Now the woman started gabbling at her again, following behind her, touching nervously at the sleeve of Belle’s coat.

Belle walked along a shabby hallway. To her left there was an open doorway. Empty desks in there. Like a normal office. But no one about. She walked on and then pushed open another door. Once it had probably been a kitchen. But as she entered she saw no cosy domestic scene. There were men in here – they looked Chinese or Vietnamese, like the woman – and they were wearing facemasks and protective coveralls. Pots of bubbling liquid were all around. Steam and smoke was rising. There was an acrid scent in the air. Belle almost choked the minute she walked in. She stood there and stared. They stared right back at her. Then they erupted into movement and started shouting at her.

Alarmed, Belle backtracked. Suddenly they were all clustering around her, clutching at her, trying to either force her out or to stop her leaving, she didn’t know which. She ran along the hall, pushing past the woman and the men in their weird outfits, choking on something horrible, and she didn’t stop running until she was back at the car. Then quickly she put the key in the lock with a shaking hand. She got in and locked the door behind her. They were gathering out by the gate of the house, pointing and yelling. She wondered if they were actually going to come after her.

Gasping, panicking, she started the engine and quickly steered the car out into the traffic.

What the fuck?

86

Belle thought about it for days afterwards.

‘How’d it go then? Did you talk to the personnel people? Any luck? I think you must be demented to bother, but . . .’ Milly shrugged.

‘No,’ lied Belle. She didn’t want to discuss it with anyone, not yet. She was still trying to process what had happened. So far, it wasn’t adding up; not at all. ‘Actually, I didn’t bother. You’re right. What’s the point? Dad and Charlie would only kick off if they found out I was working there. It was a stupid idea.’

Finally Belle came to a decision, made a quick call and drove up to Cambridge. It took just over an hour on a trouble-free M11. She parked up – the traffic in the centre was hell, but she managed to find a space. She walked over to the college and there he was, waiting for her by the porter’s lodge.

‘Einstein! Hello,’ she said, thinking that he hadn’t changed a fraction since their schooldays. He still had that long, solemn face, that carroty shock of hair. He was taller, but still gangly. His jeans were saggy but his white T-shirt was clean, with RED DEVILS emblazoned across the front. ‘Thanks for seeing me at such short notice.’