Page 14 of Read My Lips

“No.” Sev folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not about to hang you out to dry, am I?”

“Excellent. And with that out of the way, it’s just a mysterious, annoying noise.”

“Simon, you’re literally on screen.”

He shrugged. “My face isn’t. Mel doesn’t know it’s me.”

A disbelieving laugh barked out of my throat. Sev’s eyes bulged like an electrocuted canary.

“Do you seriously think you can bullshit your way out of this?”

She might be marrying his sister, but she can’t have known Simon all that well. Me? I would bet my life he thought he could. Simon Azie got away with everything. And I really wanted to see him try.

CHAPTER

FIVE

Four pairs of eyes swivelled towards us as Simon creaked the conference room door open, and Sev and I edged in behind him.

A woman from HR, who might have been called Tracy, sat next to Mel Booker at the head of the battleship-sized table, looking thoroughly unimpressed to be there. A couple of smart suits I’d never seen in my life flanked them. Lucky us. We got a whole panel of wrist slappers with degrees in how to do it so Mapp and Green didn’t get Trade Unioned to within an inch of its life when they fired him on the spot.

“Who the hell are you?” Mel straightened in her chair, one elbow poised on the tabletop, her palm-up, one finger skewered right at me. “This is a closed meeting.”

The tip of her finger moved a few degrees to the right, towards the door. I swear the air prickled. “Out.” She didn’t shout. The volume of her voice dropped, taking the temperature of the room right with it.

“Ben Cooper, my interpreter,” Simon clarified.

My puppet hand decided to rise up in a silent and static wave like this was rollcall.

Of course Mel didn’t recognise me. Simon always had their one-on-ones without me. Technically, he only needed me in groups, barring shitty acoustics and dodgy lighting. The government assessors thought so, anyway.

Clearing his throat to reclaim the attention of the room, he continued. “Really, we should thank him for coming in this early.”

Oh what a cock. Mel looked like she was thinking of creative ways to strangle him already.

Praying for invisibility, I edged down the length of the table towards a teetering stack of chairs, seeing as nobody had set a spare out for me. Three full miles away, Simon strolled to the front, like he was in charge instead of the CEO.

He did not sit down. He always did like a good power move.

“Quick bit of housekeeping before we kick off, seeing as most of you don’t know me.” Simon’s words hit a little too loud, even for the size of the space. Way too bright for the time of morning. “This is my voice: I’m deaf, not drunk. You don’t need to shout. Look at me and I’m more likely to follow what you’re saying. The hearing aids only give me enough to read your lips. Do not over-annunciate.”

The top chair of the stack jammed itself to the one underneath as I jostled it, the frames locking solid. Fantastic. I’d just loiter in the corner.

“If you’re not making eye contact, I’m not listening to you. Ben is my BSL interpreter, but he’s not a mind reader, he only has one pair of hands and, sadly, his memory is not photographic. It is a perpetual let down.” Insert canned laughter here.

In my pocket, my phone rumbled, so I snuck a look while Simon carried on.

Gran

Out of digestive biscuits.

Did she lie awake adding groceries to her list?

“Speak one at a time – to me, not him – keep your faces clear, your pens out of your mouths, your arms inside the vehicle at all times and there shouldn’t be any unwanted turbulence.” Simon’s smile glimmered dark, flashing with a glint of showmanship. All duck backs and raindrops. “Shall we get started?”

“Wonderful,” Mel drawled. “First thing’s first – we pull together to mitigate the fuck out of this disaster. Then we’ll talk consequences, shall we Simon?” Pushing back like she was kicking off from the edge of a pool, she rolled gracefully away from the table. “I assume you’re all up to speed.” She clicked the remote and the projection screen on the end wall filled with Richard’s flushed-pink paleness – his skin all high definition contrast with the sliver of Simon’s shoulder. My breath froze in my throat. I needed a six-foot high replay in my life like Sev needed a triple-shot espresso.

“Every major media outlet got a copy of this lovely little clip at midnight.” The wheels of Mel’s desk-chair squeaked faintly as she crossed her legs at the ankles. “It will be hitting the internet at large this morning and it is not going to be pretty.” The spike of the heel peeking from the hem of her suit trousers was lethal. But she wasn’t going to kill anyone. Because only me and Sev knew it was Simon up there too. And if anyone could convince her it wasn’t him with Richard, it was Simon.