The Titan Code

19. Lonely Hour

Three days have passed since I've seen Alex and to be honest the longer it goes without seeing or speaking to him the less I feel the hurt.

We've had a basic text exchange just saying what we've done but it's literally the most basic sentence. I have felt a twinge of regret but I remind myself that there's only so many times I can apologise for something, especially when I don't know what I've done.

I have wracked my brain to see if I said or did something to upset him but I can't remember that I did anything. He told me about his Mum, we did a bit of digging, we talked... that's all there was. I'm not sure how it went so bad, so fast.

Anyway with the time to myself and an alternate night off from travelling I've actually got stuck in and discovered some stuff.

Elaine Smith has a Facebook page but it's set to private, however her profile picture shows her in a t-shirt emblazoned with 'Hetfield Ladies' Association'. A quick search found another Facebook page and now I see they meet every Tuesday night at The Bridge Hotel for drinks, socialising, craft sessions, group discussions and community events. It seems Mrs. Smith is the Deputy Chair and is very involved.

This way I can cross-reference the route from her home to the hotel so I can see her movements.

Furthermore I've looked for online articles from the Hetfield Gazette and there's a few times she's popped up, donating extravagant prizes to flower shows, paying for horse rides at school fetes and assorted other community things, but she also is mentioned as a being an investor for a local spa.

Something here strikes me as odd.

Clearly she doesn't work, her frequent gallavanting and social calendar heavily implies this. I'm not sure how much being a small town Mayor pays but what I'm wondering is how they can afford the sports cars, massive new house, sponsorships for a day spa and other luxury activities?

Yes everything could be credit cards and loans, and they might have a big pot of inheritance money hiding away, or maybe they've just been blessed with a fat bank account, but it seems very much about the high life. How are they getting the money, especially since they've only been living in the region for a few years?

I have a strange feeling in my gut that something is a bit amiss but without any further clues I decide to relax and enjoy my night off. A solid block of sleep will do me the world of good.

*

Wednesday comes and I begin to enact the foolproof plan I've concocted.

Tomorrow I'm throwing a sickie off work so I can attend the meeting in Hetfield.

I deliberately don't wear makeup apart from a tiny bit of dark makeup smudged into my eye sockets to make me look unwell.

I sit at my desk and smile weakly as Karen approaches me. Her face drops.

"You look awful," she says flatly, "what's wrong with you?"

"Just feel a little run down, that's all," I say in a convincingly vague way, "I've felt it all week."

She looks at me with thinly veiled disapprobation.

"Not a good look for clients coming to your desk, though," she says directly as I'm looked up and down. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I give a weak smile and nod.

"I'll live," I say wryly. I can hear Jaimie, who works in a office to the side of my desk and is the most unsympathetic person I've met in my life, sigh and go, 'Bless her,' which must mean I look and sound the part.

Karen eyes me suspiciously and walks off and I hide my smile.

If this receptionist thing doesn't work out for me maybe I could try amateur dramatics.