Fifth piece from the Book - Monday evening
Thompson, relieved of his daily burden at the office and reassured that Taylor was doing what he was told, exhaled on approaching the frosted, monogrammed glass within the street door’s heavy, dark frame. Once through, the door closed unaided with a reassuring ‘whoosh’. In the vestibule of the club a reverent attendant welcomed him by name and took his umbrella. Thompson was no fool. In addition to an umbrella – of which he was rather satisfied he had need this evening – he often carried an overcoat, albeit May.
He felt lighter. The team were on the case and Clark would be rounded up very soon. Couldn’t leave the man wandering around with impunity doing goodness knows what. Slapped wrist for Thompson maybe, but Clark would suffer much worse. He made his way through the familiar vast hallway, ornate balustrades signalling each floor above and a central chandelier giving a warm light in the windowless arena. A thick runner masked his footsteps along a stately corridor, and he entered a large lounge peppered with sofas and easy chairs of various shapes and materials. A few were in well-seasoned leather that members were loath to part with despite recent renovations. This wasn’t just a sanctuary, an aged institution offering respite and renewal. It also offered him news. Men were not immune to the pull from idle gossip, and here you could learn a lot. Before taking his seat he nodded occasionally to members he knew and surveyed the current assembly. As he unbuttoned his jacket and bent slightly to sit he almost hovered when sighting Taylor at the far side of the room, in intense conversation with an unknown figure, an older man, like himself, but wearing a cheaper suit. They hadn’t seen him, and he sat in one of the favoured leather chairs opening his newspaper with finality. An amber liquid arrived in a heavy glass and sat beside him, beckoning, its silken texture promising restoration. Thompson ignored it temporarily, irritated by Taylor’s presence. He’d managed to avoid him here so far, discretely retiring to the bar if necessary. He’d rather that than be witness to the self-satisfied preening, the parading of family ties, assured of a right to this life and its rewards. Thompson wasn’t a fan. Ambition’s ok in the right hands without the tiresome leg-up that was surely old hat these days. But he was keen to know who the other man was so stayed put. Occasionally he glanced across the room, his eyes eventually falling on where they sat. A full view was obscured and he felt ridiculous looking around innocently while possibly over-reaching for his drink in order to adjust his position. Taylor and his companion sat in close conversation. They seemed barely aware of anything or anyone around them. The occasional hand gesture for emphasis spoke of serious business, or was someone about to get a knighthood? Thompson watched and sipped. As if sensing Thompson’s interest Taylor and his guest stood to leave the vast room. They nodded respectfully to the men they passed on exiting but didn’t once glance further afield. This was a place to be obscure if that’s what you wanted, something that Taylor’s guest had achieved and Thompson usually respected. He watched from over the top of his newspaper and mentally recorded the stranger’s appearance and demeanour. Shouldn’t take long to find out who he is he thought. |
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