Don't Get Caught

Chapter 4 - Ariel

I didn't hear anything from Danny which, at first, bothered me more than it should given we never exchanged numbers. But if he'd really wanted to get in touch, he would have found a way.

I couldn't resist a quick scan of social media, but without a surname or anything else to go on, it revealed nothing. He wasn't connected to our mutual wedding friend on any platform and I wasn't desperate enough to ask her his full name. As a result, my plan to find out more about him never came to fruition.

A few weeks passed and Danny slipped my mind. I had more important things going on in my life than random one-night-stands. A report I'd been working on for almost a year was coming to its conclusion, and the findings could potentially lead to a change in the law. All my energy was pouring into that rather than uncovering details of my soon-to-be-forgotten shag.

To wrap up the scoop of the year, there was one missing piece of the puzzle. It required a key nugget of information from one final police station in the north of England, which they weren't willing to part with. I wasn't planning to let it go and, after some personal social media stalking, I discovered the police force in question were heading to the Brecon Beacons for some training, followed by a day at Bath Racecourse on their way back home. Perfect.

I worked for OJ Mulligan's Investigative Journalism: a small, family-run business with a handful of investigative journalists like me. I wasn't about to let this small missing detail get in the way. When I suggested to the boss, Oliver Mulligan, that I go to the races - accidentally bump into the officers outside of their professional environment when their guard would be down - he was accommodating. He usually was. He didn't always approve of my methods, but I got results, so he didn't question it. The only hint of his discomfort was to rub his shiny bald head. We both knew that was code for 'I should say no but I'm going to say yes and not question it'.

As soon as I had his agreement, I took a trip to Bristol to buy an appropriate dress for the occasion, dragging Hasmita along with me. Leah was on a date with Christopher - their third one – and couldn't join us. Things must be going well if she was willing to pass on a girls' shopping trip to be with him.

"You think your company budget will stretch to a dress and a ticket for me?" Hasmita called from her changing room, adjacent to mine. "I mean, you can hardly go on your own."

I contorted my arms at a strange angle behind my back in an attempt to zip up the dress I was trying on. "You can come, for sure. But Mulligan won't pay. Can you get your arse in here and sort my zip out?"

Hasmita appeared, slipping behind the thick velvet curtain to join me, her dark purple dress still hanging off her shoulders revealing a red bra. She spun me around, grunting as she attempted to do me up. "You've got the wrong size."

"Oh, shut up. I like my clothes to fit snugly."

"Snugly? One false move and you'll explode out of it." The zip now done, Hasmita held my shoulders and directed me towards the mirror. "Your tits look ridiculous."

I pulled the front up a little higher. "Better?" I couldn't see what her issue was.

"Not really. The races are meant to be classy."

"It's Ted Baker. Work budget won't stretch any further. This is as classy as it's going to get."

We both observed the royal blue dress I had squeezed into with a critical eye. The bottom half was respectable at knee length, but my breasts were spilling out over the top of the low, tight neckline.

"It looks like you've got four boobs," Hasmita observed, turning me side-on.

"Good. I need to get the policemen's attention."