*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1850802-Thief
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Sample · Thriller/Suspense · #1850802
Professor Laura Foden is drawn into an trap whilst fighting her ex-spouse for custody
Chapter Two

Friday 12th February 2010

London, England

4:46PM



“Mum!”

  Professor Laura Foden looked up from the brick barbecue, not stopping the process of turning sausages over as they sizzled, spitting fat in all directions. Her seventeen-year-old daughter stood in the doorway, one hand on her curved hip. The other held out a white cordless phone towards her mother.

  “Phone.”

  “Who is it?”

  Charlotte shrugged.

  “I dunno. Some posh-sounding woman who thinks she’s talking to a child.”

  Recognizing the description, Laura sighed and walked across the damp patio to the French doors. She exchanged the tongs for the phone.

  “Keep an eye on the food, will you, honey?”

  Charlotte made a face.

  “Do I have to go into the cold?”

  “Yes. Now hurry. They’re going to burn.”

  With a grimace, Charlotte took the tongs and stepped out onto the patio, squealing as her feet touched the slabs.

  “Shit! It’s freezing!”

  “Put some shoes on. And watch your language!” Laura added as Charlotte hopped towards the barbecue. Shaking her head, Laura stepped into the living room, wiping her shoes on the carpet as she put the phone to her ear.

  “Hello, Celia. Yeah, that was my daughter. I’m sorry about that.” She sat on the arm of the nearest chair, wrapping her cardigan across her body. It was cold on the patio away from the barbecue and the draught was coming in through the doors. “What’s the matter? I thought I said no calls all weekend.”

  She listened as her boss’ assistant spewed down the phone. She didn’t like what she heard.

  “It’s under control, I promise. Can’t you get Sean to deal with it? Okay, okay, don’t get into a huff.” She managed to calm the woman at the other end down. “Look, I’ll pick up the work tomorrow. No, tomorrow. I…I don’t care if the Master is breathing fire and shooting thunderbolts out of his arse.” She rubbed her forehead, suddenly feeling tired. “I’m coming in tomorrow, Celia. I want to spend my day off with my daughter and no work. Then tell him that. No, you will tell him. Tomorrow!”

  She pressed the disconnect button firmly to stop the waffling that could be heard plainly away from her ear, abruptly cutting off the noise. She closed her eyes and leant the phone against her forehead, feeling the coolness of the plastic against her skin. Talking to Celia always seemed to bring on a migraine. She was glad she worked in the field and not in the museum all the time.

  A movement sounded in the doorway and Laura looked up to see Charlotte leaning against the frame.

  “I think that woman has selective hearing.” She commented.

  “You got that right.” Laura sighed. She stood up and stretched her arms behind her, stretching out her back. “How are those sausages coming on?”

  “I think they’re ready to serve.” Charlotte wrapped her arms around her body and shivered. “Mum, why are we having a barbecue in the middle of February? It’s freezing.”

  “It’s a little bit of fun.” Laura put the phone down on the arm of the chair and went to the patio doors. She tapped her daughter on the shoulder. “Anyway, you should be wearing something warm not just that.”

  “It was warm inside.” Charlotte grumbled, rubbing her arms under her t-shirt sleeves. She was hopping from foot to foot, her legs trying to warm themselves up in the captivity of the skinny jeans.

  Laura chuckled and stepped back onto the patio.

  “When you get older, you’ll get a bit wiser with what to wear.” She reached the barbecue and took the tongs that Charlotte held out, turning the sausages over. She managed to cut one a little and checked the inside. It was ready.

  “They’re perfect. We can serve them.”

  Charlotte nodded and hurried inside. Smiling, Laura picked up the plate she had brought out earlier, transferring the cooked sausages from the grill onto the plate. Then she went inside, pulling the door shut behind her. Charlotte had disappeared, but reappeared carrying a tray. On the tray were two more plates, a bottle of tomato ketchup, a smaller plate with onions on one half and salad on the other and a bag of hot dog buns. She placed it on the coffee table and set out the plates. Then she left the room again and came back with two glasses of orange juice, which she places on coasters.

  Laura set the sausages down and then they sat side by side on the sofa.

  “What did snob-nose want?” Charlotte asked, transferring a sausage with a finger and thumb to a bun she had got out the bag. Laura frowned at her.

  “Charlotte, be careful what you say about people I work with.” She scolded.

  “It’s true, though.” Charlotte put the sausage in the bun and sprayed ketchup on it before reaching for the onions. “I’ve heard you muttering under your breath about her too many times.”

  Laura surveyed her daughter as she arranged the onions and lettuce on her hot dog. She was in the second half of the teenager stage and had grown out of the rebellious stage she had gone through when her father left two years before. Her hair, having been all the colours of the rainbow, was now her natural colour of ash-brown, cut short in a pixie style, framing her oval-shaped face, flushed with the right amount of blusher and long natural eyelashes, lengthened by mascara around her dark eyes. She was built like her mother; short, a little chunky, but with an athlete’s muscles. She was good at sports but preferred her passion for writing, concentrating on short stories and researching history mainly relating to Laura’s work. Looking at her was like looking in a mirror. With the exception of the makeup and ash-brown hair a few shades darker, Laura looked like an older version of her daughter.

  “You’re so much like me it’s frightening.” She said, sipping her juice.

  “It would be more concerning if I wasn’t.” Charlotte picked up her hot dog and took a big bite, cupping a hand underneath to catch any stray food. She chewed it a while before speaking, her mouth still a little full. “So, what did she want?”

  “Just to clear up some paperwork on the excavation Sean and I did in Tibet in November.” Laura put her glass down and began to build her hot dog. “Boss wants it done by Monday in time for the exhibition.”

  “Why can’t Sean do it?” Charlotte mumbled through her food, wiping a dab of ketchup off her lip.

  “Sean’s in Egypt with Dennis so I have to do it. But the God of Almighty wants it to be done ASAP.” Laura slopped on a lot of ketchup onto her sausage. “He doesn’t want any delays on Monday.”

  Charlotte looked at her mother reproachfully. They were close. Despite having joint custody with her ex-husband, Laura chose to have her mother look after Charlotte whilst she was abroad, which sometimes took many weeks. Brendan, Charlotte’s father, kept trying to persuade Laura to have Charlotte live with him permanently, but when Laura pointed out that he spent more time abroad than she did, he would keep quiet until the next fight. Charlotte didn’t see her mother that much, but as she got older, she looked forward to spending time with her, which Laura did with relish. The mention of work worried her that she might not see her mother for ages since she always threw herself into her work and did a thorough job. That extended the work time by another week.

  “So you going to be doing that all weekend?” She asked nervously.

  Laura knew what she meant, and gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Don’t worry; there are only a few bits to clear up. I’ll do some whilst you’re out with your date at the party on Saturday and Sunday.”

  “I won’t be on a date, Mum.” Charlotte sat back against the cushions and took another bite of the hot dog. “Nobody likes me like that.”

  Laura sat back beside her, curling her legs up under her.

  “Come on, don’t give me that.” She tucked a stray hand behind Charlotte’s ear. “You’re a pretty girl. You’ve never been without a date on Valentine’s day since you were nine.”

  Charlotte shrugged. Even though this was true, she still thought that she was not good enough for guys to keep her for long. Her relationships, which weren’t many, hadn’t lasted long as a result.

  “Maybe I want to stay in today.” She suggested. “Have some time with my mum, whom I barely get to see.”

  Laura smiled and squeezed the back of Charlotte’s neck gently.

  “I don’t think the boys will take no for an answer.”

  “They’ll have to.” Charlotte nibbled some lettuce off the top. “You only got back from Malaysia yesterday and I never know when you go off again. It’s half term starting next week and I want some quality time with you.”

  “And you’ll get it.” Laura assured her, chewing some of the bread. “I’ll get the work done whilst you’re out, the museum can do the rest. I’m not scheduled to do anything else until the dig in South Africa in March.”

  A smile started slowly spreading across the young girl’s face. She leant against her mother’s shoulder and snuggled up. Laura put an arm round her shoulders and kissed her head.

  “I wouldn’t deprive my daughter of my time. It hasn’t got that bad.”

  “I hope not.” Charlotte looked towards the clock above the fireplace and sat up suddenly. “Hey, that new soap is just starting.” She looked pleadingly at her mother. “Please, Mum?”

  Normally, Laura would have said no. She didn’t like watching soap operas, preferring the gritty police dramas. But she hadn’t seen her daughter for two weeks and knew it would mean a lot to her if she stayed. She sighed and nodded.

  “All right. I’ll watch it with you. But you do your homework straight afterwards.” She added in a mock stern voice.

  “Sure, whatever.”

  Wolfing down the rest of her hot dog, Charlotte leant forward and grasped the TV remote beside her glass. She switched on to the right channel and the screen flickered to life. Laura settled back to watch half an hour of boring dramatic life as Charlotte began to make another hot dog, piled high with onions and lettuce, burying the sausage beneath the vegetables. She spoke to her mother without looking round.

  “You want another one?”

  Laura placed the last bit of her previous hot dog into her mouth and chewed. She nodded.

  “Yes. I’ll have onions with it this time.”

  Charlotte took the order and began to make her mother’s meal. She was reaching for the onions when the phone perked up and started ringing. Charlotte paused, her fingertips touching the greasy rings.

  “Now what?”

  “Probably one of your friends calling to talk about this programme.” Laura stood up and walked round the coffee table.

  “Or one of yours.” Charlotte spread the onions across her mother’s food. “Your friends gossip worse than mine.”

  Laura pointedly didn’t make a remark, knowing that Charlotte was right and that she would lose the argument, and picked up the phone.

  “Hello? Speaking?” Her brow furrowed as she recognized the hurried voice at the other end. “Sean? Sean, is that you? Okay, calm down. Calm down!”

  She spoke so sharply that Charlotte started up, almost dropping her hot dog. She retrieved it neatly and watched as her mother tried to calm down the caller.

  “Just take deep breaths, Sean. Okay, that’s better. Now, where are you? Okay, get a taxi and come here. Don’t stop for anything. You got it? All right. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Charlotte’s brow was furrowed like her mother’s as Laura ended the call.

  “What’s the matter with him?”

  “I have no idea.” Laura put the phone back on the chair arm and sat down. She was looking confused. “I’m more concerned why he’s suddenly back in England. He’s supposed to be in Egypt until the end of the month.”

  “Maybe their plans changed.” Charlotte shrugged and sat back, her eyes glued to the screen as she munched down her food. Laura stared into space, taking in what had just happened, and what had got her colleague spooked.

  “Maybe.” She murmured.
© Copyright 2012 Kate Stofer (buddiator at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1850802-Thief