by Annie Dalton
Wagging her tail, Bonnie went straight to Tansy to let her know they were home. ‘Hi! I didn’t hear you guys come in. How was your walk?’ Tansy glanced up from the dishwasher where she’d been stacking the pans she’d used for baking. Her glossy black curls, inherited from her Trinidadian mum, were pulled into their usual careless topknot.
‘Good.’ Anna refilled Bonnie’s water bowl at the sink. The minute she’d set it down, Bonnie began drinking with the single-minded concentration only a thirsty dog can manage. ‘Jake called,’ Anna added. ‘He sends his best, also asked if you’d been on any exciting stakeouts!’
Tansy straightened up from the dishwasher. ‘Well, next time you tell him from me that joke is getting old!’ Her delicate heart-shaped face suddenly registered concern. ‘He’s still coming for Christmas, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, he’s still coming. He says if necessary he’ll steal a plane and fly it himself.’
‘Can Jake actually fly a plane? Silly question, of course he can! He could probably build one from scratch!’ Tansy gestured to the tray of muffins cooling on the counter. ‘Ta-da!’
‘They smell amazing!’ Anna said. ‘What’s in them?’
‘Orange zest, cranberries,’ Tansy said. ‘Shall I make us some coffee?’ Tansy had been a dedicated vegan and a health-nut besides when they’d first met, drinking only filtered water and herbal teas. But since she’d got together with Liam her determination to eat only pure foods had flown out of the window. ‘He seduced me with a bacon sandwich!’ she’d told Anna one morning, only half joking. ‘I just don’t know who I am any more, Anna! I drink espresso with you. I eat bacon with him. You’d better hope I never run into Hannibal Lector!’
Anna gave a yearning look at the muffins. ‘I’d love some,’ she told Tansy. ‘But I think I left my iPad at work. I was just going to collect it. Can you hold off till I get back? I shouldn’t be long.’
‘Sure,’ Tansy said mischievously. ‘Wouldn’t want Nadine to give you a demerit for leaving your things lying around the office.’
Anna tipped some kibble in Bonnie’s food bowl and was about to speed back upstairs when she noticed the envelope lying on the table. Tansy had posted all her other Christmas cards days ago except this one.
‘Shall I post this for you while I’m out?’ Anna asked. ‘I’ve got some stamps.’
‘I haven’t decided if I’m sending it yet.’ Tansy was instantly tight-lipped. It was like she’d slammed a door between them and Anna knew to back off. Tansy’s feelings about her dad were complicated to say the least. ‘Anything you need from town?’ she asked in her most neutral voice. Tansy just shook her head. ‘Well, text me if you think of anything.’
Twenty minutes later Anna was walking through Oxford’s city centre, heading towards the college where she had a job-share as an administrative assistant. Soon the students would disappear home for the holidays, but for now Anna could still enjoy them as part of the scenery.
Oxford felt genuinely Christmassy now, she thought; the crisp December air, the kitschy Christmas songs blasting from doorways, the strings of little twinkling lights and festive decorations everywhere. It was a long time since Anna had actually looked forward to Christmas, half her life-time in fact, but this year she felt as giddy as a five-year-old.
She still hadn’t bought Jake a present, she remembered. She mentally scrolled through possibilities (Jake travelled a lot, he still didn’t have a permanent home, so nothing too cumbersome). She’d almost reached the gates of Walsingham College before she noticed the emergency vehicles parked up on the pavement. There was an ambulance, as well as two motorbikes, the kind used by first-response paramedics, and what looked to Anna like an entire fleet of police cars.
She felt her happiness wobble. The previous Christmas one of Walsingham’s most promising female undergraduates had taken a fatal overdose. Anna wasn’t working at the college then, but she’d heard about it from her colleague Kirsty. She should know, if anybody knew, how hard the Christmas holidays could be for someone who was already struggling to keep afloat. Suppose it had happened again?
Then a stab of fear went through her, and she thought, Oh, God, what if something’s happened to Kirsty – or Paul? Anna’s life had taught her that absolutely anything could happen to anybody at any time. She went in through the gates of the porter’s lodge where the senior porter, Mr Boswell, was visibly grey with shock.
‘What’s happened?’ Anna asked though she was dreading the answer.
‘It’s Professor Lowell. Brenda found him when she went in to clean. The poor man must have been lying helpless all night.’ Boswell shook his head.
Caught up in her own alarming imaginings, Anna had forgotten that people sometimes collapse from natural causes. ‘Was it his heart?’ she asked, wondering if Kirsty had been told. Kirsty had a soft spot for Professor Lowell.
Boswell’s expression became grim. ‘No, miss, I’m sorry to say he was attacked in his rooms. Beaten to a pulp, Brenda said he was.’ The porter rubbed a meaty hand across his face. His chin quivered. ‘I mean, what kind of heartless thug would want to harm that lovely old man?’
Anna heard fresh police sirens outside. ‘I should let you get on,’ she managed. ‘You’ve got enough to deal with.’ She fled through the gate, hurrying along the covered stone walkway that led to the administrative offices. The first time she’d entered these ancient walled gardens, she’d felt a fleeting sense of peace and calm enclose her as if nothing could ever harm her here.
With a jolt she spotted Tansy’s boyfriend, Liam, with his boss, Inspector Chaudhari, on the other side of the gardens. They were talking to Walsingham’s shocked-looking principal. Seeing Anna, Liam discreetly raised a hand in greeting. She just nodded and continued on her way. She’d attracted plenty of voyeurs in her time, people who got off on other people’s tragedies, and she didn’t want Tansy’s boyfriend to think she was like them.
Unexpectedly her way was barred by a ruddy-faced police constable. ‘Stand aside, please, miss, if you wouldn’t mind. They need to bring the stretcher out.’
She hastily moved out of the way. Three paramedics emerged from a doorway at a run, one on either side of the gurney, one holding up some kind of drip. Anna caught a shocking glimpse of the professor, his eyes closed, his blood-streaked face pale as vellum beneath the oxygen mask, bloodied bandages around his head.
She was suddenly somewhere high above herself, like a bird, or one of Walsingham’s stone gargoyles, looking down at the whirling blue lights and the concerned faces of the paramedics as they loaded Professor Lowell’s ominously still form into the ambulance.
TWO
Anna could never remember afterwards how she made her way to her office. She just found herself on the claustrophobic little landing outside. Nadine’s voice was unpleasantly audible through the not-quite-closed door. ‘I’m sorry, Paul, but this is simply not good enough for Walsingham College. Someone needs to put up a notice on the door of Professor Lowell’s tutorial room right away letting his students know the tutorial has been cancelled.’ As usual, Nadine was turning someone else’s misfortune into her personal drama.
‘Nadine, since you immediately emailed everyone on the professor’s tutorial list and posted a notice on the College website, I honestly don’t see that anything else needs to be done.’ Their senior administrator’s normally mild tone was acquiring an edge. ‘The tutees concerned are all third years and living in halls. They’ll have already heard the news, and the porters will have enough to do this morning of all mornings without dashing around sticking up notices.’
Anna really couldn’t take Nadine today. She’d have to pick up the iPad during her next shift. She was about to retreat when her boss emerged on to the landing. ‘Anna!’ Paul said, obviously startled to see her. ‘Are you OK? Come in and sit down.’
Seeing her escape cut off, Anna felt herself break into a sweat. She opened her mouth with absolutely no idea what she was going to say. ‘I – I forgot my iPad.’
She heard Kirsty call, ‘Is Anna here? Oh, God, has she heard?’ She came rushing out of the office. Anna caught a glimpse of her shocked hazel eyes and coppery curls, before Kirsty enveloped her in an embrace. ‘Have you heard about Professor Lowell? I can’t believe it.’
‘Yes, I heard.’ Some people find it comforting to have people around them in a crisis. Anna found it unspeakably stressful. Her overriding instinct was to run and hide. But she’d grown genuinely fond of Kirsty so she let herself be drawn into their airless little office.
Nadine appeared not to notice Anna’s arrival, and was instead engaged in extremely theatrical typing. Officially Nadine and Anna now shared the job that Nadine had once done full-time. Unfortunately Nadine’s inner control freak had not accepted this change of status. Her eyes fixed stonily on her screen, Nadine activated the office printer which began to emit clicking and whirring sounds.
‘He was such a duck,’ Kirsty was still clinging on to Anna’s hand. ‘Such a brilliant, brilliant man, but he never talked down to anyone, not like some of them. He always used to ask me about Charlie – I mean, attacked in his rooms, Anna! I can’t believe it! It’s like nobody’s safe anywhere, even here!’ She gave an involuntary glance at her little boy’s photo on her desk. ‘It’ll be some crazed druggie looking for something they could sell. The professor must have surprised him and he flipped!’
It was an all-too-likely scenario, Anna thought. The professor’s injuries had been savage as if they’d been inflicted in a kind of frenzy.
The printer spat out a single sheet of paper. Nadine rose majestically from behind her desk as if to remind everyone whose desk it really was. Somewhere in her early fifties, she was dressed in an electric turquoise two-piece that made Anna think of cruise-wear. (‘Nadine’s very matchy-matchy,’ Kirsty had commented once.)
‘I’m not quite sure why you’re here, Anna,’ Nadine said in a frigid tone, ‘but I’m afraid neither Kirsty nor I have time to chat. My morning was already looking like the morning from hell. Now on top of that I have to personally take this notice over to Professor Lowell’s tutorial room!’
‘I don’t believe you do, Nadine, as I’ve already said.’ Paul was still standing in the doorway. He attempted a smile. ‘Pre-Christmas tutorials are usually just an excuse for mince pies and a glass of mulled wine!’
‘We can’t just send out emails in a situation like this!’ Sometimes Nadine sounded like a bad actress who was playing the part of an administrator. ‘This is Walsingham College! We simply cannot let this unfortunate incident impact on our standards.’ Snatching her notice from the jaws of the printer, she swept out in a blur of turquoise.
Paul ran his hand distractedly through his hair. He looked as if there was a great deal he wanted to say but being Paul was too professional to say it out loud.
Kirsty had no such qualms. ‘“Unfortunate incident”,’ she mimicked bitterly. ‘That poor man’s fighting for his life and she’s worried about Walsingham’s ancient fucking standards or whatever.’ She abruptly covered her face. ‘I was so happy on the bus this morning,’ she said in a muffled voice. Kirsty had recently gone through a particularly unpleasant break-up; for a time it had looked as if she and Charlie might be made homeless. When he learned that Kirsty and her little boy were in need of accommodation, Paul had offered to let Kirsty rent his annexe until they found a more permanent home.
‘I told Charlie we could buy our tree this afternoon when he comes out of nursery. I promised him he could help decorate it.’ Kirsty took her hands away from her face. ‘And all the time, poor Professor Lowell was lying all by himself, hurt and scared, and I feel like I should have been able to stop it happening!’
Paul whipped off his spectacles, often a sign that his emotions were running high. They were subtly stylish, new spectacles, Anna noticed. In fact his general appearance, previously stuck at 1990s geek, was also subtly more up to date. Kirsty seemed to have been doing a little strategic styling.
‘You couldn’t have known though, Kirsty.’ Paul tentatively lifted a hand as if to touch her shoulder then let it drop. Conscious of being Kirsty’s boss and now her landlord, he was careful never to do anything that might seem to be taking advantage, but his protective body language gave his feelings away; at least, it did to Anna.
‘You absolutely couldn’t have known,’ Anna agreed. She walked across to the desk she shared with Nadine and opened the drawer designated for her personal use. As she’d hoped, Nadine had placed her iPad inside for safekeeping. She stowed it in her bag before she straightened up and looked at Kirsty. ‘Professor Lowell wouldn’t want you to feel guilty. He’d just be touched to know that you think so kindly of him.’
‘Do you think so?’ Kirsty said, swallowing.
Paul nodded. ‘Anna’s right, he’d be touched.’
‘I always think he has such sad eyes.’ Kirsty’s eyes brimmed and she quickly fumbled for a tissue. ‘Sorry, it’s been a tough few days.’
Kirsty had had a tough few years, Anna thought. Not only had her husband, Jason, thrown Kirsty and her small son over for his ex, it had emerged that he’d been having a clandestine affair with a sixteen-year old who was now expecting his baby. The girl’s father and big brothers were after Jason’s blood, and his ex, quite sensibly, had dumped him. Kirsty knew she’d had a lucky escape, but it still hurt. ‘I just feel so stupid for ever imagining that he loved me and Charlie,’ she’d told Anna the last time they’d talked over lunch. ‘It’s like he’s dragged us into his squalid Jeremy Kyle world. It’s humiliating.’
Allowing herself to be hugged by Kirsty one last time, Anna left the office, denying Nadine the satisfaction of ignoring her twice in a row. When she emerged on to the High Street she saw that there were now only two police cars parked outside. The urgent lights and sirens had all moved on to the next emergency.
Anna made her way back to the Cornmarket along streets hung with Christmassy stars, swooping angels’ wings, and, more surprisingly, flying umbrellas. She found herself wishing she could take her own advice. It wasn’t Kirsty’s fault Professor Lowell had been attacked, why should Anna think it was hers. ‘Believe it or not, Anna, everything is not always all about you!’ her mother used to say, exasperated. But this horrifying attack in her workplace had stirred up all her old shame and guilt. She had let it in. The violence had followed her. It kept on following her.
On the bus back to Park Town, she tried to soothe herself by imagining the small pleasures she’d been anticipating before her morning took such a violent turn; taking her grandfather to midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, cooking him Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, helped by Tansy and Isadora who would both be with her for Christmas Day. It was sickening what had happened to Professor Lowell, but she had to try not to let it devastate her.
When Anna let herself into her flat she was surprised to see Bonnie waiting for her by the front door. She bent to stroke her. ‘What are you doing up here all by yourself, you funny girl? You can’t have missed me that much already!’ There was something in her dog’s physical presence that always made Anna feel calmer, safer, more real. She wondered whether all dog owners discovered this magical side benefit to dog ownership, or if she just had an incredibly special dog?
She glanced in through the sitting room door. Aside from a lick of fresh paint, Anna had done little to change this room since her grandparents’ day. She liked the calm Georgian space exactly the way it was, with its wooden shutters, faded kelim rugs and old sofas, and her grandfather’s eclectic collection of paintings. Now, with Christmas baubles softly shimmering on the Norwegian spruce that she and Tansy had chosen for their tree, the room seemed to be almost holding its breath. There had been so much grief and sorrow in this house, but Anna didn’t want to be that grieving woman any more.
Needing to banish the image of Professor Lowell’s broken and bleeding face, she walked over to the Christmas tree and flicked a switch so the fairy lights sprang to life. Fairy lights had been t
he one aspect of Christmas tree decoration on which she and Tansy had been in complete agreement. No intermittent flashing, no hideous LED colours, just simple, starry white. ‘Let’s have our coffee and muffins up here!’ she called to Tansy.
Hearing Anna’s voice, Tansy came hurrying up from the kitchen. ‘Isadora’s here,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Something really terrible has happened but she can’t seem to tell me what.’
Anna followed Tansy downstairs. The kitchen still held the warm scents of spice and orange from Tansy’s baking. The French doors stood slightly open. Isadora was outside, smoking a roll-up with the single-minded intensity that marks out the serious smoker.
‘I never knew Isadora smoked,’ Anna whispered to Tansy.
‘She said she found the tobacco in a drawer,’ Tansy hissed back. ‘It’s got to be rank by now.’
Isadora’s eleven-month-old puppy, Hero, was on the other side of the door, her breath making tiny smudges on the cold glass, and looking equally appalled by her owner’s behaviour. Anna had never been able to figure out what breed of dog Hero was. ‘Half dog, half goblin?’ Tansy had suggested with a grin, when Anna had finally asked, and explained that Hero was the result of an illicit liaison between a cocker spaniel and a Tibetan terrier. ‘Hence the disturbing combo of cute floppy ears with manic Bettie Page fringe!’
‘I’ve made coffee,’ Tansy told Anna in a more normal tone. ‘Do you want some?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Anna was still watching Isadora. Her long, wiry black and silver hair had been pulled back from her face with a raggedy scarf. Her trousers looked as if they’d been fished out of the dirty laundry hamper. Over the trousers Isadora had thrown a shapeless black garment that seemed part coat, part horse-blanket. Anna had only once seen the colourful Isadora all in black and that was at a memorial service.
Bonnie joined Hero at the window, as if in silent solidarity. Even the dogs know something is wrong, Anna thought.