If I've got his paper then who's got mine?
Ruth's head shot up.
"Where's Harry?" she said urgently.
"Gone out."
"When?"
"About 5 minutes ago, got his coat, left. Do you need him Ruth?"
"I….it's just…I think there's…." she stopped. Shit.
Harry needed some fresh air. He walked to the river, bought a coffee and leant, watching the world go by. A sea of faces surged past him.
Some, he thought, appeared shrouded by fear, they wore it like a top coat; others had hope shining from them, unchecked and innocent; almost all, he decided, were haunted by some regret or other. He reached to his pocket and pulled out his list. He wondered what that bloody woman had thought, as she read the thoughts of some sad and lonely…..he stopped.
This wasn't his list.
"Easter Chenkovsky, please."
"I'm sorry, what was the name again?"
Ruth repeated it.
"I can't find anyone of that name. It is rather unusual."
"Well, she should be there, she works in your department."
"Have you got her mobile number?"
"Yes I've tried that, it seems not to be working." Said Ruth looking at the card Easter had left.
"Hang on, a sec." The phone became slightly muffled and she heard the woman call out, "Does anyone know an Easter Chenkowski?"
"Chenkovsky," corrected Ruth.
There was some background chatter before someone said "no, but I know an Eve. Christmas Eve." Laughter.
"No, I'm sorry, no one knows her. Have you got the right department?"
"Don't worry about it," said Ruth looking at the screen before her, "bye." The screen told her the woman was right.
Easter Chenkovsky did not exist.