Incarnate by Ramsey Campbell Read Free Book Online Page B

decide. She felt immensely relieved and sleep came as softly as the whisper of snow at the window.
    She dreamed of an office where a young girl and a woman who looked prematurely gray were leafing through files of typed foolscap. “I don’t like any of them, Mummy. Let’s go home,” the young girl said, and as far as Molly could tell, they did. She was awakened by knocking at the door.
    She groped for her watch on the bedside table. It was early morning, too early for apologies or for Ben at all. “Go away,” she croaked.
    “It’s Roy. Can I have a word?”
    She stumbled to the door and blinked at him. “I just wanted to say that if you don’t feel up to it, I’ll drive.” He glanced toward the room where Ben was sleeping and winked at her. “It gets pretty cramped in the back of the van. You might be better off going by train.”
    She wondered how much he knew: enough for her to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Roy,” she said, and he tiptoed away blushing.
    As soon as she was dressed and had packed her overnight bag, she settled the bills at Reception and made for the station.
     
     
    The rainy London streets were dazzling as tinfoil. Drying trees turned piebald in Hyde Park. Molly felt bouncy and free as she reached Ben’s office. She blew a kiss to the calendar girl as she sat at her desk. “You’re welcome to him,” she called, and set about the budget for the northern expedition. The less that still had to be done when he returned, the better.
    She had almost finished when her phone rang. “Mr. Gould would like to see you,” his secretary said.
    She shared a lift to the ninth floor with the head of Religious Programs, a balding, compassionate-looking man with a pop singer’s smile. Jake Gould’s secretary sent her straight into Gould’s office, a spacious, sparsely furnished room that smelled of sunlit leather chairs and tinny air conditioning. He sat forward as she came in, stretching his arms sphinxlike across the desk and displaying his gold cuff links. “Miss Wolfe.”
    “That’s me.”
    He frowned, though she hadn’t meant to be facetious. “I understand that all is not well between you and Ben Eccles.”
    “It depends what you mean,” she said cautiously.
    “I mean, as an example, a program underbudgeted by several thousand pounds. I mean leaving him and his crew to find their own way back this morning.”
    So Ben had beaten her to it, by phone, of course. “The budget was based on information he gave me,” she said as calmly as she could. “And I had good reasons for coming back by train. For one thing, I was too tired to drive.”
    “Do sit down if you feel the need.” He gazed at her while she did. “Are you finding the responsibilities of the job more than you bargained for?”
    “Not the job, no. Just fending off Ben Eccles.”
    “Of course one hears tales about him, mainly in the press.” His gaze grew keener. “One wonders who might have been gossiping, and why.”
    “I don’t know why, but as to who, I should think it could be any woman who has ever been alone with him.”
    Gould was unwrapping a cigar. The crackling of cellophane rasped Molly’s nerves. At last he looked at her again, as he shook out the match. “Well,” he said between puffs, “no doubt you know that Martin Wallace wants you. Frankly, on your present showing I don’t know what to tell him.”
    “I won’t work with Ben Eccles.”
    He applied another match and blew out smoke that seemed for a while to be endless. “How do you feel about working with Wallace?”
    “I’d like to. Very much.”
    “Much as you felt about working with Eccles, I suppose? How can I be sure you won’t let Wallace down?” Abruptly he ground the cigar into rags in the ashtray. “Well, it’s his responsibility. You’re clearly no more use to Eccles. But I give you fair warning,” he said, standing up to terminate the interview, “I shall be monitoring your performance.”
    The next Molly knew she was at the