and jumped into a foaming torrent. I'd written a 'to do' list that covered two sheets of paper. It was a mixture of calls to be made, messages to be written, meetings to be held, arrangements to be made, decisions to be taken, ideas to be had. It was like a malignant alien creature in an old science-fiction film. The more you chopped bits off, the larger and more aggressive it became.
    I didn't have time to think or feel. All I did was respond to the immediate stimulus in front of me, deal with it and push it behind me. Things came in and out of my field of attention. Most notably there was Meg. Together we would talk and make quick decisions. Full cups of coffee were pushed in front of me and empty ones taken away. I ate mouthfuls of food without knowing what they were. Then I looked up and saw it was ten past one. I glanced around me, dazed. I barely knew where I was. My list was obliterated under a series of arrows, scrawled notes and crossings-out. My desk was clear, spiritually, if not in actuality. Everything was in a file or somebody else's problem. I gathered what remained into a pile and pushed it into my locker. I shouted to Meg that I would be back in a minute. Meg called a response, but I couldn't hear it as I clattered down the stairs.
    I saw him as soon as I entered the caffi. He was a big man, solid. His jacket was hung over the back of his chair and he'd rolled up his shirtsleeves. He had thick dark hair combed carefully backwards. A mobile phone lay on the table in front of him. 'My phone, I presume," I said glibly.
     He stood up, smiled and held out his hand, but when I took
it he didn't let it go at once, squeezing my fingers between his. 'Hello, Holly,' he said. 'My beautiful Holly."
     The knowledge crawled into my brain like a small insect. I could almost feel it making its way to the front of my consciousness. Oh no, I thought. Not this. Please. I thought of picking up the phone and making a dash for it, but my body felt heavy and leaden. You can run but you can't hide. That was what my father used to