Touched - By Malcolm Havard Page 0,8

eh?’

She grinned and went into the office.

‘Yeah, right.’ Dan muttered, but this time really quietly.

This was getting stupid, he really would have to sort out his life. Hannah was a good sport and could give as much as she took but this just wasn’t like him. Making smutty comments, indeed. Dan shook his head; OK it was mild but this was a slippery slope well and on the way to sexism, misogyny and perhaps much worse. He had never thought of himself as sexist but sometimes lately he just didn’t recognise himself. Perhaps this was his true self just coming through? He wasn't sure any more.

Picking up his coffee he followed her back through to the office.

‘So anything new in?’ he asked as he sat down at his desk.

‘You mean like a multi-million pound investment portfolio that means we get to travel all over Europe business class to do the inspections?’ said Boris.

‘That would be perfect,’ sighed Dan. ‘What have we really got?’

‘Three repossessions to value, a probate job and a new agency instruction in Rochdale,’ said Hannah leafing through the printouts. ‘This is Bannister and Peters, not JLL I’m afraid.’

‘I had noticed,’ said Dan. ‘I’ll have whatever you two don’t want.’

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ said Boris, ‘Is that Rochdale thing a shop? I’ve got a few more down there that I could do with having a look at. If it is I’ll take it.’

Hannah flicked back to the right page.

‘’Shop with flat above’,’ she read, ‘Looks like that’s yours then, Boris.’ She passed over the paper to him.

‘That works well. I’ve got a viewing up there this morning so I can kill two birds,’ he said.

‘So you OK to split the rest, Dan?’ she said.

‘Sure.’

‘Right, well…if I give you the house in Salford and the probate, which is a flat in the Quays, you should be able to do both this morning. I’ll do the others. That OK?’

‘Fine by me,’ said Dan taking the proffered sheets, ‘I’m just the temp.’

Boris was dialling the number on his instruction, ‘I’m sure Ian wants to make you permanent. You are mates after all.’

Dan shook his head. They all knew the facts; there wasn’t enough work for two surveyors, let alone three. ‘Look we all know he’s just doing me a favour until I can get something permanent. I’m not going to muscle into your territory,’ he said.

Hannah was looking something up on Google Earth. ‘Good job you’re not driving anything flash,’ she murmured.

‘Why?’ said Dan, suspiciously.

‘Oh, you’ll see,’ said Hannah, lightly.

Thursday mid-morning

He did see.

He didn’t recognise the street name when he put it into his SatNav but the postcode told him that it had to be somewhere close to the University. He was; just on the other side of the river Irwell and close to Peel Park. From where he had pulled up he could see the university’s Maxwell Building where he had had so many lectures when he was doing his degree. He also had had many on this side of the river too before the university retreated back to the far bank, demolished the buildings and had sold the land off for housing. The buildings were vague memories now but the feeling he always got when he was over this side was all too familiar; the vague, uncomfortable threat that always seem to lurk around these streets.

It was like someone was always watching you, which, Dan mused, was because they probably were.

He was in a suit too. Suits were not the uniform of choice in these streets. Suits meant police, or the defendant, or funerals, or Jehovah’s witnesses, or debt collectors and loan sharks. Being in a suit instantly put you on the back foot.

It also made you a target.

Dan looked around for somewhere to park. Ideally he wanted somewhere where he could keep the car in sight. He knew it all too well around here; maybe this was the land of the loveable scally of Shameless but it was also a place full of smackheads, a place where if it started to rain someone would smash your car window to get at an umbrella. Dan knew this only too well because it had happened to him.

He managed to get a spot right in front of the house he was going to value. He looked at it through the windscreen. Sometime back in the sixties or seventies this must have looked wonderful on some architect’s drawing board. Perhaps they had won a prize for their vision for modern