Читать книгу The Map of Us - Jules Preston - Страница 34

Daniel Bearing had seven identical suits. They were grey. And seven identical ties. They were black. And seven identical shirts. They were white. They hung in a row in a purpose built, humidity-controlled wardrobe on identical hand crafted wooden coat hangers. They were Italian walnut. He had seven identical pairs of shoes. They were handmade black wingtip Oxfords.

Daniel had a nice car and a nice apartment in a nice area and nice neighbours and absolutely no social life because he was never at home.

Daniel worked for twelve hours a day, six days a week and only took a holiday when he was told to. He lived alone. He was too busy to live with anyone else. They would never see him. They would never notice he had been and gone because all his clothes were identical.

Daniel’s life was a carbon copy of his father’s. His father had worked for over thirty years to build Bearing Foods into an award-winning company with an annual turnover in the millions.

Daniel didn’t have to think for himself. It had all been done for him. Right down to the colour of his socks. They were grey. Like his suits.

Daniel Bearing knew one thing though. He didn’t want to end up on a puffin-infested island wearing a hat like his father.