1. Double-Room


    Date: 9/7/2016, Categories: Mature, Author: marlowe, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    Simmons and Williams, an established firm of architects and building surveyors had just been awarded a lucrative contract with a Multi-National Banking Organisation who had recently acquired over five-hundred properties in the Lancashire area. Most of the acquisitions were located in the centre or on the outskirts of Manchester and Liverpool. The conditions of the contract involved the re-signing and re-branding the bank’s new asset incorporating their new corporate name, image and logo. The contract period was expected to be somewhere in the region of three years. He was travelling to Lancashire to acquaint himself with the area and to consider a methodology and logistics appraisal for the contract. His remit for the project involved spending a week in Lancashire, carrying out detailed surveys, taking photographs and gathering corporate information. At the end of the week he would travel back to Newcastle with his surveys and brief the design and manufacturing team. One of the directors, George Logan had flown to Ireland the previous day to attend a meeting with the Multi-National Bank’s corporate clients. George said he would arrange to meet him the following day and asked him to book a hotel with a double room in a convenient location near Manchester city centre. Dropping through the gears and pulling onto the A1 motorway, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke through a small gap in the side window, yawning into a clenched fist and shifting his weight in the seat, ...
    fiddling with the buttons on the radio and scanning the music stations, pausing at The Beatles singing ‘Let it Be.’ A green motorway sign with a white arrow pointing left to Manchester signalled his departure from the A1 motorway. Throwing his cigarette out the window and dropping through a gear he pulled off the motorway and headed for Stockport. Wellington Road was predominantly a tree lined avenue of mainly semi-detached houses on both sides, interrupted by the occasional playing field or public house. After driving aimlessly through traffic for a couple of miles he came to a set of traffic lights. Pulling to a halt at a red light and brushing condensation from the windscreen, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, staring at a sign with a maze of arrows shooting off in different directions, cursing when the lights turned to green and he had to pull away. A red bricked Victorian building about fifty yards up the road with a red neon sign above the door forced him to make a quick manoeuvre into another line of traffic. After a few honking horns and finger gestures from disapproving motorists he pulled into the car park, stepped out of the car and walked into the premises. ‘The Royal Belvedere Arms Hotel,’ had a warm and informal atmosphere. White painted walls and a myriad of horizontal and vertical black stained beams decorated the main entrance foyer and lounge. Colourful rugs formed islands over hardwood floors and a range of antique tables and chairs were ...
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