Who Dares Wins by Chris Ryan

pushed back her chair, grabbed her bag and headed out of the little typing pool she shared with four other secretaries.
    She was waiting for the lift when one of her colleagues – a dark-haired girl from up east with a voice like a thousand cigarettes – hurried after her, her coat only half on. Her name was Elaine and she was good fun – Kelly had even shared a few drunken confidences with her in the past. ‘Going for lunch?’ she gabbed. ‘Mind if I come?’
    Kelly inclined her head. ‘Sure,’ she replied. ‘I’m not much company today, though.’
    Elaine gave her a sly look. ‘Yeah, you look a bit peaky. Keeping you up all night, is he?’
    Kelly opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment the lift arrived with three of the law firm’s suited partners inside. The two secretaries clamped their mouths shut and Kelly could sense they were both doing their best not to laugh as they all silently took the lift to the ground floor and spilled out into the foyer. Elaine lit up the moment they were outside; by the time they had walked thirty metres down Chancery Lane to the sandwich bar where they regularly went she had smoked the whole cigarette and stamped it out on the pavement.
    The sandwich bar wasn’t busy yet. Kelly wasn’t hungry either, but she ordered a panini anyway from the camp Italian who called all his female clients belissima . She and Elaine sat quietly for a minute or two, munching mouse-like at their lunch. It was Elaine who broke the silence. ‘So . . .’ she began, her gravelly voice cheeky and inquisitive. ‘What did you get up to last night?’ It was an innocent enough question, but the piercing look she gave Kelly made it quite clear she was after some juicy gossip.
    Kelly shrugged. ‘Not much,’ she replied. ‘Just stayed in with Jamie.’
    Elaine raised an eyebrow and nodded, not taking her gaze from Kelly, who felt herself blushing again. ‘You know what they say, darling,’ Elaine observed. ‘You’re as old as the man you feel. He must be taking a good ten years off you.’
    Kelly thought of the car journey. ‘Yeah,’ she replied. ‘Or putting it on.’
    ‘What’s that supposed to mean, then?’
    Kelly’s brow furrowed. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said. ‘There’s just something . . . something a bit shifty about him. I never meet any of his friends and he doesn’t even mention his family. He says he’s got a place of his own, but he never seems to go there. He’s been living with me practically since we met. He hasn’t got a job or anything . . .’
    ‘What does he do for money?’
    Kelly shrugged and avoided her colleague’s eye.
    ‘Fucking hell, love,’ Elaine retorted to Kelly’s silence. ‘Don’t tell me you’re bankrolling him and all.’
    ‘Not much,’ she said. ‘Just now and then.’ She didn’t mention the missing twenties from her purse, or the wad of cash she had once found, or her suspicion that Jamie might even be involved in dealing drugs. But even so she realised how foolish she must sound.
    Elaine’s demeanour had changed, from gossipy girlfriend to resolute ally. ‘Just don’t let the bastard take you for a ride, all right love? Sounds like he’s stitching you up like a kipper.’
    Kelly smarted and it must have shown in her face, because Elaine clearly felt the need to justify her comment. ‘Well,’ she continued forcibly, ‘you hear about it, don’t you? Young men giving older women what they want in the sack . . .’
    ‘I’m not that old!’ Kelly protested.
    ‘. . . telling them all sorts of rubbish to keep their interest up,’ Elaine continued as though she hadn’t heard. Her eyes widened mischievously. ‘What’s he been telling you?’ she teased. ‘Let me guess – his dad’s a squillionaire and he’s going to inherit as soon as the old boy pops it!’
    ‘ Elaine! ’
    ‘I know, I know!’ She was warming to her subject now. ‘He’s on the run from . . .’ She looked around the room, as