“Where was the letter?”
“They didn’t say. It could have been in the car. Or – dear God – it could have gone to his wife.”
Linda sits quietly, holding the mug in both hands, and asks,
“Susan, is there something you haven’t told me about this Dave Ramsey? I thought it was a stupid one-night stand but that you had both agreed to let it drop for your own sakes as well as his wife’s? I also thought it wasn’t – well - important to either of you?”
Susan looks at her friend and obviously decides to say something in part explanation of the situation.
“Well, it was a bit more complicated. It was basically just a very brief affair, as far as I was concerned.”
Linda just a raises eyebrow, as if to say, ‘was that wise?’ Then she asks, “How long did it go on?”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Susan says, answering the unspoken criticism, “He is a minister, and I have this job. I’m in the public eye. The implications have not escaped me, Linda. It just seemed safe enough at the time. I thought he’d have no choice but to keep quiet. I just didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to think he’d fallen for me. So when he kept coming to see me, I played him along to keep him quiet. It got worse for a while but then I met Bill, and I really was very taken up with him from the moment I met him. I saw Ramsey off the night you and Ken had dinner here and he turned up. He has been pestering me on and off ever since. When I gave Bill a version of what was happening, he was all set to sort him out but I wouldn’t let him. I was scared Ramsey would tell Bill if they were ever alone together. And, I suppose I thought Dave pestering me would just peter out.”
“Had you any idea he would do this?”
“No, none. Not till the message. He’s never threatened suicide. It’s probably the proverbial cry for help. I suppose it is like they say - real suicides never leave a warning. They just kill themselves.”
Linda thinks for a moment, and then says,
“Is there more?”
Susan says nothing whilst she sips her tea. Linda has the distinct impression that her answer, when it comes, will not be not entirely truthful.
“No. I don’t think so. God knows what he has written, though. This could get to the press, you know.”
“It may also come to nothing,” Linda speculates, drawing her thoughts together. “Whatever, you know you have my support. And Ken’s,” she adds, wondering about the truth of that as she says it. “We’ll see you through this. And I’ve no doubt at all that Bill will be there for you. Does he know it was a fling?”
“Well, no, he thinks it was just a love-struck young man chasing a celebrity. And getting nowhere.”
“Oh dear, Linda smiles ruefully. “You mean that he doesn’t know you had an affair? Well, you either tell him the truth right now or you have to bank on him not finding out. I don’t think there is any other choice. What do you think?”
Susan is silent again. She sounds almost exasperated when she speaks.
“I don’t know yet. I haven’t had time to think it through. I’ll sort it out in my head before morning. At the moment, I’m more worried about the job than anything else. Can’t you just see the strap lines in the tabloids? ‘TV Presenter in Sex Romp with Church Minister’. Or, ‘Church Minister Commits Suicide over Affair with Susan Blakely’. You know what that would mean, Linda. Exit Susan Blakely’s career, stage left.”
“I see the ramifications, Susan. I did as soon as you said. But I don’t think it’s time to panic yet. What happens if he survives? What happens publicly, I mean, for you?”
“Probably not a lot. Psychiatrists and social workers will deal with him. I don’t think there will be any further police action. I certainly wouldn’t be pursuing anything like complaints over harassment or anything. As long as the press don’t get hold of the story in terms of any connection to me, the TV bosses won’t find out.”
“And if he dies?”
“A different ball game. There will be a post-mortem. The cause of death will have to be confirmed. The press will publish something. A minister of the church who commits suicide is news by any standard. It would depend on whether the suicide note gets to the press and, of course, what, if anything, it says. The tape won’t – the police assured me of that.”
“So, we can only wait. Or, do you think there’s anything we should do? Should you speak to your boss?”
“I might tell him what I told the police. That keeps the whole thing looking consistent. Anyway, the police could ask questions there, I suppose.” Susan is thinking aloud now. “Yes, I’d better say something, but I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m due to see Jonathon anyway. I’ll not make a big point of it”
“That sounds OK,” Linda reflects. “Needless to say Ken and I will follow that line if asked.”
“Thank you,” is all Susan manages, but Linda knows she means it.
“That leaves Bill,” Linda says, returning to the theme. “You need to think about this sooner rather than later. He might prefer to know now even if, bluntly, you haven’t been honest with him to date. Why weren’t you, by the way? I thought people in new relationships usually shared their pasts, so to speak. Revealing all at the beginning acts as insurance as much as anything nobler. Anyway, it might be better to let him know than for him to find out. What if this nut Dave has written to him, for example?”
“I’ll think about it. I didn’t tell him because I’m not too proud of what was only meant to be a one-night stand that I got trapped by. Real relationships are different for me and he knows about the only other serious relationship I had before him. I saw no point in telling him about Ramsey. He was of no importance.”
“I can see that,” says Linda, doubtfully. “Well, whatever you decide, let me know quickly so that I’ll know how to play it if the three or four of us are together. You may need your friends around you for a few days.”
Susan leans over to touch her friend’s arm, saying that she is relieved at the common-sense approach Linda is taking and that she is glad she decided to call her. Otherwise, she would have worried at the problem and her thoughts would have stayed jumbled without Linda’s objectivity. Linda’s presence has kept her purely practical – this is not the time for inner soul searching.
Linda suspects that there is still more to this but she chooses not to pry. Nor should she, she decides. She will not be judgmental and she needs to be practical, indeed pragmatic, if she is to be of any real help to Susan.
Linda does not stay much longer. It is nearly two and they can hear the first sounds of the early morning city coming to life. It will be dawn soon, Linda thinks, as Susan accompanies her down to the now waiting taxi.
“Thank you, Linda,” she says, giving her a warm and genuine hug of friendship. You can’t know how much you have helped tonight.”
“One day, who knows, you may have to help me, Susan,” Linda says, almost enigmatically, and staying in the hug.
Susan pulls apart and looks at her, a questioning smile on her face. Linda says nothing, smiles back and then, thinking, adds,
“As and when, Susan. Not now and maybe not for a long time. You are the person I would talk to. But that’s not important right now. Try to get some sleep and I’ll be in touch in the day. Let me know as soon as you hear anything yourself. I’ll be at the Department by ten. Goodnight now.”
Once home, Linda hopes for a few hours sleep, slipping quietly in beside Ken who stirs, mutters, “Everything all right?” and goes straight over again as she whispers, “Yes. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 4
She wakes at nine to find Ken and the children up and away and to hear the sounds of Tina emptying the dishwasher in the kitchen. She has little time to reflect on the events of the night. She has to deliver a lecture at eleven and wants an hour beforehand at her desk to revise notes and to check her computer presentation before going to the lecture theatre. She is out of the house within thirty minutes, eyes stinging from lack of sleep, but otherwise alert to the day ah
ead.
As a professor, she has the luxury of secretarial support and, in reality, the young woman is something of a personal assistant to Linda. As soon as she enters her Department, Linda asks her to let her know if her friend Susan Blakely phones and to put her through; but otherwise she is not to be disturbed until after the lecture.
The lecture is reasonably successful – mainly a computerised slide presentation to post-graduate students, all heading to Masters or Doctorates, about the archaeological site in the Hebrides that will be the focus of their visit there for four weeks in the summer recess. What is known is that the site is Iron Age and existed as a village for several hundred years. Taking samples over the summer for carbon dating should establish over how many hundreds of years the site of the village was inhabited. Linda has already established that pre-existing buildings lie beneath the exposed houses, found two years ago. This year’s work should be the last on this site, for the time being at least, and as such, this is their last opportunity to date the village. Resources are finite. It is hoped to complete the painstaking work of inch-by-inch sifting to reveal how many lower lying houses there are, by the end of August. After that, the site will be in-filled, possibly for good.
The class – only ten strong – is enthusiastic. By twelve o’clock, the serious academic content has been covered, and Linda reminds them that there will be a briefing session at two with herself and Jane Gray, the lead lecturer on the dig itself, about practical arrangements for the trip.
Shortly after twelve, she checks with her secretary - Susan has not rung. During the rest of the morning, Linda scans her correspondence, works on her notes for a seminar due at four o’clock with the degree course students and then has a salad lunch in the staff canteen where she talks college politics with several male colleagues from the School of Business Studies. She then seeks out Jane Gray for a pre-meeting on the excavation trip.
She finds the young lecturer, as previously arranged, in Jane’s study, where she has overrun on a tutorial. A young male student is gathering up his files and agreeing the date of their next meeting in the following month. Linda smiles, waits patiently and nods at the obviously infatuated young student as he leaves. Jane grins at Linda as if to say that the young man’s attentions are just an amusing embarrassment.
“Morning,” she finally says to Linda in a warm and expansive manner.
Linda never tires of seeing Jane. The young American is an exuberant personality, so much less restrained than any of the other staff in the Department, and comfortable with the authority between her and Linda. She might have respect for Linda’s senior position and greater academic standing, but Jane is as much at ease in Linda’s company as Linda suspects that she will be with her friends and family. She is also attractive, with her cropped fair hair already greying at the temples. As on every working day, she is casually smart, never in skirts, and always in well-cut trousers and what are clearly expensive shirt blouses. The effect this morning is, as usual, softened with a drop cardigan. Slightly shorter than Linda, she is trim and, Linda has noticed, full busted. Linda suspects that she would not be a great sportswoman.
Jane responds now with an equally warm smile of welcome. A moment passes as they simply stand, allowing the silence to take them into the close professional relationship they share. At thirty-eight, Jane Gray has been with the University for two years. An American from Colorado, she came to the University with a New York Doctorate, originally on a one-year’s tenure. She showed such an aptitude for the field of archaeology and such a warm and effusive personality that she both earned and charmed her way to a permanent post on the academic staff. She has an enthusiasm for the ancient world that now takes her throughout Western Europe at every opportunity. The departmental notice board is laden with postcards from her various visits to Pompeii, Rome, Crete and the south of France. Single, she talks little of her background, except to keep the secretary up to date with news of her folks and brother back home and of her yearly trips back to Colorado to the little village that is home – a village which in reality is a sizeable town by this country’s standards.
“Well, Professor,” she says in half formal, half familiar fashion. “How are you?” Linda watches as Jane looks at her more closely and then says, “Actually, are you tired?”
“Just a bit - a broken night, that’s all,” Linda replies. “But I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m well. I’m well,” Jane comes back in her lilting American accent. “The term is just running away. I barely get time for my own research. But I am having a good time – this year’s classes are so stimulating.”
“And you are so refreshing,” thinks Linda, “After so much complaining about workloads and pressure from some of the others.”
This is the usual sort of exchange between these two women, who see each other only infrequently for any length of time, the academic terms being actually highly pressurised with teaching, staff meetings and research work, not to mention the hard graft of the student examination cycle.
These few words of greeting lead quickly to the task in hand – a half hour’s discussion on the excavation to take place in the summer. Jane will lead the dig for the first two weeks with Linda joining them for the last two and taking the lead from there. Funding for the project is secured but very restricted and everyone will be staying in a local youth hostel.
This causes a groan from Linda and a sympathetic laugh of agreement from Jane who will be tolerating these conditions, she points out, for twice as long. The good news, Jane advises her, is that the budget will run to meals in pubs a couple of times a week and a last weekend stay in a hotel if each party member makes a small contribution. They agree this would be cheap at the price. A mini-bus will transport them to the island and between the hostel and the site – a daily distance on the island of a thirty-mile round trip.
On their last weekend’s work in August there is, coincidentally, to be a folk festival on the island and there is already, Jane informs Linda, a growing level of enthusiasm amongst the student group about the social as well as the work aspects of the trip.
Linda is quietly impressed with the efficiency of Jane’s preparations. She listens with a supportive smile as Jane fills her in on the rest. Jane will supervise the dig, measuring and photographing the site before going on to log and collect artefacts as they emerge. She will oversee the collection of samples from the earth, the midden and the fireplaces. The cooking troughs should also provide the material for analysis, that the carbon dating process requires. When Linda arrives at the mid point of the dig, she will work more on interpretation with Jane than on the dig itself. Linda will meet with local historians from the museum, with the island’s local authority and with the Tourist Organisation. She will prepare Open Day presentations to encourage local interest. There should also be local press coverage, and, depending on the significance of what is found, national interest.
Jane always has the ability to engage Linda with her enthusiasm and Linda, for whom there is always a certain discomfort about being away from the family for periods in the summer, is soon anticipating the dig with relish. She will enjoy Jane’s company and the work is important. In any case, Ken wants to have time with the kids and to do some camping with them. Ken never complains.
She is feeling comfortable and enthusiastic about the trip as she and Jane progress along the corridor to the meeting with the postgraduate group. They spend an informal hour over coffee mugs, planning the trip and the work ahead. Mercifully, Linda will avoid the tedious mini-bus trip to the island and will fly out to join the team and later will fly back. Jane will be the stalwart, albeit they both know that the men in the party will automatically assume responsibility for driving and all the heavy work. They will also look after the women, Jane especially.
The meeting over, Jane hovers behind with Linda for a few minutes saying how much she is looking forward to August. She seems just a little hesitant as she stands there and Linda waits, knowing that Jane is going
to say something else.
It is an invitation. Jane has a supper party later in the week for some women friends – all professional women working in the city. Would Linda be interested in coming along? Linda thinks for a moment before replying. She wants to accept the invitation – she knows it right away. She is interested to know who Jane’s friends are; what the outlooks are of younger professional women these days. And she will not be breaching any University protocols. Something says she should not accept. She is not sure that she would accept if another of her staff invited her without Ken. But then, this is an evening for women.
“I would be delighted,” she says “Provided there are no commitments waiting for me at home with the children.”
Jane leaves with one of her warm smiles – smiles that exude friendliness.
Linda smiles in farewell; aware too, that she enjoys this woman’s company and that this is one colleague who somehow brings life to the department.
It is six o’clock when she gets back to the house and there is still no call from Susan. An hour of talk and attention to the children passes before she is free to leave them to their homework and to head upstairs for a shower. Ken will be late - a busy surgery will delay him. Glass of red wine in hand, she sits on the edge of the bed and rings Susan. She gets the answer phone but knows she would.
“Susan? It’s me.”
The phone is lifted right away. She is relieved to hear her friend’s voice.
“Hi.”
“Are you OK? Have you heard anything?”
“Yes I’m fine. And yes, I have heard. Ramsey is still alive. I heard half an hour ago. I was on the way to ring you.”
“Well, thank God for that,” Linda exclaims in relief.
“It’s not as simple as that. Apparently he did take paracetemol. It was a pretty heavy amount. So there may well be liver damage. All they will say to me is that he is stable at the moment.”
Exposure Page 3
