expected to see everyone busily working at their desks by the time she arrived and was ready with her explanation, but that morning she was surprised to see the desks empty and all the staff clustered around Yvonne's office, some inside and others squashed into the open doorway.
For a dreadful moment, Elena felt sick with worry. She’d heard about this sort of thing happening quite a lot recently: a sudden fall in new business or profits, offices closing without notice or staff being made redundant. There had been items on the television news showing workers walking out of their offices with cardboard boxes containing their belongings. No notice or chance to find another job, just out onto the street. She approached the back of the group holding her breath, hoping that this would not be the case.
Yvonne spotted her.
“You've just missed the most exciting news,” she said. “I was in early so I decided to have a look at the donations list for the hospice so far, and there it was!”
“What?” Elena asked, her panic gradually subsiding.
“Only a donation for five thousand pounds from some company called Silverton Associates. Five grand! Can you believe it?”
“Are you sure there isn't any mistake?” someone called out.
Yvonne shook her head.
“I couldn't believe it myself so I doubled checked with the bank online. It's genuine, the only thing is, who the hell are Silverton Associates? Any ideas? Anyone heard of them?”
There was a general buzz as people shook their heads and talked about the fantastic donation.
Elena slipped back to her desk and sat down, trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts. Guy Silver ?
Silver ton Associates? It seemed such a coincidence. Could there be any connection?
She tried to remember what she’d actually said about the run when she’d been with Guy on Sunday morning. She’d certainly mentioned the charity and probably the name of the hospice, but what else had she rabbited on about?
§
The rest of the day passed in a blur, but from time to time someone would comment on the donation and wonder where it had come from. Elena tried to concentrate on her work and waited until she was on her way home before she rang Josh on his mobile.
“Are you in the flat, and are you going out this evening?” she said.
“Yeah, later,” he replied. “I’m seeing Pete around eight. Why?”
“Because I want you to do a bit of detective work on my laptop, tracing a company. You're much better at it than I am. You'll be finished before eight.”
“Boring,” he replied.
“I'll bring home Chinese takeaway,” Elena promised.
“Alright. It's a deal.”
Josh had always been instinctively good with computers. And it took him just a few minutes to discover that Silverton Associates was indeed a company set up by a Guy Silver and Graham Ashton, a merging of their names. They were highly successful with offices in Canary Wharf, London, Montreal and Hong Kong dealing in property, shipping and the leisure industry. Josh continued searching around online and dug up a photo, too.
“Is this your Guy?” he asked.
“He’s not mine ,” Elena blushed. “But yes, that's him.”
It was a newspaper article and photo taken at a function in some expensive up-market hotel. An awards ceremony for business promotion. There he was, the man from Sunday, looking impossibly suave and handsome in a tuxedo, and next to him a younger man, slim and intense looking with rimless glasses. Silverton Associates. They were flanked by two elegant women, to the left of Graham Ashton a petite blonde with a neat slim figure, in a silver shift dress. And next to Guy, her arm looped through his, stood a tall, stunning brunette in what was obviously a designer dress, black and figure-hugging, her long neck circled with glittering diamonds.
“So, he’s the donor?” Josh said, peering at the screen. “You must have made quite an impression on him.”
Elena couldn't drag her eyes away from the
For a dreadful moment, Elena felt sick with worry. She’d heard about this sort of thing happening quite a lot recently: a sudden fall in new business or profits, offices closing without notice or staff being made redundant. There had been items on the television news showing workers walking out of their offices with cardboard boxes containing their belongings. No notice or chance to find another job, just out onto the street. She approached the back of the group holding her breath, hoping that this would not be the case.
Yvonne spotted her.
“You've just missed the most exciting news,” she said. “I was in early so I decided to have a look at the donations list for the hospice so far, and there it was!”
“What?” Elena asked, her panic gradually subsiding.
“Only a donation for five thousand pounds from some company called Silverton Associates. Five grand! Can you believe it?”
“Are you sure there isn't any mistake?” someone called out.
Yvonne shook her head.
“I couldn't believe it myself so I doubled checked with the bank online. It's genuine, the only thing is, who the hell are Silverton Associates? Any ideas? Anyone heard of them?”
There was a general buzz as people shook their heads and talked about the fantastic donation.
Elena slipped back to her desk and sat down, trying to sort out her jumbled thoughts. Guy Silver ?
Silver ton Associates? It seemed such a coincidence. Could there be any connection?
She tried to remember what she’d actually said about the run when she’d been with Guy on Sunday morning. She’d certainly mentioned the charity and probably the name of the hospice, but what else had she rabbited on about?
§
The rest of the day passed in a blur, but from time to time someone would comment on the donation and wonder where it had come from. Elena tried to concentrate on her work and waited until she was on her way home before she rang Josh on his mobile.
“Are you in the flat, and are you going out this evening?” she said.
“Yeah, later,” he replied. “I’m seeing Pete around eight. Why?”
“Because I want you to do a bit of detective work on my laptop, tracing a company. You're much better at it than I am. You'll be finished before eight.”
“Boring,” he replied.
“I'll bring home Chinese takeaway,” Elena promised.
“Alright. It's a deal.”
Josh had always been instinctively good with computers. And it took him just a few minutes to discover that Silverton Associates was indeed a company set up by a Guy Silver and Graham Ashton, a merging of their names. They were highly successful with offices in Canary Wharf, London, Montreal and Hong Kong dealing in property, shipping and the leisure industry. Josh continued searching around online and dug up a photo, too.
“Is this your Guy?” he asked.
“He’s not mine ,” Elena blushed. “But yes, that's him.”
It was a newspaper article and photo taken at a function in some expensive up-market hotel. An awards ceremony for business promotion. There he was, the man from Sunday, looking impossibly suave and handsome in a tuxedo, and next to him a younger man, slim and intense looking with rimless glasses. Silverton Associates. They were flanked by two elegant women, to the left of Graham Ashton a petite blonde with a neat slim figure, in a silver shift dress. And next to Guy, her arm looped through his, stood a tall, stunning brunette in what was obviously a designer dress, black and figure-hugging, her long neck circled with glittering diamonds.
“So, he’s the donor?” Josh said, peering at the screen. “You must have made quite an impression on him.”
Elena couldn't drag her eyes away from the
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