I want to ask, “Do you shag him?” but I’m not sure it’s the kind of question you ask your 105-year-old great-aunt. Then I remember the visitor from the nursing home.
“Hey.” I raise my eyebrows. “You can say what you like, but I know there was someone special in your life.”
“What do you mean?” She stares at me, suddenly tense. “What are you talking about?”
“A certain gentleman by the name of… Charles Reece?”
I’m hoping to provoke a blush or gasp or something, but she looks blank.
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“Charles Reece! He came to visit you in the nursing home? A few weeks ago?”
Sadie shakes her head. “I don’t remember.” The light in her eyes fades as she adds, “I don’t remember much about that place at all.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t…” I pause awkwardly. “You had a stroke, years ago.”
“I know.” She glares at me.
God, she doesn’t have to be so touchy. It’s not my fault. Suddenly I realize my phone is vibrating. I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s Kate.
“Hi, Kate!”
“Lara? Hi! Um, I was wondering… are you coming into work today? Or not?” she adds quickly, as though she might have offended me by asking. “I mean, either way is great, everything’s fine…”
Shit. I’ve been so absorbed in Josh, I’d almost forgotten about work.
“I’m on my way in,” I say hastily. “I was just doing a bit of… er… research at home. Is anything up?”
“It’s Shireen. She wants to know what you’ve done about her dog. She sounded quite upset. In fact, she was talking about pulling out of the job.”
Oh God. I haven’t even thought about Shireen and her dog.
“Could you phone her back and say I’m on the case and I’ll call her really soon? Thanks, Kate.”
I put my phone away and massage my temples briefly. This is bad. Here I am, out on the street, spying on my ex, completely abandoning my work crisis. I need to reorder my priorities. I need to realize what’s important in life.
I’ll leave Josh until the weekend.
“We have to go.” I reach for my Oyster card and start hurrying toward the tube. “I’ve got a problem.”
“Another man problem?” asks Sadie, wafting effortlessly along beside me.
“No, a dog problem.”
“A dog?”
“It’s my client.” I march down the tube steps. “She wants to take her dog to work, and they’re saying no, it’s not allowed, but she’s convinced there’s another dog in the building.”
“Why?”
“Because she heard barking, more than once. But, I mean, what am I supposed to do about it?” I’m almost talking to myself now. “I’m totally stuck. The human-resources department is denying there’s any other dog, and there’s no way to prove they’re lying. I can’t exactly get into the building and search every office-”
I stop in surprise as Sadie appears right in front of me.
“Maybe not.” Her eyes sparkle. “But I can.”
SEVEN
Macrosant is housed in a massive block on Kingsway, with big steps and a steel globe sculpture and plate-glass windows. From the Costa Coffee across the road, I have a pretty good view of it.
“Anything doglike,” I’m instructing Sadie, behind an open copy of the Evening Standard . “The sound of barking, baskets under desks, dog toys…” I take a sip of cappuccino. “I’ll stay here. And thanks!”
The building’s so massive, I could be waiting here awhile. I flick through my Evening Standard and slowly nibble my way through a chocolate brownie, and I’ve just ordered a fresh cappuccino when Sadie materializes in front of me. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are shining and she’s glowing all over. I pull out my mobile phone, smile at the girl at the next table, and pretend to dial a number.
“So?” I say into the phone. “Did you find a dog?”
“Oh, that,” Sadie says, as though she’d forgotten all about it. “Yes, there’s a dog, but guess what-”
“Where?” I cut her off in excitement. “Where’s the dog?”
“Up there.” She gestures. “In a basket under a desk. It’s the dearest little Pekingese-”
“Can you get a name? An office number? Anything like that? Thank you!”
She vanishes and I sip my new cappuccino, hugging myself. Shireen was right all along! Jean lied to me! Wait until I get on the phone with her. Just wait. I’m going to demand a full apology and full office rights for Flash and maybe a new dog basket as a goodwill gesture…
I glance through the window and suddenly spot Sadie drifting along the pavement, back toward the coffee shop. I feel a tiny spike of frustration. She doesn’t seem in any hurry at all. Doesn’t she realize how important this is?
I’m ready with my mobile out as soon as she enters. “Everything OK?” I demand. “Did you find the dog again?”
“Oh,” she says vaguely. “Yes, the dog. It’s on floor fourteen, room 1416, and its owner is Jane Frenshew. I’ve just met the most delicious man.” She hugs herself.
“What do you mean, you’ve met a man?” I’m scribbling it all quickly on a piece of paper. “You can’t meet a man. You’re dead. Unless-” I look up with a sudden thrill. “Ooh. Have you met another ghost?”