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A Plea For Help?
Dear Gen,
Did you get my last letter? Then again I guess to have you ignore me is no more than I deserve given our past. But Gena, please, I need to see you, to talk to you, and for reasons I will go into later I don’t want to discuss the details via e-mail. All I will say is that on account of some information that came my way, I find myself fearing for my own safety. Gen, I’m in trouble, big trouble and I need your help… Come home.
Love,
Robert
P.S
Let me know when you’re arriving and I’ll arrange a taxi to collect you from the airport.
- Gena just sank back into her seat after reading that, feeling annoyed, puzzled, utter disbelief… and more. Her sapphire eyes still lingering on the rows of navy blue text displayed on the computer screen she began to rub the back of her neck, with an exasperated sigh slipping free from her lips- “Bloody man.” - He had a nerve. What the hell did he really think she was going to be able to do? She was a personal trainer, not a Scotland Yard detective. Surely a stop down at the local police station would have been of more use? That’s if what he was saying was true, she had to wonder. But she couldn’t really imagine Robert making up a tale like this... for what? Just to get her back to England? No, that wasn’t his style.
Pondering on that thought she finally hit the delete key to erase his pathetic plea into cyberspace followed by a small ‘click’ as she flipped the sleek silver laptop shut. She hated him with a passion and she definitely couldn’t understand why he was asking her of all people for help. But, she didn’t quite hate him enough to turn a blind eye… What if he really was in trouble and something happened to him? No, she couldn’t live with that on her conscious - Ugh, the man still seemed to have a hold over her even now and up she rose from her comfy seat on the plush sofa, heading for her bedroom… to begin the tedious task of packing. -
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