Lady of the Shades by Darren Shan Read Free Book Online Page B

see her when . . . when she . . . ’ He comes to a halt. I glance down at the plastic table, ashamed to think of
how great a time I’ve been having while Joe’s been up north preparing for death. ‘My brother told me a good one,’ Joe mutters, managing a thin smile.
    I groan. Joe loves terrible jokes. I almost tell him not to bother me, but I know he wants to distract himself from thoughts of his mother. ‘Go on,’ I growl.
    ‘Sunday. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday.’ He pauses, then sighs wistfully. ‘Those were the days.’
    I chuckle despite myself. ‘That’s one of your worst ever.’
    ‘So why are you laughing?’
    ‘Damned if I know.’
    We grin at one another, Joe managing to put the darkness of the last few days behind him for the time being.
    ‘So what have you been up to?’ he asks.
    ‘Nothing much,’ I lie.
    ‘No developments on the plot front?’
    ‘To be honest, I haven’t paid a lot of attention to the book. I was waiting for you to return.’ He perks up when he hears that. ‘Also, I’ve been seeing
someone.’ He waits for me to elaborate. ‘A woman.’
    He laughs. ‘I didn’t think it was a man.’
    ‘I met her at the boat party.’
    ‘Shar’s?’ he interjects excitedly. ‘You went?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And you pulled?’
    ‘I did.’
    ‘Artful bastard,’ he snorts, looking more like his old self. ‘Didn’t take you long to muscle in on the action. What’s her name?’
    ‘Deleena Emerson. She works for a private bank in the City.’
    I tell him a bit about Deleena, our nights together, how she looks in a black dress, a few morsels about her background. Joe smirks like a shark as I describe her long legs, soft hair and
sparkling eyes.
    ‘Tasty,’ he purrs. ‘Does she have a sister?’
    ‘She’s an only child.’
    ‘Pity.’ He taps the table admonishingly. ‘But I’m not impressed with the way you’ve let it affect your work. I’m all for romance, but it shouldn’t
interfere with your writing. What happened to your meeting with John Meyher? Did you go?’
    ‘I postponed it in the end. I wanted you be there, given that you were the one who set it up. He said his diary was open and to simply give him a few hours’ notice before dropping
by.’
    Joe wags a finger at me. ‘Can’t leave you alone for a minute,’ he scolds, then digs out his cell phone and slides it across the table. ‘Try and arrange something for this
afternoon.’
    ‘But you’re tired, Joe. Let’s wait until –’
    ‘No waiting,’ he insists. ‘When I return to work I’ll be stuck in that bloody shop for most of the week, repairing toasters and microwave ovens. I’ve got an excuse
not to go in today – I’m still on leave – but if we don’t go and see him now, I’ll be too busy to come.’
    ‘OK.’ I pick up the phone and dial.
    ‘You know the number off by heart?’ Joe asks.
    ‘I have an almost perfect memory for numbers.’
    ‘You’re a man of hidden depths,’ he grins.
    ‘You have no idea,’ I mutter.
    Meyher’s wife answers and says that her husband’s out but will be back in the afternoon. I check their address with her – numbers stick in my brain but nothing else – and
schedule the meeting for four o’clock.
    ‘We’re on?’ Joe asks as I hand back his cell.
    ‘Four.’
    ‘Excellent.’ He drinks up and accompanies me to my hotel, where he steals a nap on the couch while I wash and dress. He’s exhausted. I know how he feels. When my mother was
dying, I rarely squeezed in more than a few hours of sleep a night. I’d like to leave him slumbering but he’d hate me if I went without him, so I shake him awake, ply him with coffee,
then off we set in a cab hailed by the redoubtable Mr Lloyd.
    John Meyher lives in Roehampton, a quiet, nicely maintained suburb in south-west London, very different to the city I’ve been getting to know, with more of a small-town feel. The air is
actually halfway breathable out here. I like