All in the Mind

by Judith Cranswick

  ‘Stop it you stupid woman.’

  Sometimes she managed to get through two or three days at a time without thinking about him, so why start now?

  She was in her office early the next morning and it was no surprise when Sir Richard arrived soon after eight thirty. There was a lot to sort out but it was evident that he felt as awkward as she did discussing what they should do about Eunice’s post. It seemed disrespectful to her memory to be talking about finding her replacement only a few hours after her death, but she had no deputy and there was no one in the college with the experience or expertise to step into her job, even temporarily.

  They were still in the midst of discussions when there was a knock at her door. Lucy would never interrupt when she was in conference with Sir Richard so Sarah knew it had to be important.

  ‘Detective Inspector Parson is here with his team. He would like to speak to you again and to Sir Richard as well.’

  Sarah had warned Lucy that the police would be returning to interview any staff and students who might have seen anything suspicious at the time her car was taken and also, for reasons that she could not fathom, to speak to all the senior staff. Lucy had already arranged for suitable interview rooms to be set aside and now it seemed she needed to hand over her own office while DI Parson spoke with Sir Richard.

  It was as good a time as any to go over to Student Services and try to sort out with the careers advisers and student counsellors what needed to be done. She and George had already arranged which of her day’s commitments he would take over, but that had only increased the feeling that real life had somehow slipped into limbo. Any minute now, she would wake up and reality would take over again.

  That feeling stayed with her for the rest of the day. She may have appeared calm and efficient as she swept through the place, making decisions and maintaining the Steel Queen image, but inside she felt totally empty. She was living on instinct and trusting that her judgements were the right ones because there was little time to work out all the ramifications. Action was needed if the whole place was not to fall apart. George had ensured first thing that all staff were told that no comment was to be made to reporters and Lucy was a rock when it came to fielding the constant stream of phone calls.

  Sarah remembered little of the two-hour interview she had with Parson and Harper except this time it was the sergeant who did most of the talking. Anyone would think she was the chief suspect from the way he snapped out a constant stream of questions making her go over and over all the things she’d said the day before, even to the exact details of the regular route she drove home from the college although it lay in the opposite direction from Broad Street. More than once she had to swallow the scathing retorts she wanted to snap at him in response to the implications in the relentless questions he kept firing at her.

  There were no evening classes on Fridays and by five o’clock, the college was deserted. She had every intention of getting away early herself. A long soak in the bath and an early night.

  Her heart leapt to her mouth when she saw the flashing light on the answerphone. She was tempted to press the delete button without even listening to it. Pull yourself together woman!

  ‘Hi. Sorry I’ve not rung before.’ Matt’s voice. ‘I was going to ring last night but I didn’t get back from Devizes until late last night. Been on this two-day symposium at headquarters. Shall we meet at the theatre? Say twenty past?’

  She had forgotten all about the concert. She should have cancelled it earlier, but other things had taken over. Too late now. She would never be able to get hold of him. He would think she was still angry with him. An evening out was the last thing she fancied and it didn’t seem right somehow. On the other hand, sitting at home with only her thoughts for company would help no one. It would be good to think about something else for a while.

  As she stood under the shower, letting the stream of water massage her neck and shoulders, she made a conscious effort to relax. Best to push aside all thoughts of Eunice, the college, DI Parson and his sidekick for the rest of the day. With luck, even the whole weekend!

  It was not yet ten past seven when Sarah drove into the multi-storey car park next to the theatre. It took all her concentration taking the unfamiliar car up the steep ramps and tight turns, especially as the courtesy car the insurance company had provided had an appalling turning circle. She sat at the wheel trying to decide whether it was better to go in and stand around like a spare part until Matt arrived, or to wait in the car for a while. For some reason she suddenly felt apprehensive about their meeting. All the fault of DS Harper, she joked to herself. Enough to put anyone off the police forever.

  As she pushed through the door to the stairs, she realised that her reluctance to get out of the car was nothing to do with Matt at all.

  She had always hated going into that dark, enclosed stairwell and her narrow escape on the fire exit the previous evening did not help. It was not a fear of being attacked, although such places were notorious late at night, it was the appalling smell, reminiscent of disgusting public toilets, that she disliked so much. Rain, presumably dripping from the coats and umbrellas of countless returning motorists, accumulated in dank, evil smelling puddles. Holding her breath she raced pell-mell down the concrete steps in her high heels in a way that was not only childish, it was downright reckless.

  The foyer was crammed with people when she arrived. She stood on tiptoe, peering over the heads of the milling masses but it was impossible to pick out anyone from the doorway. Sidling round the various groups so engrossed in their noisy chatter that they were totally oblivious of anyone trying to get past, she eventually found a vacant space by the wall. An announcement that the performance was about to start came over the tannoy. The crowd began to thin as people went to take their places in the auditorium.

  The large clock above the box office showed twenty-seven minutes past seven. Only a handful of people remained and even they were making their way to the stairs. She began to wonder if Matt had decided not to come. Neither of them had mentioned the theatre visit when they had last spoken. Was this his way of getting back at her for slamming the phone down on him? Hardly. Perhaps he thought she was not coming and had abandoned the whole idea.

  Feeling a trifle foolish, she wandered back to the entrance nearest to the car park. There were two sets of doors into the foyer and she was not sure which way he would be coming so she didn’t want to stray outside. From the open doorway, she could hear the distant town clock sounding the half hour. She was about to risk a step or two outside to take a look along the road when she heard his voice.

  ‘Sarah!’

  She turned and saw him hurrying across from the Theatre Square entrance.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said breathlessly. ‘What a day! I got held up. I didn’t think I was going to make it.’ He took her arm and propelled her down the stairs to the stalls at top speed.

  The lights were beginning to go down as they squeezed their way through to the middle of the row past the line of disgruntled people, who had been comfortably settled. She received a venomous glare from the elderly gentleman who had to remove his jacket and his wife’s coat plus a long-stemmed umbrella from her seat before she could sit down.

  As the curtain went up, Matt took her hand and gave it a squeeze. A wave of relief swept through her. He was the same as ever.

  During the interval, they went up for a drink. Because they had to follow the long lines of people slowing shuffling out of the lower auditorium, by the time they reached the bar all the seats at the tables had been taken. Matt joined the end of the queue while she found a couple of perches on one of the side benches.

  ‘That took forever,’ he said handing her a glass. ‘Sorry about being late. You must have thought I wasn’t coming.’

  ‘What was the problem? Were you caught up at work?’

  ‘Yes and no. It has been one of those days, but I would have made it if my dear son had got his finger out. I promised to drop Paul at one of
his friends’ for a birthday party, and when I got home he was still mooning around trying to make up his mind what to wear!’ Matt raised his eyes to the ceiling in mock exasperation.

  ‘I thought only girls had that problem.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it. Walking the narrow line between choosing something to impress the female talent without provoking comment from the rest of the lads in the gang at the tender age of fourteen is a major challenge.’

  ‘Then at least age brings some compensations,’ she said with a rueful grin that belied the considerable amount of time spent earlier searching through her wardrobe. Though her collection of clothes was quite extensive, it consisted mainly of smart, but dull, business suits plus matching discreet blouses, or the rather disreputable casual outfits, most well past their prime, that she like to slop around in at weekends. Matt had already seen her in the few bright little numbers that she possessed which fell between the two extremes.

  There was no time for any real conversation before the two-minute warning bell sounded.

  ‘We’d better drink up. Best not to repeat our performance at the start. It didn’t help having seats in the very centre.’

  ‘Let’s hope the old boy sitting next to me is in a better mood when we get back. He decided to get his own back by sticking his elbow way over on to my side, and the handle of his umbrella was sticking into my thigh the whole time,’ she said with a mock growl.

  Her only consolation for having to gulp back her wine was that she was in her seat before her irritable friend. She was able to move his umbrella into his space and firmly establish her claim to the armrest for the second half.

  After the performance, Matt suggested another drink. “The Pear Tree” seemed to attract crowds of raucous youngsters, many of whom could well turn out to be her students, but she was still reticent about inviting him back to the flat as an alternative.

  Matt took her arm and they made their way to the far side of the square. Perhaps it was because she was so relieved that things seemed back to normal again that she did it. Half way across she reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘That’s for the pressie,’ she said.

  ‘Pardon?’ His forehead creased in a puzzled frown.

  ‘The roses.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  He seemed embarrassed. It was all too evident that she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Why did she always end up making such a fool of herself?

  ‘Someone sent me a bunch of flowers the other day. They didn’t sign the card and, for some reason, I thought they must be from you because I couldn’t think of anyone else. Perhaps it’s my mysterious stalker. And there was me thinking his motives were the exact opposite!’ She could not stop the silly prattle. Her attempt at light-hearted jollity sounded false even to her own ears.

  They reached the pub and she was able to cover her embarrassment as they looked around for somewhere to sit in the packed, smoky interior. She did her best to regain her composure whilst Matt battled through to the bar to get the drinks.

  She managed to find a couple of seats in a corner but for the first ten minutes the place was so noisy that trying to maintain a conversation was far from easy. They shouted the predictable remarks about the concert across the table saying how much they had enjoyed it. In fact, the programme had included only a single piece by one her favourite composers and the orchestra, although passable, had not been outstanding. It was much easier when the other occupants of the table decided to move on elsewhere, and Matt could sit on the bench seat next to her.

  ‘So tell me about this dreadful day of yours then,’ she said brightly. Anything to cover up her gaff over the flowers.

  ‘Don’t ask.’ He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Apart from the pile of stuff that’s been landing up on my desk while I’ve been away, I’ve been up to my eyes with this accident on the motorway first thing. I expect you heard about it?’

  Sarah shook her head.

  ‘Luckily there were no fatalities, but this chemical tanker jack-knifed and overturned, spilling its load all over the place, and then there was an enormous pileup as vehicles braked. We had to close the motorway for most of the day and reroute all the traffic through the town. As if that was not bad enough, I lost half a dozen men to a CID operation. It’s near impossible trying to run a control room at the best of times with the number of men we’ve got without some DI playing at wonder boy and demanding extra manpower for a simple hit-and-run when we’ve got a major incident on our hands.’

  ‘This wouldn’t be DI Parson would it?’

  Matt stared at her.

  ‘The woman who died was one of my colleagues.’

  ‘God, I’m so sorry.’ Poor Matt looked mortified.

  ‘It was probably your lot I’ve had to put up with all day at the college then. You can have them back with pleasure,’ she said trying to make light of it all. The last thing she wanted was to start discussing anything to do with it.

  ‘So you were interviewed, were you?’

  ‘It looks like it was my car that ran her down. It was stolen from the car park.’

  Matt’s eyes widened. He looked at her as though she had suddenly become a stranger. She had rendered him speechless.

  ‘You ready for another?’ She picked up his glass and moved quickly to the bar to give him time to recover.

  Neither of them referred to it again, but a definite tension hung in the air, and keeping the conversation going proved difficult. He seemed as relieved as she was when the bell went for last orders.

  Matt insisted on walking her to her car. Although they occasionally brushed against each other, he did not take her arm and she’d no intention of initiating any form of contact. A fine drizzle began to fall and she pulled her coat around her.

  When they reached the car, she thanked him for the pleasant evening, wished him goodnight and quickly got in. He stood smiling and waving as she drove off, acutely conscious that he’d made no suggestions about meeting up again.

  Back in her kitchen, confused and hurt by Matt’s reaction, she stood staring at the calendar on the wall in front of her as she waited for the kettle to boil. The half-remembered words of a poem she’d learnt at school came back to her. “No sun, no moon….No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, November.” They matched her mood. That was when it struck her. She suddenly realised who had sent the flowers. They had arrived on November 10th – the day before her wedding anniversary. For her bouquet, she had chosen yellow roses. She had almost forgotten. Trust him to remember!

  ‘Damn you Nathan!’

  Chapter 28

  At least the concert provided a topic of conversation when she telephoned home. Her mother knew absolutely nothing about classical music but it gave Sarah a chance to be able to move on to something other than Eunice’s death and the theft of her car. She’d toyed with not giving her parents any of the bad news but, from the way the Press had been pestering them all through Friday, Sarah decided they were bound to hear eventually and would then be hurt by her failure to tell them, as well as worried.

  Although Sarah tried to play down the drama as much as possible, she was surprised at her mother’s reaction. Apart from a few conciliatory remarks about how dreadful it must be for her, she did not seem to take in much of what Sarah said. She was obviously preoccupied with something else. Knowing that she would get an evasive answer to a direct question as to what was wrong, Sarah struggled to find the cause of her mother’s concern. Eventually, she asked after Jenny and the family.

  ‘They’re all fine. The results of Todd’s latest tests should be through at the end of the week.’

  ‘Give them all my love when you see them,’ Sarah said, trying to jolly along her mother.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ came the automatic reply. ‘I expect Jenny will call round in a day or two.’

  Her mother’s throwaway remark was not lost on Sarah. Jenny was always in and out of her parent’s house and never left without saying, ‘See you tom
orrow’ or the day after. It was a standing joke that Justin, when he was about five, coming out of church one Sunday had turned to Jenny and asked, ‘Are we going back to our house or are we going home?’ For both sisters, the word home meant the house they had grown up in. Jenny’s failure to put in an appearance for several days was evidently making her mother more anxious than she cared to admit.

  ‘Have you got anything planned for next weekend?’ Sarah asked on a sudden impulse.

  ‘No, love.’

  ‘Would it be all right if I came down?’

  ‘Of course! You know we always love to see you.’ Sarah felt a rush of warmth at the excited pleasure in her mother’s voice.

  Although she wanted to be there to offer what little support she could, if Sarah was honest, her motives were probably not entirely selfless. It was not simply a wish to distance herself from the ordeal of the last few days. After the embarrassing spectacle she’d made yesterday and his reaction to discovering that she was associated with the hit-and-run, she couldn’t see Matt asking her out again. The prospect of hanging around the flat all weekend wondering if he was going to call was best avoided.

  By four o’clock on Monday afternoon, the college was beginning to get back to some semblance of normality. The police had gone and she was busy trying to catch up with the paperwork. There was a knock at the door and a grim-faced George hurried in and laid a newspaper on the desk in front of her.

  ‘I thought you ought to see this.’