Gray Resurrection Read Free

pick up, he’d
explained to her, but the business was starting to pay for itself.
    He’d been in the process of creating the
warehouse and distribution side of the business when he’d met Alma.  She
was twenty seven and had been working in the department store for a couple of
years, having travelled up from the southern islands to stay with relatives in
Manila, and having previously worked in a wholesale company she had plenty of
contacts that would help him in his quest to start selling direct to the
public.  That revelation had prompted him to offer her a job with his
company at double her current wages, and she had accepted without a moment’s
hesitation.
    They’d parted that evening without so
much as a goodnight kiss, Grant heeding the words of an ex-pat he'd met in a
bar when he'd first arrived in Manila. 
    “It takes time to court a good Filipina,”
he'd said.  “You should never try anything on the first three dates.”
    It wasn't until he'd got into the taxi
to take him home that Grant had thought about his wife and son.  Was he
being disrespectful towards them by flirting with another woman?  All it
had been was coffee and a chat, yet deep down he knew that he wanted a whole
lot more.
    He'd wrestled with his conscience during
the days leading up to their second date, and had come clean with Alma about
the fact that he was previously married.  He'd lied when he'd said wife
and child had both died in a car crash several years earlier, but at least she
now knew about them.
    It wasn't the third but the fifth date
before he kissed her, by which time he'd come to terms with the fact that he
had to move on, no matter how much he missed his family.  Their
relationship had moved on at an advanced pace from that first kiss, with
consummation following soon after and Alma moving in with him a few weeks
later.
    She had certainly made her mark on the
house, adding a woman’s touch to his barrack-style minimalism.  Pictures
now adorned the walls and a sensible spread of ornaments brightened up the
living room.  She had also introduced him to Filipino cooking in a big
way, with Sinigang Na Hipon, fresh prawns and vegetables in a sour tamarind
broth, being his favourite dish.  The food had certainly piled on the
pounds, which was one of the reasons he wanted to get back into his
five-miles-a-day routine.
    The muscles in his calves were beginning
to cramp as he neared the end of the eighth lap but he felt confident that he
could get another in before calling it a day.  He tried to ignore the pain
as he pounded the road, instead reflecting on the great shape his new life was
taking.  All would be wonderful if he could just cut James Farrar out of
it.
    He turned the corner into his street and
saw the black SUV parked up in his driveway, and he used that as an excuse to
cut his exercise short.  As he strolled up to the vehicle the driver's
side window hummed as it descended and Farrar's face appeared, looking
ridiculous in aviator sunglasses.
    Speak of the Devil, Grant thought, and
his shit-filled illegitimate son will appear.
    “Get in,” Farrar said, polite as ever.
    Grant climbed into the passenger seat
and the blast from the car's air-con hit him like a frozen sledgehammer,
chilling him to the bone – much to Farrar’s delight.  Grant appreciated
air-conditioning and had it in every room in his home, but nothing as ferocious
as this.
    “We have some work for you,” Farrar said
without preamble.
    “What kind of work?”
    “I’ll give you the details later. 
Just be ready to board a plane in five days time.  That should give you
plenty of time to sort out your affairs here.”
    Grant stared at him for a moment, the
anger building.
    “No thanks,” he finally said, and made
to open the door.  Farrar was apoplectic.
    “What do you mean ‘No’?  You’ll do
as you’re damn well told.”
    Grant turned back to him.  “Not
until I get some answers.”
    “Such as...?”
     “I want to know who