Lucy
“I’ll be backin a few days,” I say into my phone as I stare at the stonework streaked with age and dirt. “I’ve sent over some dictation via the secure server, so if you can deal with that, and pull the Menzies-Smyth file along with the Robson file and chase up the Met for the disclosure, I’ll deal with the rest when I get back.”
If I get back.
My eyes trail away from the single bulb shedding a weak light down the filthy walls, across a similarly unpleasant floor which has a rug on it. One covered in stains I’m not going to think about.
“Yes, please give Mr. Howard an update, Carol,” I respond to my secretary who is super efficient as ever, even in my absence. “I know he’s annoying, but we have a hearing date. He will make a fuss, but there’s a letter in the dictation which will explain everything, so you can tell him it’s on its way.”
The chain leading from the rusty iron bedstead to the handcuff at my wrist clanks.
“Oh that?” I say hurriedly. “We’re just about to get on a boat. It’s a trip up the Danube.” I pause, keeping my hand as still as I can. “Yes, Budapest is beautiful.”
I raise my eyes to the window, painted black both inside and out, save for a few cracks in the paint. There’s no chance of me seeing any view.
“I will enjoy myself, thank you.” I force a smile to my face so it can be heard in my voice. “And I’ll see you on Friday.”
Or, most likely, I’ll be dead.
My secretary trills her goodbye. I will miss her. She’s wasted in my firm anyway. Hopefully she’ll leave and get a better job once I’m gone. One that actually pays her what she’s worth, rather than the pittance she gets.
Despite everything, I’ve been unable to get the partners at Holmwood, Seward & Quincey or HSQ as most people shorten the name, to give her a pay rise. It’s one of the many, many reasons I regularly clash with hierarchy. But then I didn’t become a solicitor and run all the way to London for work because I shied away from an argument.
I’d have continued to argue until they gave in. Unfortunately I won’t be able to, given I’m most likely going to be drained of blood by the end of the day and my body dumped in the pit reserved for victims of thevámpír.
I can’t see them wanting to turn one of their oldest enemies. My family has killed too many vamps for them to find keeping me alive even vaguely amusing.
My phone chimes with a text message. It looks like the group chat is waking up. Given I left my friends, save for the pregnant bride, Grace, wobbling back to their hotel rooms after a late-night session at the bar, I’m surprised anyone is awake yet.
But then the staying power of Lydia has always impressed me.
Lydia
What’s on the itinerary today?
Eliza
Do you mind? the room hasn’t stopped spinning yet.
Sophia
I warned you about the palinka
Lydia
You warned everyone about everything
Sophia
Was I wrong?
Kezia
Can you all stop typing so loud?
There is a chorus of emojis, mostly laughing faces and the occasional raised finger
I don’t think I’ll be doing much today, got a headache.
