“We don’t keep people’s addresses in their files.” I lied. “Get this into your head – you are not going to find out Linda’s address. All you’re going to do is get yourself into trouble with the police, and that won’t help you at all.”
I reached up and, taking hold of his wrists, pulled his hands away from me. Ryan stood motionless, fury still in his eyes, and for a moment I was sure that he was going to attack me.
Before I could find out, the door to the consulting room flew open, and Katie stood in the doorway.
“What the hell is going on in here?” she demanded, staring coolly at Ryan. His eyes flickered between her and me, uncertainty and frustration written all over his face. Eventually he spoke, looking at Katie.
“All right,” he muttered, “all right, I’m going.” His eyes turned back to me, and now there was a look of sheer hatred in them. “But you’d better watch your back from now on. Because sooner or later I’ll be there, ready to get even with you. I’m not going to rest until I’ve destroyed your life, just like you’ve destroyed mine.”
He span around and, pushing past Katie, hurried out of the door. Katie moved across the room, looking concerned.
“Are you alright Jack?” she asked.
I smiled at her, “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for trying to rush to my rescue though.”
She still looked worried, “You ought to phone the police, anyway – tell them about the threats he made.”
I shook my head, “No, there’s no need. His wife tells me he often explodes, but regrets it later. He’s very hurt and upset at the moment, but he’ll calm down soon enough.”
“If you’re sure,” Katie said, “but he sounded as if he meant what he was saying to me.”
“He probably did at the time, but it’ll wear off.” I tried to make a joke of it, “Of course if I turn up dead in a gutter, you’ll know I was wrong.”
Instead of laughing, she moved towards me. “Don’t say that.” She admonished, and took hold of my hand. As her cool, soft hand closed on mine, I suddenly felt as if I’d been wired up to the electricity supply. I was unexpectedly swamped with an enormous wave of warmth and contentment.
Looking into Kate’s beautiful green eyes, for a moment I thought I could see something there, as if she had felt the same thing. If there was something, it was gone in an instant, and I told myself it had only been in my imagination.
She let go of my hand, and just for a moment it felt as if I’d had a limb removed. “As long as you’re OK then,” she said in a voice which seemed slightly unsteady, and left the room.
I sat down, staring at the door. If anything, I felt far more unsettled by the last couple of minutes, than by the whole encounter with Ryan Clarke.
Chapter Five
The next morning, I woke up early and decided that I might as well go straight in to work. Deep down my plan was to get there well before the others, and be shut safely away in a room before Katie arrived. I needed to sort things out in my own mind before I was ready to see her. At the same time, I do especially enjoy the walk to work when the pavements and streets are relatively silent.
This day, I decided to go the slightly longer route. At one time, I almost always walked this way, up Tower Street and past the fascinating windows of the Museum of Automata, with their array of mechanical music boxes and toys. Since the museum had shut down though, the walk had lost a lot of its appeal. It still had a few highlights, including the Castle Museum, built out of the old prison which had once been home to Dick Turpin. It also passed Clifford’s Tower that, as the only bit of the original castle left, had the dubious honour of being home to some of the bloodiest bits of York’s history, including a Jewish massacre and several executions. Today it helped to keep my mind occupied looking at the familiar landmarks and recalling their history.
I turned down Friargate, and back onto the waterfront. As expected, I was the first to arrive at work, so I unlocked and switched off the alarm. Today was my turn to deal with any emergencies coming in, which would hopefully mean a quiet day. I decided to use the time to go through the files, and plan my visits for the weeks leading up to Christmas.
About an hour or so later, I heard the main door open and after a few moments, Barbara popped her head round the door to say good morning. She also told me that Katie was out for the morning on visits. I knew that I was probably being silly, but I felt a sense of relief at the news. I had made the decision when Liz left that I was better off living alone for the rest of my life, but the touch of Katie’s hand had stirred up feelings I thought were long since dead and buried. I told myself that the strong response I’d had to her touch was simply due to the fact that it was an awfully long time since I’d had any sort of physical contact with an attractive young woman. I was reading far too much into something that was nothing more than a gesture of concern and friendship. Even so, it was going to take me a little while to get back to seeing her as just a work colleague.
The morning passed uneventfully. I heard George arrive, but he didn’t come in to say hello – it sounded as if he had someone with him and they went down the corridor and into George’s office. Just before 12 o’clock I wandered down to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.
When I came out of the kitchen, George was standing in reception, alongside a smaller man who was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit.
George was smiling broadly. “Jack,” he said enthusiastically. “I’d like you to meet Ian Jacobs.”
The other man held out his hand. “Really good to meet you, Jack. George has been telling me all about you and the rest of the team here. I’m a great admirer of the work you do.”
As we shook hands, George continued, clearly bubbling over with enthusiasm.
“Mr. Jacobs has agreed to publicly support the centre and make a very generous donation from his own company.” He paused, “But even better than that, he’s agreed to become a member of the Board of Trustees.”
I’d always tried to keep out of the business side of the centre, but even I knew why this news had got George behaving as if Christmas had come early. With a prominent businessman on all our letters and paperwork as a trustee (effectively a director) of the Centre it would give George a way in to most of the main businesses of the Centre. A thought suddenly occurred to me.
“You’ll have to excuse my ignorance, Mr. Jacobs,” I began. “I know that you’re the current Chair of the Executive Club, but what does your company actually do?”
I was slightly worried that he would see this admission of ignorance as a great insult, but he clearly didn’t have that huge an ego as he just smiled warmly and began to explain.
“Please call me Ian – Mr. Jacobs always makes me feel very old. I’m originally an accountant by profession. About five years ago I decided I’d rather have a greater involvement in actually running businesses, so I set up my own management consultancy firm. Basically, firms employ me to come in and have a look at their business, and give them advice as to how they could run it better and more profitably.”
“Sounds interesting.” I commented.
“Actually, it really is,” he replied enthusiastically. “I get to see such a variety of businesses and people. And when your advice has helped to save a business that’s struggling, or make a firm more profitable so they’re able to expand and create more jobs, it feels as if you’re doing something worthwhile.” His smile widened before he continued, “and fortunately, I can make a fairly decent living out of it at the same time.”
George gave an amused snort and interrupted, “Ian’s being rather too modest here.” He looked at Ian, “I checked out your company’s accounts for last year before we met. Didn’t you make a profit of over three million pounds?
Ian Jacobs looked slightly embarrassed at this disclosure “Yes, that’s true. My terms are always a fixed fee, plus a percentage of any increase in profitability over the following five years. I’ve been very lucky in that some of my advice has worked out well. That’s
one of the reasons I’m so keen to do whatever I can to help you lot out. The work I do is enjoyable but it’s nothing compared to the work you are doing here. If I can use my good fortune to help you get the resources you need to go on helping people when they’re at their most desperate, then that will make me even happier. I’ve got everything I could want – a loving family, a nice home to live in, and more money than I could possibly ever need. I think it’s time I started giving something back to those who aren’t so fortunate.”
Ian stopped, and then continues with a large grin. “Anyway, here’s me rambling on and on about myself, when I’ve come here this morning to learn more about you and the work you do.” He turned to focus totally on me, “Jack, George has told me all about the three of you who work here and how talented you all are. Why don’t you tell me about what it’s like working here – the best bits and the biggest frustrations? Help me to get a better idea of what the Crisis Centre is really all about, and the sort of difficulties you’re faced with.”
As I began to answer his question, it was clear to me why Ian Jacobs was such a successful businessman. Although he was only quite small – about five feet eight inches I would guess – there was an amazing presence about him. It was as if he radiated energy and charisma. Obviously I was predisposed to like him, as it looked as if he was going to be able to help secure the long-term future of the Centre, but I found it hard to imagine that there were many people he encountered who wouldn’t. When you were talking with him, Ian had a sort of intensity that was almost hypnotic. He had a way of focussing his steely blue eyes upon you which made you feel that his attention was with you one hundred percent, and that he really wanted to hear and understand what you had to say.
It was very easy to picture him going into a business, and getting all the staff to talk freely to him. I had a hunch that if you gave him a morning in a place, by the end of it he would have uncovered virtually all the secrets and problems, just by the force of his personality. He would have made an outstanding counsellor, although he obviously wouldn’t have been as wealthy as he was in his current profession.
Just as I was concluding my account of life at the centre; the joys of being able to help very wounded and scared people begin a new life, and the constant struggle to get enough money to keep the Centre open, the main door opened. It was Katie.
As I watched her come into the room, I suddenly experienced the strangest feeling. The best way I can describe it is as a sort of sadness – a mix of nostalgia and almost longing for something that could never be. Something of what I was feeling must have shown on my face because Ian Jacobs looked at me with quizzical expression, and then turned with a smile to the door.
“You must be Katie.” He said, extending his hand, “and you’re even more beautiful than George described.”
Katie seemed a bit nonplussed by this greeting, but recovered quickly to take his hand. George made the introductions, and they began to chat about Katie’s experiences in the few months she had worked at the Centre.
“Tell me,” said Ian to her, “When your day is often an endless catalogue of cruelty and pain, do you find it hard to switch off when you eventually get home?”
Katie began to answer, and I was again struck by how skilled Ian was at extracting information from people. Over the next few minutes I learned that Katie shared a flat with an old friend from university, who worked in marketing at one of the cities big chocolate companies. They went out together most evenings, which was her favourite way of unwinding. I was annoyed with myself for feeling relieved when she made no mention of a boyfriend.
Ian listened attentively, and then said, “I’ve just had a brilliant idea. It’s the Executive Club’s Christmas Dinner in a couple of week’s time. It’s the one event of the year that almost all our members turn up at. Because I’m the chair, they have to put up with a speech from me while they’re drinking their coffee and munching their mints.”
He stopped speaking for a moment, clearly considering his idea, then resumed, “How about if I invite the three of you as my guests, and you do a little presentation? George could do an introduction to the Centre and what it’s all about, and then the two of you could give it all a human face; talk about the people you help, and the difficulties you face – that sort of thing. That way, you get an introduction to all the main people of the city at one go. What do you think?”
George looked absolutely thrilled at the prospect, but I managed to answer before he could speak.
“It sounds a wonderful opportunity, but I’m not sure you really need all three of us.” I said quickly. “George is the one who’s good at putting over what we do here – he could probably do a much better job on his own.”
Katie was nodding her agreement, but Ian shook his head. “I’m not casting any doubt upon George’s persuasive abilities – after all, he’s convinced me to get involved. But I do think it would be even more effective if they could see the people who do the front line work as well and hear how much the work matters to both of you.”
Both Katie and I tried to protest, but George held up his hand. “I’m sure Ian’s right,” he said decisively. “I can talk about what we do here, but it will have even more impact if the two of you can add your own stories and talk about some of the people we’ve helped, and how it’s changed their lives.”
“Besides which,” Ian added, “although I can tell that neither of you are exactly thrilled at the idea of public speaking, you will get an exceptional Christmas meal out of it. As well as that, it could be a real breakthrough in terms of getting local financial support for the Centre.”
I tried a different tack, “Well, what about Barbara then? She ought to get the chance to be involved as well, especially as she’s been here far longer than either of us have been.”
“I’ll have a word with her,” George replied, “but I’m sure she’ll say that she’s more than happy for the two of you to speak on her behalf. Come on you two,” he suddenly implored, “I know you’d rather not have to do it, but this is the opportunity that we’ve always dreamed of. Ian’s us the chance to put the Centre at the forefront of everybody’s mind, at a time when most companies are just about to decide on who they make their charitable donations to.”
There didn’t seem to be any answer to that. “OK” I said, “if Barbara’s happy, I’ll do it.”
Katie spoke, “Count me in as well.”
“Excellent!” said Ian, clapping his hands together. “I’ll liase with George about the exact date and time and so on. Perhaps the two of you could get together and sort out what you’re each going to say, to make sure that you cover slightly different areas. I’m really looking forwards to it.”
With that he shook all our hands again and left. George beamed at both of us.
“What a day!” he said “What a great day!” He scuttled off towards his office, leaving me alone with Katie.
“What have we let ourselves in for?” she asked.
“Indigestion, probably.” I replied, and was rewarded with a chuckle. I continued, “Have a think about what you’d most like to talk about and let me know.”
“You too,” she replied. “At least we’ll have each other there for support.”
I watched her walk into the kitchen to get herself a drink of coffee. As she went, I silently chanted my new mantra in my head. It went “work colleagues, work colleagues, just work colleagues.” Maybe if I said it often enough I’d be convinced.
Chapter Six
The following day was Saturday, so I had a bit of a lie in, and got up around half past nine. I made some breakfast, and began to write a shopping list. Every couple of months I treat myself with a trip down to London to watch the football, but apart from those days, the highlight of my Saturdays is a trip in the car to the supermarket. This isn’t quite as desperate as it sounds, because the supermarket has a multi-screen cinema next to it (Ok, it is fairly desperate). I flicked through the local paper as I ate my toast, and decided which film I w
as going to go and see. When I’d finished, I cleared up, and walked downstairs to the entrance hall which contains the pigeon holes where each day’s post is sorted and stored. Whoever gets first to the post in the morning sorts it all out and puts it all in to the corresponding named slot.
There were two letters in the my slot. The first was a letter from my bank, offering me a loan “at our lowest ever rate of interest”. I crumpled that up and put it in the bin, before turning my attention to the second letter. It was a telephone bill, the only actual calls on it being to work and my occasional use of the Internet.
I was about to go back upstairs when my eye was caught by a small piece of white paper at the very back of the box. It was a note, which must have been placed there before the post arrived, and then been squashed to the back by the two letters. It was written in blue biro, all in capital letters, and my puzzlement increased as I began to read what it said.
JACK,
I NEED TO SEE YOU TO DISCUSS SOMETHING URGENTLY.
PLEASE CAN YOU COME TO MY HOUSE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
I’LL BE AT HOME ALL DAY SATURDAY.
JENNIFER CARTER
The note left me with all sorts of questions. Jennifer had never wanted to see me between sessions before, and I knew that she never saw her clients at weekends. What could possibly be so urgent as to prompt this sort of radical change in behaviour? And why not phone me with the message rather than bring a cryptic note? Besides that, how had she managed to get in the building to put the note in my box? I supposed she could have waited outside until someone used the keypad and then followed them in, but it just seemed such a strange way of doing things.
I decided that I would give her a ring first, just to check that she still needed me to come, and so went back up to my flat. When I rang her number, all I got in response was the answering machine. I hesitated for a moment, and then spoke,
Shaping the Ripples Page 4
