Interview (4) – Entrance Hall

(New subsection of paragraphs)

As Jim stood listening to the sounds coming from behind the door, he realised that he did not know what Anastasia Litvenyenko looked like. As he waited, he began conjuring up a vision of a middle-aged, Eastern-European woman. As a result, he was surprised when the door was opened by a smartly dressed young woman in her late twenties. She had a broad moon-like face and was dressed in a dark blue trouser-suit, her blonde hair combed back into a ponytail.

“Welcome Mr Gray” she said, pulling the shawl which was draped around her shoulders tightly to her chest and gesturing him to come inside.

“We’ve been expecting you.” She continued as she allowed him to pass and she turned to close and front door.

Jim mumbled an acknowledgement and took a moment to survey his surroundings. The hallway was empty of furniture. The floor was covered with a diagonal chequer-work of black and white tiles and was lit by a single, grimy, naked light-bulb. The hallway had an empty feel, felt chilly, even after coming in from the outside and he thought he could detect a musty odour, maybe even decay or the sulphurous smell of bad eggs.

“Please follow me.” She said, climbing the bare stairs.

The first floor landing was a bare as the entrance hall. The floor was uncarpeted and dark flock wallpaper bore the shadows where pictures had hung in the past. They climbed to the second floor, where she led him into a room which Jim worked out must face out towards the rear of the building, towards Fitzroy Square. Through the window he could see the distinctive shape of the Telecom Tower in the distance.

The room was brighter than Jim had expected from the gloomy and, if he was honest, rather dirty entrance hall and landing. Strangely, it seemed as if only the half of the room, from the fireplace to the window was expected to be used. That side of the room was carpeted but the remainder was covered with some plain brown rough material. The floor of the half of the room was covered with a yielding grey Berber carpet, and three identical modern leather sofas were arranged forming a squared with the fireplace. A glass-topped coffee table stood in front of each sofa.

“I know Dr Medinger is busy at present” apologised Anastasia, with a flash of white teeth “but we will come for you shortly. Please help yourself to something to drink” she continued, indicating a teapot, a coffee-pot on a hotplate and several jugs and carafes on a console table to one side of the fireplace.

With that she left the room and Jim was left alone. He looked around and poured a cup of black coffee. He felt like he was in a dentist’s waiting room.

(Part of the “Tyson” project: 11th January 2017 – 470 words)