Hands of the Ripper by Guy Adams Read Free Book Online
Authors: Guy Adams
possibly achieve other than the rather obvious one that desperate people will do anything in order to find comfort?
He certainly couldn’t afford to keep attending with such regularity, at ten pounds a ticket it was an expensive folly as well as a pointless one.
Yes, all very logical, and yet still he went. Observing from the darkness as the grieving and the greedy exchanged business. It occurred to him one night, as he watched an elderly woman weep over the death of her mother some twenty years earlier, that he was no better than Jane at letting go.
Three
Lying in the Dark
‘CAN WE MEET up?’ asked Michael. ‘I could do with some advice.’
John shuffled the mobile from one ear to the other. ‘Let me guess, you’re gay?’
‘That’s it precisely. How about a sandwich or something? I can tell you all about it.’
‘I’m free at one, that do?’
‘Fine, I’ll meet you at Verano.’
Verano was a little cafe just across the road from the main university building. The sort of student-orientated place that offered soup and sandwiches at a price they could nearly afford. John didn’t eat there often as he always felt he was intruding into their world, crossing some indefinable line between student and lecturer. Still, he and Michael could always grab something to take away, better that than try and talk in the middle of this rugby scrum for cheese and pickle.
‘Oh, hey sir,’ John found himself face to face with Shaun Vedder, the student that had given Golding’s flyer to Ray.
‘Hi Shaun, all good?’
‘Yeah, well, they’ve run out of vegetable tikka wraps so, no, lunch sucks but I’ll get over it.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘You ever go see that medium?’
John was thrown by that, it had never occurred to him that Ray might have mentioned his interest. ‘Medium?’ he replied, more to buy time than out of any confusion.
‘Yeah, Ray told me you might look into it. Writing some kind of paper or something?’
‘Oh …’ John feigned casual remembrance, aware that he was doing it badly, ‘yes, something like that.’
‘Only, if you need any help I’m kind of into that sort of thing myself. Be cool to do some coursework on it.’
‘Well, we’ll see … I’m not sure if I—’
‘No problem.’
John could see Shaun was upset. He was the sort of kid that always wanted to impress, determined to make friends with every member of the faculty.
‘I’m just not a hundred per cent on where I’m going with it yet,’ John insisted, ‘but I’d definitely give you a shout if—’
‘Cool.’ Shaun clearly wasn’t fooled and left the cafe with a false smile firmly fixed in place. In the doorway he almost collided with Michael.
‘Hi,’ Michael said, once he had picked out his father’s face from the crowd, ‘have I picked the most popular place to eat in the city?’
‘Pretty much,’ John smiled. ‘Let’s grab something and then take it back to my office, we’ll have some peace and quiet that way.’
*
John’s office had long since ousted human comfort in favour of expanding quantities of paper. Books lined the walls, student reports and Internet printouts slithered between magazines and journals. The whole room rustled.
‘Years since I’ve been in here,’ said Michael while he waited for his dad to clear a place for him to sit.
‘Years since anyone’s been in here except me,’ John admitted, dumping back issues of
The Psychologist
onto the floor so as to free up a small chair that had been hiding beneath them. ‘I tend to conduct interviews in the canteen, it’s cleaner and serves coffee.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Michael, sitting down and carefully unwrapping his beef and horseradish sandwich.
‘So,’ said John, ‘what was it you wanted to talk about?’
Michael, mouth full of sandwich rolled his eyes and chewed.
‘In your own time,’ said John, ‘I mean, some of us have jobs to do but …’
Michael kicked his father’s shin and swallowed. ‘Git,’ he
He certainly couldn’t afford to keep attending with such regularity, at ten pounds a ticket it was an expensive folly as well as a pointless one.
Yes, all very logical, and yet still he went. Observing from the darkness as the grieving and the greedy exchanged business. It occurred to him one night, as he watched an elderly woman weep over the death of her mother some twenty years earlier, that he was no better than Jane at letting go.
Three
Lying in the Dark
‘CAN WE MEET up?’ asked Michael. ‘I could do with some advice.’
John shuffled the mobile from one ear to the other. ‘Let me guess, you’re gay?’
‘That’s it precisely. How about a sandwich or something? I can tell you all about it.’
‘I’m free at one, that do?’
‘Fine, I’ll meet you at Verano.’
Verano was a little cafe just across the road from the main university building. The sort of student-orientated place that offered soup and sandwiches at a price they could nearly afford. John didn’t eat there often as he always felt he was intruding into their world, crossing some indefinable line between student and lecturer. Still, he and Michael could always grab something to take away, better that than try and talk in the middle of this rugby scrum for cheese and pickle.
‘Oh, hey sir,’ John found himself face to face with Shaun Vedder, the student that had given Golding’s flyer to Ray.
‘Hi Shaun, all good?’
‘Yeah, well, they’ve run out of vegetable tikka wraps so, no, lunch sucks but I’ll get over it.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘You ever go see that medium?’
John was thrown by that, it had never occurred to him that Ray might have mentioned his interest. ‘Medium?’ he replied, more to buy time than out of any confusion.
‘Yeah, Ray told me you might look into it. Writing some kind of paper or something?’
‘Oh …’ John feigned casual remembrance, aware that he was doing it badly, ‘yes, something like that.’
‘Only, if you need any help I’m kind of into that sort of thing myself. Be cool to do some coursework on it.’
‘Well, we’ll see … I’m not sure if I—’
‘No problem.’
John could see Shaun was upset. He was the sort of kid that always wanted to impress, determined to make friends with every member of the faculty.
‘I’m just not a hundred per cent on where I’m going with it yet,’ John insisted, ‘but I’d definitely give you a shout if—’
‘Cool.’ Shaun clearly wasn’t fooled and left the cafe with a false smile firmly fixed in place. In the doorway he almost collided with Michael.
‘Hi,’ Michael said, once he had picked out his father’s face from the crowd, ‘have I picked the most popular place to eat in the city?’
‘Pretty much,’ John smiled. ‘Let’s grab something and then take it back to my office, we’ll have some peace and quiet that way.’
*
John’s office had long since ousted human comfort in favour of expanding quantities of paper. Books lined the walls, student reports and Internet printouts slithered between magazines and journals. The whole room rustled.
‘Years since I’ve been in here,’ said Michael while he waited for his dad to clear a place for him to sit.
‘Years since anyone’s been in here except me,’ John admitted, dumping back issues of
The Psychologist
onto the floor so as to free up a small chair that had been hiding beneath them. ‘I tend to conduct interviews in the canteen, it’s cleaner and serves coffee.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Michael, sitting down and carefully unwrapping his beef and horseradish sandwich.
‘So,’ said John, ‘what was it you wanted to talk about?’
Michael, mouth full of sandwich rolled his eyes and chewed.
‘In your own time,’ said John, ‘I mean, some of us have jobs to do but …’
Michael kicked his father’s shin and swallowed. ‘Git,’ he