PART TWO - CAMBRIDGE
- 6 -
Professor Jane Cavendish slammed the door of her small one bedroom flat. She kicked off her shoes and let her heavy shoulder bag fall to the floor. It had been quite a day. She had been confronted by murder, mystery and the return into her life or someone she had thought lost.
When she had first seen the reports of the Rokeby Venus murder, Jane had to admit that her thoughts had instantly gravitated towards her own fascination with the painting, her own theories. She had published a paper on the secret symbolism of the Rokeby Venus a few years earlier and it had attracted very little attention, yet the first thing she thought of when the painting appeared in the news was that it was related to her discoveries.
Like any rationally thinking person, however, Jane had dismissed this as projecting her own preoccupations onto the news story. And then her prodigal departed best student had walked back into her office and confronted her with the grisly symbolism she had espoused written in blood at the murder scene. It was really something to take in.
Saphy Cross had always been a troubled girl, set somewhat apart from the rest of the bright young things in Jane's classes, pretty, preppy kids brimming with confidence, keen to get ahead in the world. Saphy was different. Beneath that fiery exterior, brimming with piercings and tattoos, full of aggression, was a smart and sensitive girl who had never really had anyone to look out for her.
Saphy had learned to think for herself and to never take anybody else's opinion as truth. It had meant that she was always coming out with smart new ideas that hadn't even occurred to Jane, but that she was a nightmare to teach anything and get her to accept it without hundreds of questions. She was just the kind of student to frustrate any teacher and just the kind that the best teachers truly remember.
Jane knew that Saphy came from a fairly privileged background and had had all the benefits of an expensive private education. She also knew that the girl had a lot of troubles back home. She had obviously fallen out pretty seriously with her family. After a few months in which Jane felt she and Saphy had got close enough for Saphy to open up, she had tried to get Saphy to elaborate on her home situation, but the younger woman had just returned to her prickly former self.
She also knew that Saphy did not easily form bonds with the other students, her concerns were not the same as theirs. She knew that Saphy seemed unhappy with life in Cambridge and yet she was still shocked when Saphy had completely dropped out. She had mentioned no such doubts to Jane and Jane had felt a little hurt that her student did not consider her suitably wise or supportive to turn to for advice. She had felt that they had a connection, that under her guidance the smart, brilliant talents of the younger woman could have flourished. Instead, Saphy had just disappeared until that afternoon.
If she had been surprised and disappointed by Saphy's sudden departure, the professor was even more surprised by her former student's reappearance that afternoon, and by the story she had to tell. She had not lied when she had said that it was nice that she was still in Saphy's thoughts. She still hoped that the girl would make something of herself. She hoped that her appearance once more in Jane's office would signal her return to Pembroke, even though she quickly saw that was a false hope. However, even to talk with her on Jane's favourite subject for that one afternoon made her feel good. She was pleased to see Saphy remained interested and sharp, whatever new trouble she was getting into.
She had known Saphy get into more than her fair share of scrapes in Cambridge, but this seemed in a whole different league. A woman was dead and, if Saphy was to be believed, she could prove to be the next target. Jane knew that Saphy felt she could handle herself most of the time, so to ask for help like this she must be pretty worried. To team up with another person was equally unusual for her. Saphy's companion had not at first seemed much to Jane, a pale skinny boy with not a lot of brains, but the professor had begun to suspect that he too had a few hidden depths. However things went, she was pleased that Saphy had this boy tagging along with her. Something, however, was still troubling her and she could not quite put her finger on it.
Deciding to clear her head in the hope of dislodging whatever it was that lurked troublingly at the back of her mind, Jane headed across her living room, as lined with books as her office, and into the bathroom. She turned the taps until they ran warm and flicked the switch to make the warm water run from her shower. She slipped out of her skirt and blouse, leaving them in a messy heap on the floor, and stepped under the running water of the shower.
As she pushed her greying hair back from her face and let the warm water snake through it, dripping down onto her back, Jane felt her anxious mental jumble untangle. Her mind began to clear and she felt able to think a bit more clearly. She relaxed as the shower's waters soothed her aching body, running in streams and rivulets over and around her fleshy curves.