Deceit. [COMPLETED.]

Chapter 48

"Trouble."   [PART ONE.]

Max stood by the door and held up a small paper bag.

'I thought you could do with something to eat,' she said offering me a tentative smile. 'I've also brought coffee.'

I got up and sat on the edge of the bed. I ran a hand through my hair. It was a mess. I also had the makings of a beard and I had slept in my clothes. I felt like a tramp. It didn't help that I had the makings of a headache too.

I removed myself to the bathroom. I threw cold water against my face and listened while Max informed me of our departure times.

'I didn't want to make it too rushed and so I've booked us on the eight thirty flight this evening. I hope that's ok?'

I said that it was.

Breakfast or even lunch as it probably was at this time of the day took on the form of an assortment of what looked to be Danish pastries along with a couple of baguettes full of ham and cheese. Max played host. She poured out the coffee and handed me a cup.

'I took the liberty of phoning Mr Takiyoma's office,' she said casually. 'I think it only polite. They have a presence here in Singapore. They were really nice too,' she added. 'They've even insisted they send a car round to take us to mum's place which I thought was rather sweet.' 

I really didn't care to be quite honest, the only real thought in my head right now was the whole irony of the fact that if I still had my old job then I would be going back to work today. I would be kissing my family goodbye and the only problem I would have had to encounter was the traffic on the roads and trying to get down to Dover on time.

I pursed my lips. Where had that life gone?

I was still reflecting on that thought when we eventually found the Jane Rydon Foundation. It was set down a small alley and reminded me immediately of a sweatshop. There was no Air Conditioning, the white walls were dull and the humidity inside was stifling.

A middle-aged woman sat behind a desk by the door. She was pleasant enough. She had short black hair and was wearing a white cotton blouse and greeted us with a lovely open smile as we approached.

Max introduced herself and said that we were here on holiday and had merely come on a courtesy call.

It appeared that the foundation was a charity supported by a group of wealthy businessmen designed primarily to fund new ideas by the poorer impoverished people of the community. It was doing well and so far the foundation had helped build a small school, a centre where children could play and learn in, and many other projects such as helping to fund adult education and helping to improve living conditions for those in the community that were suffering with disabilities.

It sounded as if her mother's legacy was helping so many people.

The woman then ended by saying how shocked everyone had been at the news of the sudden death of Mrs Stamford.

I could clearly see that Max's mother had been held in high regard which was lovely to see and as for the son Adam, all we could gather was that he had taken up residence in the store room at the back and had been visiting at least once a month to collect his mail.

'Would you like to talk to the manager?

Max nodded her head. 'Yes please.'

A very young and smartly dressed woman came into view. She introduced herself as Marlene before ushering us into the main part of the building, a room just over twice the size of the reception area where we found four people hard at work.