Free The Lost Swimmer by Ann Turner

always hated how arrogant he was when it came to financials and me; the last thing I could bear was to be patronised. In any case I felt stupid and incompetent to have let the first Athens account be opened, and I was nowhere close to working out what the second account was all about.
    I’d been part of investigations, on the other side, the interrogator, the seeker of truth. I knew DiStasio would talk to colleagues in my department, but everyone would have to undertake the strictest confidentiality. It was feasible that I could sort it out and Stephen need never be aware of it.
    Out at sea, a light bobbed lonely on the horizon, frail and unreachable. A sharp tapping on my window jolted me, terror gagging my throat as I realised I was not alone in this isolated place.
    Drenched hair plastered over her face, Sally Chesser grinned and shouted above the storm. ‘Let me in!’
    Automatically I leaned across and opened the passenger door and she ran around.
    â€˜What on earth are you doing out in this?’ I said.
    â€˜I was walking and got caught. I thought the weather was clearing. Lucky you were here, I didn’t think anyone would be.’
    Neither did I. Inwardly I cursed.
    â€˜You okay? You look a bit fragile.’ She touched my arm with a lightness that surprised as it soothed.
    â€˜How do you know that’s not my normal state?’ I countered.
    â€˜Is it? You didn’t seem that type at your lectures or the last time we met, but how would I know?’
    I shrugged and offered nothing. Into the silence I suggested I give her a ride somewhere. ‘Where is your car, anyway? Or do you live nearby?’ This tiny cove was away from houses, so I was surprised when she answered in the affirmative.
    â€˜About ten minutes. Work, not live.’
    â€˜Oh, what do you do?’
    â€˜I’m a lawyer.’
    â€˜Solicitor? Barrister?’ Maybe Sally Chesser had been sent by the gods after all. ‘Do you practise industrial law?’
    â€˜Family law. Why?’ She was suddenly alert, like a hawk peering at a small bird.
    â€˜You must be cold.’ I started the engine and turned up the heat. The blast of air made the car instantly cosy and the dashboard lights twinkled reassuringly. ‘Direct me?’ I looked across to Sally and she seemed so young in her dampened state, barely over twenty.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ she said.
    â€˜Nothing,’ I smiled. ‘You’ll be glad to get home.’
    â€˜And you? What were you doing down here?’
    â€˜Thinking.’
    â€˜I get that. I’ve been known to do the same.’ She laughed, a carefree, lyrical burst that was infectious. ‘Wouldn’t want to do it too often,’ she continued gaily. ‘You never know where you’ll end up!’ She looked out to the bleak road, trees bent into question marks in the wind, no lights. ‘It’s desolate, isn’t it, when the weather’s bad. It’s hard to believe that civilisation’s just around the corner.’
    Minutes later I dropped her outside a tiny office that was in darkness.
    â€˜Are you sure you’ll be okay?’ I looked around at the isolation of the place. ‘You wouldn’t get much passing foot traffic here.’
    â€˜It suits our clients. Often when they’re divorcing they want to be out of sight. Especially when everyone knows each other’s business around here.’
    Perhaps Sally could be useful? Although my work problem wasn’t her area, she seemed smart and might be a good, objective listener with a sharp legal mind.
    â€˜Come to lunch?’ I asked and Sally’s face lit up.
    â€˜Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
    I pulled a pen and paper from my bag and we scribbled down our phone numbers, exchanging details, and then I watched as she ran around the back of the building through the pelting rain. I waited until a light came on, but none did. Should I go in and