It was a short walk back to the office building, showing
the signs of recent renovation with brick pillars and large glass windows,
suitable opaque, with the company name across the front in large yellow
letters/
Two large doors in the centre opened automatically as
they approached.
Anyone passing the office would set off the door, and
Harry wondered if that would annoy the receptionist.
Inside it was polished white tiles, a shiny dazzling
white counter, with the company name again across the front of it in silver
raised letters. All of the letters bar
one were in perfect symmetry. The walls
were white, and the lights were very bright.
It felt like they were on a movie set.
The receptionist was not at her desk, if there was a
receptionist, and if it was a ‘her’.
Harry realized he was making assumptions when he should be keeping an
open mind.
Hew remembered the workshop that told him to leave his
prejudices at the door, and to unlearn all of his preconceptions about people
and places. It was a little bit harder
than he thought it would be.
Felicity inclined her head towards a set of photos on the
wall.
Harry had been looking back towards the desk, and to one
side a doorway secured by a digital lock.
Twice he had seen a shadow behind the opaque glass window. Someone was watching them.
“Some of the staff,” Felicity whispered.
In the corner no far from them was a CCTV camera, watching
and no doubt recording their movements.
For security no doubt.
Some of those in the photos Harry recognised.
Jospeh Jones, titled Loans Facilitator,
Alphonse Jones, Collections Manager,
Jeremy Brightwater. General Manager,
Jennifer Jones, Customer Services Manager,
Miriam Walters, Accounts manager,
Edwina Jones, Office Manager.
Quite possibly a family owned business, Harry thought. It was good to put names to faces, and a
little insight into family relationships.
According to two of those in the photos, Joseph said his wife Edwina was
having an affair with Al, and Jennifer said Al was having an affair with
Miriam.
Edwina, from her photo, didn’t
look the type to have an affair with anyone, striking a pose that looked like
that of a woman in the temperance league at the turn of the last century.
Miriam didn’t have her trade
mark red hair in her photo and actually looked reasonably attractive.
Jennifer was the only one who
looked happy.
Al, in his shiny polyester suit
looked like a thug in an ill fitting suit.
Admittedly he looked thinner now than he did in his picture.
Harry heard the door beside the
reception desk close gently and turned.
A young woman who didn’t have her photo on the wall was standing behind
the desk.
“May I help you?”
Just a hint of a Chinese
accent. Harry thought she might be
Japanese.
“What sort of loans do you have
here?”
“We provide the financial
options for large projects, and we do not deal with the general public. I’m sorry.”
“The name outside seemed to
suggest otherwise. My mistake.”
I looked at Felicity. “We should go.”
She whispered back, just loud
enough for the receptionist to hear, “I told you they wouldn’t give us a loan.”
I opened the door for her, she
smiled at me, and we left.
If Miriam was there, Harry
hoped she hadn’t recognised him.
© Charles Heath 2016-2018