Mockingbird

Chapter 2

That day, she left her flat when the sun was rising. She wasn't an early bird, no, but because of what was coming, she was very nervous and she needed a moment's rest. She was meeting with Mr. Stark at 11am, in a restaurant in the city centre. She decided that in her free time she should take John for a walk – frankly, she owed him that. In the last weeks, she only ever took him in the mornings and in the afternoons, and it was really a miracle that her flat was as tidy as it was.

After a few minutes of slow wandering through the park, she started running. She wasn't really good at it, but her dog needed the exercise, so she made herself run shortly, but regularly. She decided to run with John whenever possible as soon as she realized that her office work is bad for her health – or more precisely her weight.

She didn't want to turn into Molly, their receptionist. Her whole life she just sits behind her counter, makes and drinks coffee, and the only time she moves is when she buys cookies for Patrick. And for herself, which is quite visible. Flavia asked for a croissant once, but Molly gave her an apple instead, saying she'll thank her one day. Nevermind that the apple made her even hungrier...

She got tired very quickly, so she stopped to get a moment's breath. John-Locke was running around her, wagging his tail. He never left her, never went further than a couple of meters from her. That's how he was trained.

Even though he looked docile, he was a police dog, too. He was not only her friend, but also her guardian and protector. He was the reason she stopped waking up in the nights and checking the locks.

Flavia returned home absolutely exhausted. She had been running until her lungs felt like burning.

"Good work, man." She poured John a whole bowl of water and drank a bottle of isotonic drink. She locked the door and then got into the shower, thanking the heavens for the miracle of running water.

Such a trivial, normal thing. Taken for granted. But some people have to live without-

No, she shouldn't think about this. No, she had to keep the memories locked behind the triple lock.

Flavia quickly washed her hair and finished her shower – just after she covered herself with the towel, she looked at the watch sitting on the shelf. It was almost nine a.m., which meant she only had about an hour to get ready.

There was no need to look very special, she thought. She didn't have to make any impressions on Stark, considering the fact he was a married man. She had to look neatly and professionally.

She tied her hair in a bun, placing a few pins here and there. Again, she put on her dress suit and then, finally, the hated eye-lenses. She looked like a real businesswoman, she thought when she looked in the mirror. She grabbed her purse, in which she put the folder and her recorder, and went out. She didn't forget anything.

With spry steps, Flavia headed to the subway station. She hoped there won't be any problems. The last time there was a breakdown, she was stuck in the train full of people for whole three hours, listening to some irritating, cheerful, monotonous melody.

***

Five minutes before the appointed time, Flavia opened the door to the restaurant where she was to meet Mr. Stark. The guests inside were dressed appropriately for the time of day, she noticed with relief. It wasn't some kind of a special place where women wore evening dresses in the morning. Besides, who even dresses up for his morning coffee?

"Reservation for Stark, please," she said, standing beside the small counter. The man opposite looked her over with hesitation, then runned through the guest list for today. He smiled kindly, when he found the name.