"Jeez, Clara if you'd wanted to see me, you could have called," Cal joked, shifting his feet back and forth in his usual manner.
She rested her chin on her fists and smiled. "Cal!" she suddenly said. She raised her arms wide into the air and stepping towards Cal, flew them around his neck.
Cal didn't make a move as she planted a giant kiss on his mouth.
Gillian clenched her fist at her side. The lady's gone off her rocker, Gillian thought. And then she frowned at herself for thinking such a non-professional analysis.
Clara walked back to her seat, her white blouse slightly see-through and her black skirt hugging her hips.
"Please sit" she said to know one in particular. She hadn't once looked at Gillian, and that fact hadn't escaped Cal's mind.
No one moved.
"I said SIT!" Clara screamed.
The men who had brought them there earlier suddenly pulled out guns and pointed them at Cal and Gillian's heads.
There was a gasp from Gillian, and a slight whimper.
"Ok, ok," Cal said. "Let's all play nice then."
He shot Gillian an apologetic look, but he didn't think she saw.
He was joking around with Clara but inside he wanted to shake her and demand answers.
That wouldn't be like him though, and as he took a seat, he wondered what in the world had led to this.
...
As soon as Ria had found Cal's phone and car abandoned in the car park, she had grown worried.
"It's probably nothing," she had told Reynolds, but her voice had given her away.
Reynolds went to see Gillian, after she too had failed to answer her phone.
At her house he had been shocked to find the front door ajar, and blood drops leading back to the bedroom.
"Jesus," he had said to himself. And then he called for backup.
...
Peculiarly, Clara began with some light chatter. "Tea any one?" she asked, looking from the masked men to Cal." "Suit, yourselves then," and she poured herself a drink from a porcelain pot. "I'd offer you something stronger but at times like these I thought it best to keep a clear head." She smiled wickedly – a look Cal had only seen a few times before.
"How's Emily?" Clara tilted her head at Cal.
Cal jumped to his feet, unwilling and unable to listen to her rambling any further. "What do you want Clara?" he demanded.
Clara frowned, looking genuinely hurt and sadden by Cal's outburst. One of the men grabbed Cal by the shoulders and shoved him back into his seat.
It was then Gillian, who had been sitting quietly, decided to speak next.
"Clara I don't know why you're angry but..." she suddenly stopped as she caught the look on Clara's face. Cal had seen it too of course – the deepest look of disgust and anger.
"Gillian, Gillian," Clara smiled. "So nice of you to come, but seriously you could have dressed up a little better," she smirked.
Gillian twisted her hands in her lap nervously.
"And oh dear, did you hurt your head?" Clara pretended to see the blood stains for the first time.
There was fear in Gillian's face but something else. She shifted her weight and puffed out her chest ever so slightly. That's my girl, Cal thought, the strong one. He was proud of her and he made a mental note to tell her later. Later, when and if they ever got out of here.
"Cal, look at me!" Clara slammed her fist onto the table. She stood with her hands still on the table and took a few deep breaths. Then she stood up straight and smiled.
"Cal, Cal, Cal," she lightly laughed. She took a few steps towards him and lightly stroked his chest. The delicately manicured nails and perfect makeup, which had once made Cal think she was beautiful, now made him cringe.
"Why do you look at her like that, Why?" she began to sob.
"Please, I can't be near them anymore" and she sat back down and buried her face in her arms.
The men grabbed Cal and Gillian again and forcefully pushed them back down the corridor.
"Clara! Clara, what are you going to do, what do you want!" Cal shouted as he was pushed and shoved away.
But with her face hidden, Clara didn't say or show anything.