The lighting’s not bad, even here in the depths of the archives, but I have to hold it up to the light to make out the faded label, written by some long-ago biro.
…M…ng Per…n R….rt …an…. …nn.rs…
I take a long slurp from a mug of coffee I should have finished an hour ago, then flip open up the file….
Bingo!
*****
Richard
James taps on my door. “Got a minute?”
“Of course. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted a quick word, while….” He looks back over his shoulder. "…. while Francis is on her lunch break."
Doesn’t want her listening in?
Personal business then….
“Take a seat.” I wave him to the couch. “Coffee?”
“Thanks, yes.”
James waits while I pour two cups then, “That conversation we had the other day, about Charlotte never having had a real Christmas before….”
“Yes?”
“I have a
