For Your Own Protection(34)
‘Something has come up,’ Matt said. ‘Something that means I need to be around here for the next few weeks.’
‘Something?’
‘The college class I teach. They have an important assessment, and they need my support.’
Gabriel was impassive. ‘But you knew this when you accepted my offer, did you not?’
‘Yes, yes, I did. But I didn’t realise how much it would affect the students if I left early.’
‘I’m sorry, Matthew. It’s either now or never.’
‘One of the students, he’s got so much potential. He’s been in trouble with the police, but he wants to do well. I know he can do well, but I’ve just found out he’s quitting the course because I’m leaving.’
Gabriel didn’t appear to be paying attention. ‘Waiter, can I have another glass of the white, please? Thank you.’ He turned back to Matt. ‘Look, Matthew, you can worry about other people, or you can worry about yourself.’
As Matt struggled within, Gabriel continued eating. Maybe if there hadn’t been a vacuum of silence to fill at that precise moment, Matt would never have vocalised his innermost thoughts. ‘I’ve decided to resign.’
Gabriel continued eating, not missing a beat. As Matt watched his boss act as if he hadn’t even heard what he’d just said, he felt the need to elaborate.
‘I won’t be coming back. I’m sorry.’ Matt had in no way planned to say those words, but somehow, from deep down, they had escaped. His first reaction was to correct himself, but now it had been said, there was a surprising feeling of liberation.
Gabriel placed his knife and fork on the table, and ran his tongue across his teeth. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin as Matt’s pulse quickened in anticipation.
‘I didn’t mean to pressure you, Matthew. I don’t want to push you into doing something drastic – something you might regret.’ Gabriel fixed his blue stare on him for a few seconds, before carrying on with his meal.
Matt didn’t really know what to say. Then he just opened his mouth and it all came pouring out. He told Gabriel about his increasing doubts about a career in banking since the split from Beth, and how his recent experience with teaching had reignited something in him that he wanted to grab with both hands. Gabriel let him speak, without interrupting. He just kept eating and drinking, sometimes catching Matt’s eye and nodding to reassure him that he was still listening.
Matt eventually stopped, waiting for Gabriel’s reaction.
‘Matthew. You need to do what you think is for the best. But,’ he added, pointing at Matt with his fork, ‘you know what they say – act in haste, repent at leisure. You’re one of the best fund managers we have, and we want you back working for UGT. But if you walk away now, there will be no coming back.’
‘I understand.’
‘Good. So, my advice to you, Matthew, is to think this through some more.’
‘I think I’ve made my—’
Gabriel held up a finger. ‘Matthew, stop, please. Go home. Think things through some more. Sleep on it. Use that analytical mind of yours to come to a considered decision. Then give me a call and we can take things from there.’
Matt wanted to press home his point, but Gabriel had stood up, put his napkin down, and was already walking away from the table.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Rachel arrived at St Bartholomew’s Hospital for seven o’clock on the dot. Jim was in remarkably good spirits for a man who had suffered a heart attack just a day before. He already had a stack of books by his bed.
‘Thanks so much for coming, Rachel. It means a lot to me.’
They chatted for over an hour, before Rachel made a polite exit when the nursing round began.
It was on the dark journey home that Rachel began to feel uncomfortable. She sensed she was being followed.
What the hell is happening to me?
Once the thought was there, it proved impossible to banish it.
As the Tube train rumbled beneath the streets of London, she couldn’t help but glance around at her fellow passengers in the packed carriage. Everyone was minding their own business. With a shudder, she thought back to the opening of Brighton Rock and the man with whom she had discussed it in Jim’s bookshop.
The man, Hale, being pursued to his death among the crowds of tourists . . .
Again she looked around.
She reached King’s Cross, the interchange for her onward journey via the Northern Line. The doors slid open and the masses disembarked, brushing past those passengers waiting to take their places.
Rachel stiffened as someone pressed up against her. But it was just an elderly lady, struggling with her case.
‘Are you okay? Would you like some help?’
Rachel carried the case along the platform and down to the escalators. She watched as the lady ascended, before rejoining the continuous flow of people as they headed towards the Northern Line platform.
Helping the old lady had taken her mind off things, but now her fears about being followed resurfaced. It was as though she could feel a man’s presence – the man from the bookshop.
I’m really losing it.
She glanced behind her as she emerged on to the northbound platform.
C’mon, Rachel, pull yourself together.
She looked up at the information board. There was a train in two minutes. The platform filled with people like a pool fed by a stream, as the time indicated just one minute until the train’s arrival. People were pressing tighter against her from behind as she found herself moving towards the platform’s edge.