Chapter 4
After a few minutes, David Lutman parked
his car a short distance away from the agency. He then picked up the baseball
cap, and without really thinking why, decided to give it closer examination. It
was then that he noticed the cotton lining around the inner rim had come apart,
revealing something grey inside. He turned out the rim and saw it: small, thin,
and sweat-smudged, but legible black biro lettering.
I WANT THIS TO BE TRUE. He read it
again. I WANT THIS TO BE TRUE . What the
hell did that mean? He carefully folded the cap in half and placed it inside
his front jacket pocket.
*
Lutman entered the small but busy travel agency, and
sat down while he waited for a mother’s plane tickets to be sorted. When that
was done, the pretty ginger-haired travel agent - Becky, as her name badge
identified her - beckoned him over. She smiled. Lutman was one of her regular
customers.
He blushed slightly. He knew he could have done all
this over the Internet, but Becky was a comforting presence. She was very
pretty and had a very pleasant demeanour, but she was also very extrovert,
which he knew placed her well out of his league. She removed a StatesTrek brochure from a filing
cabinet that was placed in the far corner of the agency, and thumbed through
the pages to the booking instructions. Most of her holiday business was
standard family packages, so booking trips like this were a welcome change.
Worryingly for Lutman, his original choice of trip, The Indian Adventure, was booked up for
the next four weeks. Becky added that there was one place left on the trip for
the fifth week, which flew out October 8th, and that the trip itself was starting
the following morning. It was the last such trip of the year, and if he did not
book it now, she warned, it would almost certainly be gone by the morning. Lutman
accepted it without hesitation. If anything, booking that far ahead would
ensure that there would be no problems getting time off work.
Things
were starting to happen. He was going to the United States . He was
comfortable with the decision and about why he was going. He took the cap out
of his pocket, now feeling some kind of assurance that he was on his way to
solving its riddles and the considerable number of others that it had provided.
*
His regular
car park full, David Lutman was forced to park his car in a metered area two
minutes walk from his office. But as he dreamily turned the corner towards his
rooms, a disturbance just a few meters away swiftly brought him back to
reality. Down a quiet side street he could see
a skinhead dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, assaulting an old woman and
trying to snatch her handbag. Although she was putting up a pretty good fight, the
thug eventually forced her to the ground. Lutman’s
initial instinct was to walk away as if nothing was happening, but something
compelled him from doing so. Despite her cries, and being clearly visible to
everyone who happened to be crossing the road, she was ignored. Then he
swallowed hard in horror as her attacker produced a large knife. He found
himself backing away, anxious not to be seen.
When he
did summon up the courage to look, the old lady was sitting up on the pavement,
dazed and sobbing, shouting for help, but otherwise looked uninjured. It was
only now that when he ran towards her, he was relieved to see that the thug had
got out the knife to cut the strap of her bag, and so removing it from her arm.
He called the police on his cell phone; the lady thanked him and told him it
was a pity he could not have got to her earlier.
But Lutman
knew he could have done. Just like everybody else who walked away, he thought,
he was a coward.
*
The
mugging incident had somewhat curbed his enthusiasm for anything else, even any
temptation to close his eyes. Tiredness had been replaced by regret, not the
first time he had had this feeling. In his workstation, he felt like doing
little else but staring at the computer monitor.
‘Nothing
to do?’
Lutman sat
up suddenly. A slightly plumpish, but petite, attractive blonde popped her head
around the corner and strolled casually into his cubicle. She was dressed in a
blue blouse that teasingly revealed the start of her cleavage, and a pair of
loose fitting jeans.
Jeannie
Cattrell had joined the council only three months previously, and in that short
time had quickly built up a friendly rapport with Lutman. He was not interested
in pursuing any kind of romantic relationship with her, and it seemed that she was
giving him the same impression. Besides, he knew she already had a boyfriend
and was co-habiting with him, and she was quite happy telling him this. She
loved going out and clubbing. Safe that there was no way she was going to be his
type or be at all interested in him personally, Lutman
felt very comfortable and relaxed in her presence.
In fact,
he was relieved of her relaxed company with him. His confidence with the
opposite sex had been shattered ever since he tried to chat up her predecessor,
in his eyes, a lovely shoulder-length brunette named Caroline. That
relationship had begun in a similar way, developing to the point that they
would occasionally go out together, if only to have a casual drink in local bars.
Although he liked her – and, he had thought, she liked him – he wanted it to be
so much more. Six months later, she started to get romantically involved with
someone else who worked in one of the two council blocks. Despite the fact that
she was firmly in the belief that they were only meant to be friends, Lutman
felt betrayed and decided immediately upon confrontation.
Shortly
after 1.00pm
when everybody had left their desks and gone out to lunch, he complained bitterly
to her face about her dating someone else after all the numerous occasions he
had taken her out. Shocked and livid, she told him in no uncertain terms what he
could do with himself. It was a reponse that he had been totally unprepared
for, and he was absolutely distraught. She then immediately left the office,
marched to the car park, started up her old Ford Fiesta and headed towards the
centre of town. Five minutes later, she went straight into the back of a truck
that was waiting at a red light next to the Rugby
ground.
Within
seconds, the car was completely engulfed in flames. Crash Investigators would
find very little evidence to establish what had exactly happened; many
witnesses who were standing at a bus stop nearby claimed that she was driving
excessively fast, and was unable to stop. There was very little left to work
with, and there was no way of determining what exactly happened to the car and
driver.
As a
matter of routine, police interviewed all her colleagues, Lutman included. He
admitted that he was in the office when she left and that he was the last
person she had spoken to; although they asked him what they had talked about,
he could not bring himself to admit the quarrel, simply saying that she had to
leave the office quickly, but not stating why. In the eyes of everybody, the
Caroline/David relationship had been purely platonic; in addition, she had not
been at the office long enough for anyone to get to know her properly. There
were no suspicious circumstances, and so an open verdict was given. But this
was no comfort to Lutman. He felt responsible, and vowed never to attempt a
relationship with a work colleague again.
*
‘Hi, gone
a little quiet now on the inputting,’ Jeannie chirped, ‘so I’ve got a spare
couple of hours or so. What’s happening this end then, Dave?’
‘Well,’ Lutman began, thankful for the interruption, ‘apart
from the usual boring press releases and the bloody phone calls preventing me
dedicating a hundred per cent concentration to the job, I’ve gone and booked
myself a holiday.’
Jeannie looked surprised. ‘Oh yeah? When for? Next
summer?’
‘Nope, in
a few weeks. I’m off to the States.’
‘Again?’ She sounded genuinely puzzled. ‘Didn’t you tell
me you went last year? Oh yeah, it’s a trek again, isn’t it. How many of these
things did you say you’d been on? Weren’t it two or three–?’
‘Two,’ said Lutman, ‘but I’m rather excited about this
one.’ He got the brochure from his case and opened it up on top of the piles of
unopened correspondence. ‘Here, look. The
Indian Adventure. I fly out from Gatwick to Los Angeles, and from there we
go into the desert, visit Phoenix, Mesa Verde, go to the Grand Canyon, Monument
Valley in the heart of Indian country, visit Canyonlands, go canoeing on the
Colorado river, spend a couple of days at a ranch in Utah, see Bryce and Zion
canyons, spend a couple of days in Las Vegas and then return to Los Angeles.
Can’t wait!’
‘But haven’t you been to some of those places?’
Jeannie asked curiously, ‘I mean, I remember you telling me only the other week
you were thinking about Florida, or going somewhere different…’
‘Well, I was,’ said Lutman uncertainly, ‘but, well, I
don’t know. I like the West.’
‘Must be a very nice place if you’re going back. So,
how much is that going to set you back then?’
‘It’s, er… about eight hundred pounds.’
‘Hey, that ain’t bad.’
Lutman forced a grin. ‘Are you interested in going
then, Jeannie?’
She laughed. ‘Only if the other half lets me!’
‘Well,’ smiled Lutman, ‘you’ve got no chance anyway. I
just got hold of the last slot!’
‘Oh…okay.’ Her voice went quiet for a moment, but then
quickly reverted to its chirpy, bubbly tone. ‘It’ll be great… thinking about
it, I think it’d be a super trip! Go for it, Dave!’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Well,
now you’ve given me the idea,’ she laughed, ‘I might well check up on what else
they’ve got, if not now, then next year: At least it’ll get the other half off
his arse all day and do something!’
They both laughed. As he finally became relaxed again,
Lutman stifled a yawn as weariness set in.
But then Jeannie noticed her boss wandering around the
partitioned workspaces. ‘Here’s Trouble. Better get back to my desk. See ya!’
Chapter 5 >
Chapter 5 >
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