The Honey Trap Read Online Free Page B

closed. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing nasty about her, it’s just we’ve never actually had a real conversation. You know, like when you
trade personal information and talk about feelings. She’ll natter about her gym classes, hair dyes, a skirt she saw and tanning sessions, but that’s about it.
    A few weeks back we were down in a city bar, checking out a wayward hubby who preferred ‘working late’ to family life. Within half an hour Trisha had him in the palm of her hand,
whilst I acted the accomplice. She was brilliant, managed to tape him denying he was married, declaring his desire to bang her and that he would wait outside for her. We left through another exit.
As it was only seven-thirty, I asked Trisha if she wanted to go and do something.
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Like watch a movie or have a drink?’
    ‘Nah fanks . . . got things to do.’
    ‘It’s just as Maria’s babysitting I thought I could nab a couple more hours.’
    ‘Oh really?’
    Off she trotted and I ended up going to see a film on my own. Bad move actually – it was a fanny flick, i.e. a light romantic comedy for the ladies. A perfect date movie, the place full of
couples, and I felt incredibly conspicuous.
    Ho hum, but worse was to come.
    Fiona called me the very next day and said in the most patronising of tones. ‘Issy, I know it can be hard being a single mum, but please don’t confuse working hours with your social
life.’
    This comment had me gurning: it hurt ’cause it was sort of true. Anyhow, Trisha, the snitch bitch, had obviously blown the whistle on me. Been wary of her ever since, and to be frank, I
was shitting a brick hoping that she, now on the other end of the receiver, wouldn’t be able to see through my bare-faced lying.
    I gulped back the truth and hastily explained, ‘Yeah, Trisha, just calling in to let you know what happened last night.’
    So far so good.
    ‘Fiona mentioned you did Bob. How’d it go?’
    Oh Christ . . .
    ‘Good. I mean . . . He never showed up.’
    Easy, how easy was that?
    But would she buy it?
    ‘Really?’
    The tone of her voice indicated no.
    ‘Yeah, really.’ I stressed the ‘really’. ‘I waited there over an hour and a half.’
    There followed a long silent pause. I was sweating. After all it was her case to begin with and you can get pretty possessive over your cases, especially the big ones.
    ‘You saying it was a
no show
?’
    ‘Yeah. A no show. I waited an hour then left.’
    ‘Oh that’s strange, ’cause Maria said you never got in till 3 a.m.’
    ‘Well . . . that’s sort of why I’m calling in so late today. Bob never showed, but then I’ – think, think – ‘I bumped into an old friend, from way back,
you don’t know him, college days, and we just got talking. You know how it is?’
    My explanation was met by a stony silence.
    I know what I don’t like about Trisha: she’s a fucking cow, interrogating me like she was my superior or something.
    ‘Don’t worry, Trisha, I’ll pay for the extra babysitting.’
    ‘Right then . . . So I’ll put down one hour on your work sheet?’
    ‘Well, I was there an hour and a half, but fine.’
    So not fine. I needed the money and who the fuck was she to complete my work sheet?
    ‘Oh and one more fing, Issy. Fiona said you borrowed ’er coat. She wants it back, asap.’
    ‘Sure, I’ll drop it over. In the next hour or so, would that suit?’
    I’d lied through my teeth, though the ordeal was far from over. Bob’s wife would be called and then it was a case of her word against mine. If she said Bob was out on Monday night,
which of course he was, suspicions would be raised, and considering I stayed out to 3 a.m., my position didn’t look good.
    I was so doomed.
25 MINUTES LATER
    Still doomed and doing the utmost to ward off a tantrum. Max found it really amusing to watch as my clenched fists pounded my pillows in exasperation. Finally managed to gather
myself together.
    ‘OK, Maxy, time to