Missing Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

someone or not, I could just never think of anything to say. ‘I . . . I don’t smoke,’ I stammered. What on earth was I doing? This guy wasn’t
going to let me in anymore than the guards were. Unless . . . ‘I’m looking for a job,’ I said.
    The young man raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t want work here,’ he said in a loud whisper. ‘Pay is terrible and boss is worse.’
    ‘Just a bit of part-time work?’ I glanced along the building. A large group was approaching the two guards. Neither of them were looking in my direction. I forced a smile onto my
face. ‘Please?’
    The young man stubbed out his cigarette. He winked at me. ‘You know with all security screenings is more trouble than worth for part-time work, but I will ask the boss if he hiring,’
he said. ‘You wait here, beautiful. I come back.’
    ‘Sure.’
    The young man disappeared inside. He let the door shut behind him, but I caught it before it closed completely and peered inside. The young man was whistling to himself as he strolled towards a
set of swing doors. Steam swelled up above the doors and I could hear the sounds of pans clanking and people shouting.
    I looked in the other direction. The corridor disappeared round a bend. Surely that had to lead to the rooms where the reception was being held? Either way, it was my best chance to get inside.
As soon as the young man vanished behind the swing doors, I darted inside and tiptoed along the corridor. Round the bend, I reached a short flight of concrete stairs. Up these and through a door to
another corridor – this one oak-panelled and lushly carpeted. As I crept along, voices drifted towards me from the doors on either side – a series of low, male mumbles. Where on earth
was I? And how was I going to find the drinks reception and Allan Faraday?
    I headed for the door at the end of this corridor. Hopefully this would lead me back down to the rooms where the reception was being held. I wiped my palms on my skirt as I sped along. Behind me
a door smashed open against a wall.
    ‘Hey! Stop!’
    I spun round.
No.
One of the guards from outside was just a few metres away, running towards me.
    ‘Stop!’ he yelled again.
    Panic rising, I turned and fled for the door ahead. I reached it in a few steps. Yanked at the handle.
    It was locked. The guard behind me pounded up. His hand slammed against the door by my head. I turned to face him. He was panting and puce in the face. His hand slid down to his gun. I stared at
it in horror.
    ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.

6
A Meeting
    My mouth opened and shut silently. I gulped. What could I say? I was sure that, if she were in my place, Lauren would have come up with some ultra-convincing reason for being
there. But all I could think to say was the truth.
    ‘I was looking for my father,’ I stammered. ‘Allan Faraday. He’s at the Brisbane Media drinks reception.’
    The guard took a step back and looked me up and down. Faces were peering out from the rooms on either side of the corridor. I kept my gaze on the guard. His expression was softening, as if he
were registering how young I was – and how frightened. He took his hand away from his gun and reached inside his jacket pocket.
    ‘The reception is next door,’ he said, taking out a walkie-talkie radio.
    ‘I know but . . .’ Again I searched for a good reason for entering the building. Nothing came. ‘. . . But I didn’t have an invite so I didn’t think you’d let
me in.’
    ‘What’s your name?’
    I told him.
    ‘Any ID?’
    I took out my student card. The guard studied it for a moment, then tilted his head to one side and gazed at me thoughtfully.
    ‘You don’t have the same surname as your dad,’ he said.
    ‘I know.’ I could feel my face burning.
    ‘So why is it so urgent you want to get hold of him?’ he said. ‘Couldn’t you just ring him?’
    ‘I . . . I don’t have his number . . . I just know that he’s here for one