The Lost Swimmer Read Online Free

improved person?’
    â€˜You don’t need improving and you haven’t got time.’
    â€˜It’s a gross waste of money and Priscilla’s a hypocrite, I agree. Cutting staff, cutting budgets and yet she pushes all this rubbish.’
    Melinda was looking at me with pity.
    â€˜Well, I’m made of sterner stuff than that,’ I continued firmly, ‘I’ll just do what she says. Better that she picks on me than someone weaker.’ I stuffed the letter into my pocket. ‘What’s annoying is that I’d planned to stay home and write that day.’
    I was working on a book about Santorini in the seventeenth century BC and was in the middle of a chapter on the volcanic eruption where people had fled from their settlement in Akrotiri. Many items had been found at the settlement, either forgotten or left in haste; my favourite was a gold ibex figurine hidden inside a larnax, a clay chest. The little ibex, which looked like a child’s impression of a goat mixed with a baby horse, stood in relaxed repose. The gold was pure with a sublime lustre. It was likely his owners had run high into the hills and only then realised that their most precious possession had been forgotten. After the eruption Akrotiri was buried in lava, houses entombed, the ibex waiting patiently for millennia until it was again cherished. But its precise use was lost in the mists of time. What was its significance?
    â€˜You’re not going to think badly of me are you, like a rat abandoning ship?’ Melinda’s voice cut through my thoughts.
    â€˜Never. Email me the details and I’ll sign off and send it to HR. Won’t New York be cold at this time of year?’
    â€˜Freezing. I want a change of everything, including the weather. I’m hoping it’ll be cloaked in snow.’
    â€˜And how long are you going for?’
    Silence.
    â€˜Mel?’
    She suddenly looked old. ‘I was thinking until the end of next semester.’
    â€˜But that’s a lifetime!’
    â€˜I have enough leave owing. I want to travel around, catch up with friends in Seattle and San Francisco. I thought you could get Justine in here? She’ll watch your back. I’ve run it past her and she said she’d wrangle a temporary transfer from Politics.’
    â€˜Really? Well, I guess . . .’ Melinda looked desperate. ‘I’ll call her. I’m sure we’ll be able to make this work for you.’
    â€˜You’re a brick.’
    I smiled, doing my best to hide my concern. What would I do without her?
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    Their bellies stretched in front of them like two boulders. Pam Edwards, rushing straight from an Ancient History lecture, wore a body-hugging T-shirt and tapered trousers to accentuate her impossibly long legs; she matched these with killer stilettos that gave her the height of a giraffe and was accessorised to the hilt with chunky jewellery. Josie Sweeney was decked out in the traditional hide-all smock over bare legs; her feet reclined in Birkenstocks. Their faces were alike – both tragic.
    â€˜She’s sent us another letter.’ Pam passed it across.
    Josie’s voice was a whisper. ‘It’s so awful, being made to feel worthless. My husband and doctor think I should take the package.’
    â€˜You might feel that now, but when you’re home alone with your child you may want this place, at least part-time in the first few years, which we can manage,’ I replied. ‘You’re anything but worthless. You know how highly the students rate you. And the way through our trouble is to get more enrolments, not keep shrinking the department out of existence.’
    Josie nodded, sniffing back tears. ‘I’ve always loved coming to work.’
    â€˜My family want me to leave too,’ said Pam as she rubbed her belly. ‘I’ve become unbearable around the house. I’m screaming at everyone.