All in the Mind Page 3

  There was a tentative knock at the door and Lucy came in looking shamefaced.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’d never have let Mr Fitzgibbon in here like that. He must have come in when I popped out.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Sarah interrupted. ‘I know it’s not your fault.’ Feeling more weary than she cared to admit, she pulled herself to her feet. ‘Be an angel and make me a coffee. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  The door to George’s office was open. She looked in but he wasn’t there. Perhaps he had gone to the Administration Office. Oh well, as she had sounded off at him in everyone’s hearing, it was only justice for her to have to make her peace in public. Several heads looked up when she went in. George was standing in the far corner by the fax machine. All eyes followed Sarah as she walked across the vast expanse of the open plan office that occupied the whole of one side of the top wing of the building. Although each work section was screened off, everyone could see where she was going and the usual hubbub slowly subsided in anticipation.

  As she approached, he looked up, his hooded eyes wary. She stood before him and took a deep breath. ‘George, I had no right to speak to you like that and I’ve come to apologise.’

  Even the clack of computer keys stilled as every ear strained to hear what she was saying.

  The look of surprise on the gaunt features gradually turned to one of injured dignity. He took off his spectacles and began to clean the lenses vigorously with his handkerchief. Behind her, no one stirred.

  She had never found it easy to eat humble pie. As George stood silently intent on his task, she had to bite back the inclination to snap that he was the one in the wrong by going into her office and switching on her machine. She tried to remind herself that he was good at his job. He was a superb administrator with a meticulous eye for detail. No report left his desk with a mistake or a single grammatical error. In many ways they were a good team – she came up with the ideas and he provided the detailed follow-up work.

  His task completed, he looked up at her and said quietly, ‘Apology accepted.’ He turned and continued feeding paper into the fax machine.

  As she made her way back across the room, heads suddenly became buried in newfound tasks and the bustle resumed.

  Returning to her own office, she found Barry Waterhouse perched on the edge of Lucy’s desk waiting for her.

  ‘You look awful. Should you be here?’ The overt familiarity grated, but it was probably his way of trying to show sympathy.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she snapped. ‘Was there something you wanted?’

  ‘Just to tell you I had a letter from that college in Cheshire.’

  ‘Does that mean you got the job?’

  ‘’Fraid not.’

  Sarah made all the right noises. She was sorry for him, of course she was, he’d been so confident, especially after he’d been called back for a second interview, but she really wasn’t in a state to worry about anyone else’s problems at the moment.

  ‘Your coffee is on your desk,’ interrupted Lucy.

  Lucy ushered Sarah into her room and fussed around until she was sitting comfortably in her chair.

  ‘You really do look exhausted.’

  ‘It was my dignity that was hurt more than anything,’ she assured them. ‘In fact, it got severely dented. When it was all over and everyone was fussing round me, I ended up howling like a baby. Made a right fool of myself,’ she finished with a laugh.

  They both looked at her incredulously.

  ‘You!’ Barry could hardly hold back the loud guffaws. Even Lucy began to giggle.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she spluttered. ‘I know we shouldn’t laugh but the thought of you of all people, reduced to tears.’

  ‘The Steel Queen herself.’

  Though she feigned surprise, Sarah was well aware of her nickname amongst the staff. She also knew, despite his laugh, that it was not a term of affection. She would have been a fool not to appreciate that she was bitterly resented in many quarters, not least because of the large number of staff redundancies since her appointment. It was true that she didn’t suffer fools gladly and that she had no compunction in getting rid of much of the dead wood that had been mouldering around for far too long but it didn’t give her any satisfaction to be thought of as cold and remote.

  ‘So that’s what they call me behind my back, is it?’ she said with a mock frown.

  ‘Only when you’re in one of your good moods. Most days it’s unrepeatable,’ Barry answered in the same flippant tone.

  ‘Yes, it probably is after that little contretemps just now,’ she said, injecting a note of seriousness into the mood.

  ‘Don’t let George get to you. You know what an old woman he is.’

  ‘The cheek of the man!’ It would be some time before Lucy forgave him. ‘I’ll swear he waited until he knew I’d be downstairs.’

  ‘No harm done,’ Sarah said trying to calm her down. ‘It’s all over and done with now. And it’s high time we all got back to work.’

  Lucy looked at her sternly. ‘You look washed out. You should be at home taking it easy.’

  ‘She’s right,’ agreed Barry. ‘If you carry on now it will take twice as long before you’re back on form and you’ll end up having to take even more time off. This place won’t fall apart without you for a couple of days. Put your feet up; watch television, read a book. Spoil yourself and, for once in your life, forget about work.’

  The way she felt, she knew they were right. In the end, it was easier to give in and return to her flat.

  The first of the phone calls came that evening.

  Chapter 5

  Sarah stared up at the flickering screen and tried to concentrate on the film once more. The predictable plot was so trite it had failed to hold Sarah’s attention sufficiently to wipe out all thought of those strange phone calls. At first, when no one had answered, she had assumed that it was some call centre using an automated dialler, but surely not half a dozen times the same evening. And then last night had come the heavy breathing. Was it just some idiot trying random numbers or was she being targeted deliberately and if so, by whom? And why? Her number was ex-directory so it was unlikely to be a student. It was easy enough to tell herself to ignore them, and that it was stupid to let them unsettle her, but she was finding that increasingly difficult to do.

  When the credits began to roll and people started moving, she turned to Elizabeth. ‘I enjoyed that,’ she lied. ‘Haven’t been to a decent weepy in ages.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Elizabeth slipped her arm through Sarah’s to stop them being swept apart by the crowd as they made their way up the gentle ramp to the exit. ‘Graham wouldn’t be seen dead at a chick flick.’

  ‘Shall we go for a drink or do you fancy coming back to my place for coffee?’

  ‘To tell you the truth, all that emotional drama has made me peckish.’

  They settled on the pizza place a few hundred yards from the multiplex. At least in a public place there would be plenty of distraction.

  ‘Sorry I was such a misery when you brought me home the other day.’

  ‘Think nothing of it. Being attacked by a yob in broad daylight in the middle of town does tend to take the sparkle out of one’s persona.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Sarah laughed. ‘But that’s no excuse for wallowing in self-pity.’

  Once they had ordered, Elizabeth took a small package from her handbag.

  ‘This is for you.’ She put it in front of Sarah. ‘It’s something I know you’ll never get for yourself but I’d feel a lot better knowing you had one.’

  Sarah opened the paper bag and pulled out a cardboard box.

  ‘I appreciate you’ve always said mobile phones are an invasion of privacy but you don’t have to give anyone your number. Keep it just for emergencies. With all the driving you do, it’s only sensible to have one in case that fabulous car of yours breaks down. Save you wandering about trying to find a phone box. And before you say anything about the cost of rental, it’s o
ne of these pay-as-you-go things.’ She eventually drew breath and stared at Sarah defiantly.

  Sarah leant across the table and put her hand on Elizabeth’s. ‘I don’t deserve a friend like you.’

  ‘I was expecting an argument.’

  They were both saved further embarrassment by the arrival of the food.

  Sarah jumped as the phone rang beside her. Despite all her resolutions, her hand went out automatically to cut off the jarring intrusion into her peace and quiet. As she put the receiver to her ear, she held her breath and waited.

  ‘Sarah, are you there? It’s me.’

  A wave of relief swept over her. ‘Hi, Liz. How’s you?’

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Of course. Why shouldn’t it be?’ Even to Sarah, her voice sounded strained.

  ‘Then why didn’t you speak when you picked up the phone?’

  Elizabeth was not one to be fobbed off. She would go on and on until she had ferreted out the problem. Sarah explained about the calls.

  ‘Have you tried 1471?’

  ‘All I get is, “The caller withheld the number”.’

  ‘What about reporting it to the police?’

  ‘It’s hardly the crime of the century,’ Sarah protested with a laugh.

  ‘I’m not trying to worry you, but could it be connected to when you were mugged?’

  ‘I did wonder about that. The calls began the day after it happened. If he had searched my bag, he might’ve discovered my address and, as he also has my keys, he could be ringing to see if I was in before planning an easy burglary. He wouldn’t know the lock had been changed. But that’s just me being silly. He wouldn’t be able to get hold of my number.’

  ‘Umm.’ Elizabeth sounded doubtful.

  ‘I did think about having the number changed but, apart from the inconvenience of having to let friends and family know, it smacks too much of giving in to the bastard.’

  ‘All the more reason to report it.’

  ‘The police will think I’m neurotic! They’ll probably try and persuade me to go and see my doctor.’

  There was a long pause. ‘All the same, it would do no harm to have a chat with that nice inspector chappie you were telling me about.’

  ‘I don’t think inspectors deal with nuisance phone calls,’ Sarah teased. ‘Anyway, were you calling about anything special?’

  ‘I was wondering if we could have lunch sometime next week?’

  ‘Love to. Thursday suit you? Meet at the wine bar?’

  ‘Let’s go mad and indulge ourselves. Gianni’s? One o’clock?’

  ‘Super. See you then.’

  During the day, things were so hectic that Sarah had little time to think about her problems. As she had difficulty in explaining to friends and family with no experience of Further Education, even with no students, the end of the so-called summer holiday was a busy time. Come the GCSE results in late August, there were many last-minute changes of plan for students who didn’t get the grades they’d been predicted for university and the College was still recruiting people onto courses days before term was due to start.

  It was not only Eunice Robinson’s Student Services team conducting the Admissions Interviews who were run ragged. Trying to discover if there would be sufficient numbers to make a course viable or enough to justify an extra group, plus all the staffing and rooming implications, provided headaches for all the faculty managers.

  It was well after nine o’clock when she got back home. Sarah could not be bothered to cook herself a proper meal and decided to make do with fruit and a bowl of cereal. She was half expecting a call that evening. Her nephew, Todd, who had been unwell for some time, was due to see a specialist and her mother had promised to get in touch if there was any news. The moment the jarring note sounded, she stabbed at the mute button on the television remote and snatched up the receiver.

  She reeled off her number and waited. The silence went on for several seconds. Another of those stupid calls! She was about to replace the phone when a low, hollow laugh, full of menace, sounded in her ear. Taken aback, it was several seconds before she banged down the receiver.

  Sarah was angry rather than upset. Angry with herself for letting the sick-minded creep, who was trying to taunt her, succeed. A week ago, she would have dismissed the whole thing without another thought. This pathetic reaction was simply delayed shock from the events of the mugging on top of overwork, she told herself firmly. In a few days, she’d be back to normal. Not knowing the reason that lay behind these childish games was more unsettling than she cared to admit.

  She slumped back in her chair and returned to the programme she had been staring at. It was impossible to find anything even remotely amusing in the pathetic sitcom, which she had hoped would lighten her spirits. She was about to switch off the television and have an early night when the phone rang again.

  She stared at it, deciding whether to pick it up. It could well be her mother. Slowly she lifted the receiver and waited.

  The silence went on. Getting her to lose her temper was probably exactly what he wanted so instead she laid the receiver down on the table as quietly as possible. She sat staring at it, her hands clenched, determined he should be the first to have to ring off. It would be a small victory; an attempt to show him that she was not bothered by his silly games.

  She began to think that she had won when she heard the whispering.

  ‘Saaaraaah.’ It was a hoarse, breathy, unreal noise that chilled her spine. He must have heard her stifled sob because, as she recoiled into the depths of the chair, she could hear the peal of maniacal laughter. Too late, she seized up the receiver ready to let loose a stream of invective but he’d already rung off.

  She could not get to sleep that night. Her brain would not relax. She kept thinking of all the things she should have said. When she eventually managed to close her eyes and begin to doze, that dreadful, sibilant wail filled her skull. She got up, paced from room to room, and made endless cups of coffee. In an effort to shut out the memory, she tried to read, but she could not concentrate. Eventually she switched on the television only to find a totally unsuitable late-night horror movie.

  ‘You again! You seem to be spending as much time in here as you do in your own office.’

  Barry Waterhouse looked up from where he had nonchalantly draped himself over the desk. He gave her his usual, charming smile, completely unabashed, although Lucy’s sudden preoccupation with sorting through the pile of papers in front of her wasn’t lost on Sarah.

  ‘I’m beginning to think you must have designs on my innocent secretary,’ Sarah went on, eyebrows raised in mock-horror. ‘And you a married man with three small children!’ She did not want to play the heavy-handed boss or sour the good relationship she had with her secretary by giving Lucy a lecture on avoiding the flattery of a middle-aged Lothario. She had to trust to Lucy’s good sense and hope that she would take the hint.

  ‘I was waiting for you actually. I wondered if you’ve got a minute to look through the applications for the Media Studies post.’ He tried to follow Sarah through into her room.

  ‘Not now I’m afraid,’ she replied glancing pointedly at her watch. She was not so busy that she could not make time for him but she was still too keyed up to have to cope with his constant attempts to impress. Besides, there was no reason why he should need to bother her with such details at this stage. As Director of the Social Studies Faculty, he was able to draw up the shortlist far better than she was. ‘Why, is there a problem?’

  ‘Thought you might be interested.’ He shrugged with just a tinge of criticism.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said mustering a smile. ‘When you’ve had a chance to narrow down the field, we can look at the selection together. Have a word with Lucy and she’ll put it in my diary.’

  She was about to shut her door when Lucy called her back.

  ‘Your messages are on your desk. Michael Wyatt from the Chamber of Commerce would like you to ring back before
the end of today and Eunice Robinson came up while you were out.’ Sarah groaned. ‘She asked if I’d let her know the moment you got in. She seemed a bit uptight about something,’ Lucy added apologetically.

  ‘Our dear Eunice is always on the rampage about something. I wonder who’s rattled her cage now. Time for a quick exit. Best of luck, Sarah.’ Barry, now all smiles, gave a wave and disappeared.

  Sarah sank into her chair. The pile in her in-tray stared at her accusingly though she knew she would not be able to concentrate on anything else until she had dealt with whatever was upsetting Eunice. The Head of Student Services was not the most popular lady in the college. Sarah lifted the receiver.

  Eunice arrived minutes later, eyes blazing, lips narrowed.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Sarah waved her to the chair but Eunice stood glaring down at her.

  ‘The printers are waiting for the proofs of the Community Education booklet.’

  ‘So, what’s the hold-up?’

  Because of staff changes and a string of minor delays, distribution of details of the adult evening courses was already a week behind schedule.

  ‘You still have all the paperwork,’ Eunice accused.

  ‘But I haven’t seen it!’

  ‘I brought it all up here personally last Tuesday just after five. Lucy had already gone so I put them on your desk in here in a white and green folder,’ she insisted with all the resigned patience of someone speaking to a difficult child.

  Though they needed her final approval, passing them to Sarah was little more than a matter of courtesy. Such was the urgency, everything should have been returned immediately.

  Sarah checked all the filing trays without success then buzzed through to Lucy who proved to be as mystified as she was. Eunice stood bristling with ill-concealed irritation as she watched Sarah hurry over to the collection of folders propped on the shelves.

  ‘That could be it,’ Eunice snapped, pointing to one covered with bright emerald lettering, as Sarah flicked through the assortment.

  Sarah pulled it out and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the printer’s logo stamped on the front. She carried it back to her desk and opened it. Her heart sank when she saw that it was empty.