Free Gatecrasher by Robert Young

reception for him and getting off home. But something stopped her and she shrugged and decided to sit it out. Might only be half an hour. ‘Alright then Mr Michaels. I’ll see you then.’
    She had gone as far as filling an envelope with the paperwork, writing his name on it and putting it to one side on her desk before it dawned on her that he hadn’t actually told her which local paper he was calling from.

 
19
 
 
    Tuesday . 3.20pm .
     
     
    ‘You look awful Daniel.’
    That knocked Campbell off balance and it took a moment before he spoke. He was standing in the corner office of his boss about to ask if he could leave early and working up to a convincing performance but the other man had beaten him to the punch.
    ‘Yeah. Not doing well at all.’
    ‘Rough couple of days.’
    ‘Could say that. Look I’ve not slept very well the last couple of nights and I’m pretty stressed what with everything so it would be good if I could take off early. I’m all over the place.’
    ‘Sure. You’re probably not doing me much good in here in that state anyway. You alright?’
    He nodded weakly in response.
    ‘ No, not really, ’ said his boss. ‘Listen, maybe you should take a day off. Get some sleep and rest up a bit.’
    Didn’t see that one coming either. ‘Probably a g ood idea actually. Maybe I will, ’ he replied, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. ‘I’ll call in tomorrow morning to let you know - if that’s ok?’
    ‘No need. Just get a good night’s sleep mate and don’t worry about getting up early to call in. Bye.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    Striding out the door and swinging his jacket onto his shoulders Campbell caught his reflection in a window in the hallway and saw what his boss meant. He did look terrible. His eyes were ringed and dark and there was no colour in his face.
    Inside forty minutes he was staring at a notice board in the reception of an office building where he finally found the name he was looking for and headed for the lift. Stepping out into another smaller reception area Campbell approached the desk purposefully, trying to mask his nerves with bravado.
    ‘Good afternoon. I’m here to see a Sarah Knowles, ’ he announced with a smile.
    ‘Is she expecting you?’
    ‘Yes. In fact she may have left me something here for me to collect?’
    The receptionist shook her head as she looked over her empty desk.
    ‘OK. Well I guess she is still here then. I hope I haven’t held her up too much. Said she wanted to get off.’
    The receptionist nodded politely but looked a little puzzled as to why he was telling her all this.
    Talking too much again, he thought, but he didn’t want to have to tell another lie in case he gave himself away. The look on the receptionist’s face told him that he had no choice however.
    ‘Owen Michaels.’
    ‘Certainly sir.’ She tapped the numbers into the telephone and informed Sarah that a Mr Michaels was in reception. ‘She’ll be right out, ’ she told him and then turned back to reading a magazine.
    Campbell looked around and found a seat but his backside had no sooner touched the cushion than the door was opening and a young woman stepped out and looked at him.
    ‘Mr Michaels, hello. Sarah Knowles.’
    C ampbell was up straightaway and thrusting his hand out to shake hers. Suddenly he felt very conscious of his appearance, certain that his hair was a mess, his pallid skin and sunken eyes obvious to see. He found himself wishing that he’d stopped at home first to shower and change.
    ‘Miss Knowles. Thank y ou very much for waiting for me, ’ he said as she took his hand and he found that he had no words to say momentarily as their fingers slid together, squeezed gently and then slipped apart.
    ‘That’s OK. I had a few things to tidy up anyway, ’ Sarah said and smiled at him with her eyes. She held an envelope in one hand and was tucking a lock of her dark hair behind her ear with the other. Her eyes were locked onto his and for a brief