Eye Contact Read Online Free Page A

Eye Contact
Book: Eye Contact Read Online Free
Author: Fergus McNeill
Pages:
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seemed to think better of it and buzzed the intercom.
    Naysmith watched as the door opened and she let herself inside. He was close enough to hear the buzzer click off as he strolled along the pavement, glancing at a small glass plaque by the doorway as he passed:
Goldmund & Hopkins Interior Design
.
    He continued on to the top of the street, then paused and thought for a moment. It was just after nine. There was little reason to wait around for her lunch hour – as long as he was back before five.
    The Internet Café, like so many others he had visited, was a seedy place. A bank of computers sat on trestle tables facing the wall, each with its designated number and a plastic chair. They were all vacant save one, where a studious-looking Indian youth was quietly touch-typing to a distant friend. A sign, printed on sheets of A4 paper taped together, advertised web access for
£5 per hour, £5 minimum
.
    Naysmith approached the swarthy man behind the cash desk and wordlessly held out a five-pound note. The man roused himself from his magazine and took the money, placing it quickly into a small cash tin. He then leaned over to his own terminal, tapped a couple of keys and pointed towards the trestle tables.
    ‘Number four,’ he rasped, then cleared his throat. ‘Any drinks? Tea? Coffee?’
    Naysmith looked at the stack of white polystyrene cups and the jar of instant granules. A sheet of paper on the wall behind it read
Hot Drinx – £1
. He shook his head and silently declined the offer.
    Sitting at screen number 4, he brought up a web browser and typed ‘goldmund hopkins interior’ into Google. When he hit Search, a page of entries appeared, but he didn’t need to look beyond the top listing:
    Homepage – Goldmund & Hopkins Interior Design Ltd.
    He followed the link to their website and was greeted by an impressive page displaying stylish, modern spaces filled with glass and light, but his eye was immediately drawn to the ‘Who We Are’ tab at the top of the screen. Clicking it, he found a section listing the principal members of staff, each with a small photo.
    And there she was. Staring out at him from the web page, that same unmistakable face he’d watched in the coffee shop earlier that day, the same face he’d seen in the park a week ago.
    Beside the smiling picture, he read her name – Vicky Sutherland.
    Naysmith leaned back in his chair and gazed thoughtfully at the screen. He didn’t usually know their names until afterwards.
    At ten past five, the blue door opened and Vicky Sutherland appeared, briefly checking her bag before hurrying down the steps to the pavement. She turned onto Whiteladies Road and set off down the hill, buttoning her dark green coat as she walked. On the other side of the street, Naysmith matched her pace.
    He’d spent an uplifting afternoon browsing among the dusty shelves of the second-hand bookshop he’d seen the week before. The proprietor, a small man with a shock of white hair and a threadbare grey cardigan, seemed content to sit and read until closing time, and Naysmith had enjoyed searching through the stacks of unwanted hardbacks. In the end, he’d settled on a slim volume of short stories by Somerset Maugham that he remembered reading years ago.
    He didn’t look over too often, just enough to make sure he wasn’t getting ahead of that dark green coat. She walked quite quickly, as though she was eager to be away from the office, eager to be home. He wondered where her home was, and what it would be like.
    They came to a pedestrian crossing just as the traffic lights were changing to red, halting the long line of cars. Naysmith was about to cross the road when he saw her change direction, stepping off the pavement to come over to his side. He slowed and turned away, pretending to study a shop window. In his mind, he visualised her walking across the road; he counted the steps and the seconds, not turning his head until he was sure she had passed.
    The back of her green
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