Freeing Grace Read Online Free

than you can possibly imagine. I still smirk at the memory.
    He looked vaguely impatient, turning in his swivel chair, peering at me like a hungry lizard. Then he crossed his legs and switched on his reptilian smile.
    ‘So, Jake. How much?’
    ‘No, really,’ I protested. ‘This isn’t a device to lever more money out of you.’
    He sighed cynically. ‘C’mon, Jake, I wasn’t born yesterday. Let’s cut to the chase. What’s the figure we’ve got to match?’
    ‘No, no, Barney.’ He’s gone mad, I thought. Does he seriously believe I’m here to make demands, in the middle of a financial meltdown? ‘I’m really leaving.’ I dragged a slightly scruffy letter out of my pocket, scribbled in the car park. ‘Here it is in writing.’
    I pushed the paper across his desk. He stared vacantly at it, his smile fixed. Then he flicked his tongue. I’m sure it was forked. ‘Perhaps you’d care to tell me why, Jake? I presume you’re going elsewhere.’
    I laughed out loud. ‘Else where ? You think I’m jumping ship? Barney, wake up! Everyone’s getting fired, for God’s sake!’
    I could tell he didn’t believe me. He didn’t live in the real world. ‘Sure you don’t just need a holiday?’ He was going through the motions now. We both knew it.
    ‘Quite sure.’
    He tossed his head, huffily. ‘Well. I’m afraid I can’t rule out the possibility that you’re defecting. So you’d better clear your desk immediately.’
    It didn’t look as though he was going to thank me for the years of loyal service.
    I arrived at my corner three seconds before Kenneth, the security man, fetched up to escort me from the building. That’s the Stanton’s way, although I’d expected to be given a bit longer. It’s the same in most investment banks, I should think. You’ve become a spy, potentially, for the competition. So once you’re out, you’re out, before you start stealing secrets. Kenneth planted himself beside my desk, raised his eyebrows at me, and then turned his uniformed back.
    I opened the drawers and took out my things: half a packet of glacier mints, and a fluffy kiwi sent by Mum as a hint because she wanted me to come home. It lived zipped up snugly in a miniature felt rugby ball, and many a happy hour we’d spent with it in the office, practising drop kicks and passes. Only last month, Len Harvey broke a tooth after a truly spectacular tackle on my part landed him face down in the wastepaper bin. Mum would have been proud.
    Len glanced up briefly from his screen and nodded at me. Like most of my ex-colleagues he was in his shirtsleeves, hair tousled, looking wild and desperate like someone in a casualty ward.
    By contrast, at the next desk Lucy Harrison was yakking enthusiastically on the phone. It was as though she’d been filmed in colour against a black-and-white background. She’d been away earlier in the week, dealing with some family crisis; then straight on to Oslo for work. I was pleased to see her before I left. I’d finished my packing, but I waited to speak to her.
    ‘Jake.’ She glanced up at the clock as she finished her call. ‘How good of you to put in an appearance.’
    ‘Hi, Luce. All good at home?’
    She flapped a hand, dismissively. ‘Mad as hatters.’
    ‘How about Oslo?’
    ‘Waste of time.’
    She began dialling again, but then spotted the security guy. He was standing still, legs apart, waiting with the patience of a very bored person.
    ‘Is Ken your new bodyguard?’ she asked.
    ‘No. I’m out of here. Barney’s sent him to stop me walking out with the desktop stuffed down my pants.’
    She dropped her phone, rage in the bottle-green eyes. ‘They haven’t given you the push?’
    ‘Nope. I jumped first, but it was only a matter of time.’
    ‘But you’re better than everybody else.’
    ‘No, just more expensive.’
    Her gaze fell forlornly onto the little black rugby ball I was holding. I lobbed it over, and she reached out and caught it with one