Touched by Malcolm Havard Read Free Book Online

missed out that gnawed at him.
    Half an hour later and the report was done and the valuation signed off. Before emailing it across to the solicitors he had one final look at the papers. On the cover sheet was the name again: “The estate of the late J.Johnson.”
    J.Johnson ? The name didn’t ring any bells at all.
    James? John?
    He opened up Google, typing the name in. Not surprisingly it produced 199 000 000 results – literally.
    He sighed, wondering how he might be able narrow down the results (and also why he was bothering to look) but then Ian walked into the office.
    ‘Hi Dan,’ he said, ‘You busy?’ He was looking pensive.
    Dan closed down Google and switched back to the report.
    ‘Not really. Just finished off that probate report and that repossession valuation I was supposed to do I couldn’t get into,’ he said. 'Sorry. I guess that's another lost fee. Well, delayed anyway.'
    Ian perched on the edge of Hannah’s desk, his face glum.
    ‘Can you try ringing round some of your investment contacts, see if you can drum up some more work?’
    ‘Things that bad?’said Dan, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
    Ian just shrugged.
    ‘Look it’s OK,’ said Dan, ‘If you need to let me go then don’t worry, just do it. You’ve already done me a big favour already.’
    ‘It’s not that bad yet,’ said Ian, ‘but it might be a good idea to keep an ear out for anything else that’s going, OK?
    ‘OK , Ian, message received and understood. And thanks.’
    *
     

    @ fear_me_now Twitter Account
    Tweets: 88
    Followers: 216
    @ fear_me_now: The pygmies around me are pathetic. This city is pathetic. Someone will pay again very soon. But when I'm ready. My timetable
     
    *
    Thursday Evening
     
    That evening, back at the flat, Dan was suffering a bout of something that had got so familiar he had given it a name; it was what he called inertia. It was when he felt that he should be doing something, going somewhere, meeting someone, talking to someone but didn’t have the energy or motivation to actually do anything about it.
    It was a bad condition. It lead to boredom. Boredom lead to drinking
    He wandered over to the fridge and looked inside. With reluctance he took out the cook-pot that filled most of the top half. Dan enjoyed cooking and the slow cooker had been a really thoughtful Christmas gift from his mother and sister but they seemed to have forgotten that he lived alone and that a smaller one would have been more practical. This was now day three of the same curry and, however nice it was and whether he had it with rice or on a baked potato or in a bowl with crusty bread, it was still, fundamentally, the same curry.
    It was crusty bread with salad tonight. Dan managed to get halfway down the bowl before he got tired of it.
    It was 7.00pm. Too early for wine? Yes, definitely, he decided. If he opened one now he might be on a second bottle by bed. The slope he was on was very slippery, there was no point in encouraging the process.
    He looked out of the window. A few clouds but the sky was clearing. That was really good. It meant that there might be a good sunset tonight. He could head out of the flat with his camera and tripod. That would at least get him out and give him some exercise and, above all, keep him from drinking. Yes, a sunset over water with some good buildings around sounded just the ticket.
    He collected his camera, switching it on briefly to check the charge. He had always used Pentax equipment, sticking with them rather than joining the masses with their Canons and Nikons, even though he had more than a niggling feeling that both might be better pieces of kit. It didn't really make any difference now; he couldn't afford either. Repacking his camera bag, he grabbed his tripod and headed to the car.
    He knew he was heading towards the Quays without making a conscious decision to do so. It was the obvious place, he told himself. Buildings, water. Yes, that was it. There was no other reason