Chapter 4

 

April gave her alias to the receptionist, “Gemma Dean to see Tom Campbell.” She glanced at her watch, “Sorry, I’m a bit early, my appointment isn’t until eleven.”

The shrill of the telephone interrupted them.

“That’s fine,” the receptionist smiled, “have a seat. I’ll just take this call and see if he’s free.”

She sat down on the well-used settee and gazed around the room wondering if the offices were only used for probation and parole services. The building was archaic, but with modern touches such as the doors with disability access, and the huge fire-exit signs. She ran her hand along the old radiator. Even though heat was blasting out, the room felt cold. It most probably had been built in the early part of the nineteenth century with its huge ceilings and wide door frames, a time when indoor heating wasn’t part of life.

She tightened her jacket around her.

The door opened and a man in his mid-fifties walked towards the desk and handed the receptionist two envelopes as she hung up the phone.

“Can you put them in the post please, Emma?”

“Yes, of course,” the receptionist took the envelopes from him. “Miss Dean’s here to see you,” she gestured with her head towards the seating area.

He turned and took two steps towards her, holding out his hand. April stood up and took it. It was a feeble handshake for a man.

“Hi. I’m Tom Campbell, pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiled. So this was her parole officer. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, it wasn’t like she’d ever needed one before.

“Would you like to follow me,” he instructed, and turned towards the receptionist. “Hold any calls for the next hour or so please, Emma.”

“Will do,” Emma answered, quickly taking another call.

 

They walked the endless corridors side by side. It seemed like his office was the furthest away from the reception area. The silence between them was interrupted occasionally by someone passing by, addressing him pleasantly.

“Here we are,” he said eventually. He opened the door to his office and indicated she went in before him, “please take a seat.” He nodded to a small area away from the desk which appeared to be set up as a meeting area with less formal chairs and a low coffee table.

It was a dismal old office which clearly hadn’t seen a decorator for twenty years or so. It still appeared that whoever had occupied the office smoked at least twenty a day. Even the office furniture looked antiquated.

“Can I get you a coffee? It’s only instant, I’m afraid.”

“No, thank you,” she sat down on the worn padded chair, lifted her satchel bag over her head and placed it on the floor beside her, “I’m fine. I just had one before I left home. But please, you go ahead.”

“I’ve already had my quota this morning. I’m one of those people that can’t function without coffee, so by mid-morning, I’ve had quite enough.”

A tap on the door made them both turn their heads. Even before the door opened, April knew exactly who it was.

Today was all part of a well-rehearsed plan.

The last three months had been working towards this particular moment.