Taster Book 2 in the Converging Lives Series

Book 2 in the Converging Lives series.

Title unknown!

Chapter Eve.

I have a bracelet, left on my wrist, by a man called Simon. I met him on a blind date in a restaurant for lunch, he went outside to take a phone call and never came back.  I would have come to the conclusion, that he did not fancy me and was just bailing out, if he had not gone without his bracelet.

I know his name, that he comes from Scotland, and that is just about the sum total of my knowledge. It is an expensive piece and I am really concerned, I do not know what to do with it, or how to contact Simon. I know I landed up paying for lunch but the bracelet would buy many lunches!

I am staying with my friend Carol; I have been here since the breakdown of my marriage and have discussed the issue with her. We discarded the option of notifying the police, for the moment and I decided to turn detective to try and track him down.

My problem is a lack of information about him; I met him on a word game called Word Crozzle played on the internet, his game name was Night Rider and he said his name was Simon. I played with him for several weeks and we chatted as we played. We exchanged general and personal information; I know he is married to a sick wife and has a grown family. He works as a builder and haulage contractor and although he has not said so directly, I think he owns the company. We had started talking on Beat Messenger, an android application, where it is easier to chat and exchange pictures. He had not shared a picture of his face other than a small thumbnail. Beside this thumbnail, was the name Simon Jenkins.  When I  mentioned his surname, he seemed put out that I knew it, although he realised that it was there in plain view.

So far, I have tried all the obvious routes to track him down, Linked In, Facebook and I have Googled building firms in Glasgow and within a 50 mile radius, searching for company directors with the same name. So far, I have drawn a blank. He has disappeared, his Crozzle game has lapsed, my Beat messages have been sent but not picked up and I am holding a beautiful rose gold antique bracelet. I am concerned about holding it, so I have placed it in a friend’s safe until I can return it to its owner.  Ever since meeting him, I have been uneasy, on edge , on several occasions, I have had the feeling that I am being followed, but when I look around, I see nothing unusual. Maybe it is because the whole incident has me unsettled.

I have an evening at home; Carol is out with a new Internet date. She is excited and thinks he seems like the perfect man, at least on paper! They seem to have common interests, a good rapport when texting each other, she seems to be laughing a lot. I will be interested in her verdict, when she gets home. I hope he is the one, her perfect partner, but from past experience, I doubt it will be so. Funny things can turn her off her potential soul  mates, mannerisms, speech patterns and even the wrong after shave, so the debrief after a new date is always entertaining.

I am sitting at my computer with a list of ideas beside me. I try a site called Company’s House, to see if I can find Simon Jenkins. I have two choices; search by Company name or Officers name. As I do not know the company, I try officer’s name and type in Simon Jenkins; three results, but none that fits my man. Dead end. I make a comment on my list and move on to the next item. Builders in the Glasgow area, this may not be an easy one, but I need to explore every avenue. So I type ‘Builders near Glasgow’ into the search engine. This brings me very few named builders but many sites with recommendations about building companies. I try three of these, and plough through them hoping to find a company named after Simon. Hunched over my computer I sigh, feel like screaming, I am getting exactly nowhere. Most of the building companies have generic names, like ABC builders; this does not give a clue to the owner’s identity.  Having spent two hours in fruitless search, I get up, stretch, rub my back and walk down to the kitchen. I feel despondent; I am really wound up about holding an expensive bracelet belonging to the invisible man. I walk to the fridge, take out a bottle of cold Vouvray, and pour myself a large glass, my eyes are aching and I need some rest and relaxation.

I sit in the lounge and ponder – maybe I could search the Electoral role or Companies Registrar, for names and addresses. I have such a bad feeling about this bracelet. It feels like a curse.