Slow Burning Lies by Ray Kingfisher Read Free Book Online Page A

to him the first time they’d met, but had been given a swift and deep burial.
    ‘Not really,’ he replied.
    ‘Gee, I bet a hunky guy like you could drink most of these skinny little boys under the table.’ She lifted her head to leave no doubt as to whom she was referring – essentially everyone else in the office.
    Patrick took a sharp glance around. A few of the ‘skinny little boys’ must have heard what she’d said, but if they did they weren’t responding. If anything they ‘skinnied’ into their chairs just that little bit more.
    ‘I try not to drink too much,’ Patrick said.
    ‘Think you’ll have it completed by end-of-week?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘The scoring code for Zombie Stomper.’
    ‘Oh, sorry. Yes, yes. I think I’ll have it running on a QA server early next week.’
    ‘Okay, good. If you have any problems with server space you’ll let me know.’
    ‘Yes,’ Patrick said. ‘I’ll do that.’
    She leaned into him and whispered, ‘It wasn’t actually a question.’
    ‘Just your luck,’ Paulo said once Beth had reached the other end of the office.
    ‘What?’
    ‘You’ve been asleep most of the morning. The one time your eyes are stuck open she walks by.’
    ‘I had a bad night again,’ Patrick said.
    ‘Another? Bad how?’
    Patrick hesitated to answer. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. I just didn’t sleep very well.’
    ‘You do realize if she catches you while you’re giving your eyelids a heard earned siesta, she’ll put your dick on a chopping board?’
    Patrick thought for a moment. Not for the first time the bad dreams were not only ruining his love life, but threatening his career. The secret had to be guarded, but he could dip a toe in the water, at least confide in someone that he was having bad dreams. He wouldn’t need to divulge details of just how bad they were.
    ‘Need a coffee?’ he said.
    ‘That’s a very kind offer,’ Paulo answered, tossing his pen onto the desk and giving his arms a stretch.
    They talked as they walked.
    ‘You taking any medication?’ Paulo said.
    Again, Patrick half-ignored the question. Telling girls about the pink pills for a little sympathy was one thing, but did he want a detailed conversation about it with some elder-statesman?
    In the end Paulo plugged the gap of silence.
    ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,’ he said. ‘It’s private. It’s just that some drugs can interfere with your sleeping patterns. Not that I know much about the subject. I’m a constant seven hours kinda guy myself. In the sack at eleven, asleep at two minutes past, up with the birds and rest of the early morning commuters.’
    Patrick pressed the button for the strongest coffee available, two sugars, no milk. ‘I get the feeling nothing really bothers you.’
    ‘That’s pretty much it. I come to work. I don’t exactly enjoy it after all these years, but I accept it. Then I go home and have a life of sorts. I don’t get myself worked up and don’t have any ambition to speak of.’
    He took the cup Patrick handed to him. ‘Thanks, buddy. So what about you? What’s beefing you so much?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Hey, come on. I know something is.’
    ‘Is it that obvious?’
    Paulo put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. ‘You don’t need to tell me. I can understand. I could tell from the other day you must miss your folks. Are you planning on taking a break anytime soon to see them?’
    Should he tell Paulo about his family? And his dreams?
    ‘Perhaps you’re just missing that fine British tea of yours?’ Paulo said with a cheesy guffaw.
    And that was when the moment – the opportunity for Patrick to tell someone – was lost.
    They drank and talked of travel. Paulo spoke for way too long about where he took his family on vacations, and Patrick thought quickly and said most of his childhood holidays had been spent on the coastal resorts around northern England. Then they returned to their desks and resumed work.
    That evening, Patrick went home, watched