Under Pressure-a continuation/epilogue

347 12 4
                                    

November, 1986

Holland Park

"What to wear..." Mary Austin held the two dresses up in front of her bedroom wardrobe's mirror, still in her dress robes and her wet blonde hair tied in a turban.

In her left hand was a bright red button-down dress with a plunge neckline and shoulder pads, a bold choice that seemed as if it would make a lasting impression on whomever laid eyes on it. Another one was a balloon-sleeved frock made out of navy blue fabric, a colour that subtly complimented her fair features and blonde bobbed hair.

"I'll put the red one back," she declared, "I'm only going for brunch, not to see male strippers"

A few nights ago, Mary had met somebody called Piers Cameron at a cocktail party with her girlfriends. The pair had struck off immediately, and he asked to take her out for coffee a few days later.

Piers was nothing like her ex-boyfriend of six years and financial client Freddie, or any of the others that Mary had dated in her Biba days. But those days were long gone and she had grown up since then, and it was about time she met not a boy but a man that was as mature and accomplished as she had become.

Ms Austin was changing into her blue frock, swiftly pulling the sleeves up her arms with excitement, when she heard the fax machine humming in her make-shift office space in the other room.

"Oh god, what now?" she threw her empty hanger onto her bed.

She marched across the hallway of her flat and to her desk, where the fax was with a fresh cover sheet waiting for her in its caddy.

Mary snatched it and held it into the light by the window, muttering, "This better be worth it. I've got hair and make-up to do!"

The sender listed was Freddie's assistant Peter "Phoebe" Freestone, a regular recipient sending her yet another financial request this time. But it wasn't a request for yet another Christmas gift for his children and family, as had been in the past couple of weeks, let alone a flight or accommodation. It read:

"Hi Mary, I have to take Freddie to a meeting in town today. Can you please contact Woods Mews Surgery and book a deposit for him to have some bloods done please? Preferably on a date no later than Thursday 18th December, if possible.

Thanks a mil! Phoebe"

"Why no later than the 18th?" She instinctively thought, reaching for her diary of Freddie's financial references and bookings on her desk.

Needless to say, she wasted no time dilly-dallying and did as Phoebe had asked her, unassumingly flicking through the pages until she got to the aforementioned date.

However, she skipped a day ahead to the 19th, for it seemed odd for Freddie to request a blood test so close to Christmas time. Members of his inner circle would often give her a reason as to why there were constraints. But not this time...

There it was, scribbled in Ms Austin's own handwriting next to the Friday 19th entry:

Aer Lingus booking- 2 return tickets Heathrow to Dublin 10:30am

"Oh, I see now..." Mary set her book back down as she remembered that, a week ago, Phoebe had asked her to book a flight to Ireland for himself and Freddie because one of his two children had an important event that their father wanted to attend.

"Something about Johnny getting a lead role in a play at school, wasn't it?" she thought disdainfully, reaching for her address pad to find the number for Dr Gordon's practice, "He'll go further than his own drip of a mother, that's for sure"

Every time you make a moveWhere stories live. Discover now