The Unexpected Coincidence (5 page)

She hurried
through to the staff room and then beyond, to their toilet. Once
she was locked in a cubicle, she pulled out the envelope and opened
it up. Inside was a small piece of paper.

What occurs
once in a minute, twice in a moment and never in one thousand
years?

Amelia frowned.
Riddles weren't her strong point and she'd not expected this one.
She also knew she couldn't spend any time right at that moment
working it out. Instead, she scanned the words, trying to commit
them to memory, and tucked the paper back into an inside pocket of
her handbag. Maybe the answer would come to her while she ate.

It didn't.

By the time she'd
used up her hour and made sure she'd talked to the workers who
wanted her attention it was time to go back out and sign. She spent
another hour at this shop, finishing up with the queue of people,
despite it making her ten minutes late on the schedule.

Toby waved her
forward with his hand as she said goodbye to the manager. He then
protectively curled his arm around her back and walked with her to
the waiting car.

Once she was sat
inside, she reached for her handbag. She had about an hour before
she'd arrive at a shopping centre staying open late. There, she was
doing another signing along with a couple of other authors. An hour
ought to be enough to figure out the riddle.

While she thought
over the answer and read the piece of paper over and over again,
she nibbled on her lower lip. It didn't make any sense. And then it
hit her. The letter M. Of course it was. In her first ever coded
letter, M had been the starting letter as well. It made sense for
it to be her answer at the start of the next stage.

With a grin on her
face, she typed out a message to Myron.

M, darling,
it's M.

Knowing she could
relax for a bit, she took the opportunity to think about her next
novel. She needed to start work on one soon and knew the publisher
was expecting it to be in her Dalton series. Normally, revisiting
her characters made her feel excited, but with the recent events
she felt a small amount of nerves about writing.

A moment later she
felt her jaw tensing up and realised she was gritting her teeth.
Dalton was her character and she was cross at herself for letting
someone put her off writing about him. As if in rebellion against
the idea, she pulled out some paper and a pen and started to write
the opening scene. She could work out the plot issues another
time.

By the time she
arrived at the next destination she'd got several hundred words she
was pleased with. In a moment of forethought she pulled out her
phone and tweeted a good line about Dalton. Her publisher often
told her she didn't use social media enough, and letting her
followers know a new book was being written was always the sort of
thing that got her network buzzing.

There was no
bodyguard at her new destination, but she was pleased to see the
shopping centre had security staff on duty, helping to keep the
masses of people in order. Of the three authors, Amelia was the
least successful but there was still a cheer of appreciation when
she was introduced and shepherded along to the row of tables.

Giving her no time
to do anything more than greet her companions, the first few people
were ushered forward and allowed to work their way along the table.
Amelia sat on the far end and waited as the readers stopped at the
first man's area for him to sign books. He wrote under the pen name
R. Fletcher and she didn't know his real name. He was by far the
most popular of the authors, with most of the horde of fans there
to see him. About half then also collected the woman's next to her,
Shelly Brent, who wrote under S. Brent and regularly had fans being
surprised she was a woman.

Amelia had to
stifle a laugh when the third reader exclaimed about the gender
difference. It made her feel a little smug that she'd got her full
name on her book covers and no one got her gender wrong. The
feeling soon vanished when she realised over eighty percent of the
people were going past her without stopping. A few of them smiled
sheepishly but most pretended she wasn't even there.

Occasionally
Shelly also found herself unoccupied for several minutes while the
fans wandered by them both. When this happened, they would make the
odd remark to each other and soon found they could converse easily.
It brought some relief to the awkward waiting, but Amelia could
only talk some of the time, the rest she had to sit and watch the
other two authors sign.

Trying not to be
defeated by the lack of interest, when someone who was curious
stopped, she asked them more questions than she normally would and
took longer over the signing. If nothing else, it might make fans
of hers more loyal than they already were.

After a
particularly long run of no one stopping to see her she noticed a
familiar coat near the front of the queue. Guy Thomas stood there
looking in her direction. As soon as their eyes met, he waved. A
smile appeared on her face automatically, giving her mind time to
process her surprise at seeing the same awkward fan two days
running in two very different cities. Especially as he'd mentioned
he cared for his mother. He had the newest book tucked under one
arm, but was wearing exactly the same clothing as the day
before.

The nearest staff
member soon realised that Guy was there to see Amelia and had a
quick conversation with him. She could easily figure out what had
been said when Guy was let past the rest of the queue to come
straight to her. There was no point in him remaining in the line
when he only wanted to see her.

“Hello, Guy. I
didn't expect to see you today,” she said, deciding to control the
conversation as well as she could. “How is your mother?”

“Not so great,
actually. She's in hospital at the moment.”

“I'm sorry to hear
that. I hope it's nothing too serious.” She tried to sound
sympathetic but it was difficult, given how strange his appearance
was. If Myron hadn't assured her that Guy couldn't be her stalker,
she'd be convinced he was.

“I told her and my
brother about meeting you yesterday and how I didn't get a photo.
They both thought it made sense to see you again and get one,
rather than wait around at the hospital with nothing to do.”

“Wonderful. Do you
have a camera with you, then?”

He nodded and
grinned as he pulled an old brick-like digital camera from one of
the large pockets on the outside of his coat. The nearest shop
worker offered to take it from him as Amelia got up and came around
to the other side of the table.

Guy stayed where
he was and looked at her, not sure where he should stand. To
relieve the awkward moment, she positioned herself next to him and
put her arm around his back, but it only made things worse as he
fumbled with the hand closer to her and caught her side as he tried
to reciprocate the gesture.

He coloured up
again and didn't give the camera a proper smile, so Amelia
deliberately shut her eyes as the picture was taken. By the time
the girl taking the photo had checked the screen and noticed it
wasn't a good shot, Guy was more relaxed and his cheeks had
returned to their normal colour.

The second photo
satisfied her and brought a smile to Guy's face when he saw it.

“Thank you, that's
wonderful. Now I can show my mum and brother how nice you are.”

“Don't mention it.
Do you want me to sign that book for you as well?”

He nodded and
handed it to her. She paused for a moment with the pen in her hand
to think of a message to write.

To Guy, thank
you for coming such a long way to see me. Having such amazing fans
means a lot to me and I hope your mother is well enough to come
home and return to your expert care soon. Love and Hugs,
Amelia.

It didn't take her
long; she just said how she felt about the effort he'd gone to. She
reminded herself that Myron didn't think he was her stalker and
hoped she hadn't just created a new one as she handed the book
back.

As he read the
message, his eyes lit up.

“Thank you,” he
burbled, and she saw the familiar awestruck look fans sometimes
got. Immediately, she regretted being quite so nice. She never
liked it when people looked at her that way, as if she was
something more than a human, something god-like. It was far too
easy to disappoint someone who thought you were better than
human.

Amelia was saved
from having to worry about it too long by another reader wanting to
talk to her about her books. Guy said goodbye and was ushered out
of the way so she could focus on the woman in her fifties who
wanted to know what Amelia's books were about. It didn't result in
her selling anything or even signing a bookmark, but it was nice
that someone hadn't just walked right past her.

The rest of the
evening hurried by, despite the patches when Amelia sat alone, and
by the time the shop had to shut she'd found she got along so well
with Shelly that she had an invite to a dinner party that evening.
Wanting to at least appear sociable, she accepted and wrote down
the address of the restaurant.

No one was
surprised when the line of fans had to be turned away at the end of
the session. It didn't look like it had shrunk much when Amelia
left a couple of minutes later and got into her familiar car to
head to the hotel. The publishers had been sensible and kept the
night's hotel booking close to the late signing, while also
scheduling her following signing for the afternoon the next day. It
meant she was only in the car ten minutes. She spent the entire
time letting her publisher know she was still safe and breathing
and had been successful in selling books for both of them.

Once in her room
she had half an hour before the dinner booking, and now had the
opportunity to see if Myron had responded to her message. She
pulled out the mobile and smiled when she saw the flashing
light.

Good. Anything
else to report?

She had hoped for
something a bit more encouraging but wasn't surprised. There was a
question, and that at least meant she could reply.

Guy Thomas
showed up again, but otherwise I noticed no one else. Going out to
dinner this evening but don't expect to see anything there. Unless
you have plans for me?

While she waited
for Myron to reply, she neatened her hair and re-did her make-up,
brightening the colours so they created more of a party look. She
didn't have time to change her clothes after that. As she looked up
the location of the restaurant and pleasantly found it was less
than half a mile away, her phone buzzed with a response.

No.

Amelia laughed. It
was just like Myron to be so short and to the point. After tucking
the phone in the bottom of her handbag and grabbing the map she had
open on her normal mobile, she headed back out into the city. The
stars were out and the area around her looked well-kept, with
street lamps lighting up the pavement at regular intervals, so she
decided not to bother with a taxi and walked along the road.

Less than two
minutes later she realised she could hear the sound of quiet
footsteps behind her, heading in the same direction but not
catching up to her. Up ahead, she noticed she would need to cross
the road, and when she got there she paused and used the
opportunity to take a look over her shoulder. Out of the corner of
her eye she saw someone dart behind a hedge.

Amelia's heart
rate increased, but she knew she had to keep going and stay calm.
Regretful thoughts popped into her head as she crossed the road,
but she pushed them away. She couldn't change the decision she'd
made now, and it was better to focus on getting to her destination.
Next time she would take a taxi.

After studying the
map open on her phone screen for a moment, she stuffed it into her
pocket. Having to look at it repeatedly would slow her down. It
would be better for her to keep going at a steady pace and appear
confident. If she was worried or got lost and saw another pub or
restaurant, she could always wander in as if it had been her
destination all along.

Straining her
ears, Amelia tried to listen out for the sound of someone walking
behind her again but they were either gone or were being more
careful not to make a sound with their footfalls. She even tried
holding her breath to keep herself quiet, but too many cars came
past to make any difference. Unable to resist the temptation any
longer, Amelia stopped and looked behind her.

There was no one
there.

She shook her head
at her own fears and chuckled. Whoever had been there must have
stopped at one of the houses. They hadn't been following her at
all.

Feeling lighter
already, Amelia shoved her chilly hands into her jacket pockets and
gazed at her surroundings. Her walk soon took her off the main road
and down a quaint cobbled street with small old shops that lined
both sides. All of them were shut at this time of night but she
browsed the wares in the windows anyway.

She could see the
bright, welcoming glow of the restaurant's entrance a hundred
metres ahead when a car engine noise caught her attention. The deep
purr of a slow-moving car came up close to one side of her,
accompanied by the rumble of wheels on cobbles. She glanced at the
car, but in the darkness she could only make out that it was a
black Audi.

“Amelia!” Shelly's
voice cut through the quiet night air and Amelia looked ahead of
her to see the author standing to one side of the restaurant door,
a cigarette in her fingers. With a large exhale, Amelia picked up
the pace and hurried towards the friendly face.