Cecelia Ahern - One Hundred Names

He led them to a waiting room. ‘Wait here, he’ll be with you shortly.’

Eva sat down and Kitty wandered around the room examining everything. They were very different creatures, that was for sure. Eva was the type to do what she was told, follow orders and be polite. Kitty couldn’t, she never could. She always felt there was something she wasn’t being let in on, something further to what she saw, and she always wanted to know what that was. She had always been profoundly curious as a child, trying to see through façades and uncover secrets people hid away for no reason other than because they felt the secrets meant something, though in reality they probably didn’t to anybody else. At college she would separate from her friends on nights out and usually end up sitting beside the person she considered to be the most interesting, challenging, complex person in the room, while she listened to their fascinating stories. She sought out unusual minds, loved hearing both the mundane and fantastical. She didn’t believe that what you saw was necessarily all there was and she felt a burning desire to discover what was really beyond the layers of each person. It was this fascination and, indeed, love for people that she brought to her stories in Etcetera and perhaps this love for people had not transferred well in her stories on Thirty Minutes. While working there and covering investigative stories, her love had changed to distrust, a need to know what people were hiding from her. Her usual skills of simple conversation and understanding had been altered to game playing, trying to get people to speak without their realising it, trying to get quotes from people who didn’t wish to be quoted. She went about telling stories in a completely different way.

She paused at this sudden insight into herself, thinking Steve perhaps had been right. Steve, her long-time friend, whom she rarely had a deep conversation with, had known more about her than she had known herself. She felt goose bumps on her skin all of a sudden and looked up to see what had caused them.

She noticed then that Eva was watching her as she moved around the room examining the art on the walls but really examining herself, and this all of a sudden made Kitty feel uncomfortable. Observing was her job, the cloak of invisibility that came when watching others was what helped her gain insight, and Eva was taking that role from her. It was unnerving, unnatural for a watcher to be watched and it put her on edge. Kitty gave up prowling around the room and sank into one of the leather chairs.

The door opened and George Webb entered the room.

‘Hello,’ he said, a big smile with perfect teeth greeting the women as he looked from Kitty to Eva. ‘Ms Wu, I assume,’ he said, looking at Eva. It was the obvious choice. She was oriental, her long hair thick and silky, and so black it almost gave off a blue hue where the light hit. Her skin was flawless, she barely wore any make-up, but she didn’t need to: she was blemish free and strikingly pretty.

‘Well, it’s not me,’ Kitty joked.

‘This is Kath-Kitty Logan,’ Nigel said, joining them in the room. ‘She’s a journalist for Etcetera .’ He raised a perfect eyebrow at her as if to say she couldn’t get one past him.

George Webb seemed confused.

‘It’s a magazine,’ Nigel explained. ‘Not one you’d read.’

‘But you do,’ Kitty smiled at Nigel.

‘No. I Googled you.’

Kitty laughed. ‘I’m doing a story on Ms Wu,’ Kitty explained. ‘But please don’t worry, everything will be about her, not her clients. No names will be mentioned. I simply want to get an idea of how she works.’ If the story was indeed about how Eva worked, or if it was about something else entirely. So far, Kitty had no clue whatsoever but she tried to sound confident in her sale.

George Webb thought about it. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Sounds fine to me. You’re a popular lady,’ he added, sitting opposite Eva and studying her.

George was striking, extremely handsome, well groomed in that modern Irishman way, with two separate eyebrows, tweezed nose hairs, attention to the finer detail of his face without embarrassment. He wore a smart suit, nothing too elaborate, but stylish and fitted. Eva was looking at him with the face of somebody who was looking at something beautiful, just as he was looking at her. The mutual attraction was obvious. It was as if Kitty wasn’t even in the room, which was how she liked it – when she was working, at least. She was going to enjoy this one.

‘I got your details from Nigel,’ George explained. ‘He told me you were the best.’

Nigel, who was making them coffee, threw them a look, annoyed. Kitty knew he was the reason they were there when he had gone out of his way to be so entertainingly rude.

‘Well, that’s very nice of Nigel,’ Eva said softly, genuinely moved.

‘I also believe you worked with a neighbour of mine, well, a neighbour here at work. Elizabeth Toomey?’ George continued.

‘Ah, yes.’ Eva’s eyes lit up. ‘She works across the road in PricewaterhouseCoopers.’

‘Did you hear she got a promotion in January?’

‘Yes, I heard. I was delighted for her.’

‘Her boss must really have liked that gift you got for him.’

Eva immediately closed up. Kitty could see the transformation right before her, like an insect going into a cocoon. George could sense it too.

‘I think she deserved it. It appeared to me that she worked extremely hard,’ was all Eva said.

‘I think your gift helped,’ he laughed.

Kitty was surprised at him. He was clever enough to leave it alone but he couldn’t, he was desperate to find out and his desperation showed. Knowing Eva’s philosophy on client confidentiality, Kitty feared this did not bode well for the charming George.

Eva just smiled.

‘So what was it?’ he asked, and looked at Kitty. ‘I bet you want to know.’

Kitty held her hands up as if to back out of it. ‘I’m merely an observer here.’

A gift that could get someone a promotion? Of course she wanted to know, and she wanted to know where she could buy it too. The sound was so light she could have imagined it but she was sure she heard a light snort as Nigel put the coffee cup down before her.

Nigel stepped in to explain. ‘What Mr Webb brought you here for today was to discuss his upcoming family gathering. They’re having a big reunion. Lots of people coming together, it’s very exciting for them all,’ he said drily and Eva, Kitty and George couldn’t help but laugh. ‘His sister is also getting married, it’s his grandfather’s eightieth birthday and they’ve decided to put it all into the same wonderful celebration day. Mr Webb quite simply needs your help.’

‘Thanks, Nigel,’ George said, and on that note Nigel left the room. George looked at his watch and seemed concerned.

Kitty sensed their time was up. Nigel had done what he was supposed to do, George had politely made time for the woman and now it was over. She drank her coffee quickly.

George looked at Eva. ‘What do you think?’

‘I’m sorry, what do I think about what?’

‘About taking the job.’

‘Where are your family based?’

George seemed confused. ‘Cork.’

‘When is the event?’

‘Here’s the thing, I haven’t been terribly organised. It’s next week. Friday. But Nigel – or I – can give you all the details you’re looking for.’ He leaned forward, his face intent. If Eva was any less beautiful, Kitty suspected George would have left the room a long time ago.

‘That’s very close. I usually take a few weeks at the very least.’

‘Weeks?’ George’s surprise reflected Kitty’s feelings exactly.