Chapter twenty-four

December

Cape Town

"Miss Pavlova, please have a seat."

Irina glanced around Professor Cloete's office as she walked from the door to the desk. The professor seemed quite a character; a shock of wild red hair, glasses sitting lopsided across the bridge of her nose, and a green velvet blazer that had seen better days. Irina smiled warmly as she sat down, deciding that she liked this eccentric woman.

"So you're from Russia. Whereabouts exactly – uh, can I call you Sonya?" She peered at Irina over the top of her glasses.

"Yes. I'm from Leningrad – St. Petersburg."

"St. Petersburg!" The professor's grin widened and she leaned back in her chair. "Dostoevsky."

Irina nodded.

"I just love Russian literature." She removed her glasses and looked at Irina. "I think you'll be a great asset in our English department."

Irina blinked in surprise. "But the interview hasn't even begun."

Professor Cloete shrugged. "I have a sense about people. Besides," she winked conspiratorially, "I've been dying to have a course on Russian lit for years now. You're a Godsend."

Irina had the feeling that she was going to enjoy working with this woman. "How do you know I'm not a KGB spy?"

Professor Cloete roared with laughter. "No offense, but you don't look like one. Now, you're going to have to call me Daphne. I hate formality."

"Okay, Daphne."

She extended her hand. "Welcome to the University of Cape Town. Time for a tour." She stood and beckoned for Irina to follow her.

"Okay, this is the staffroom. The chairs are uncomfortable and during the semester there's a constant cloud of smoke hanging in the air. Charming atmosphere." She rolled her eyes.

Irina smiled and followed Daphne down the hall.

"We'll find an office for you somewhere, hopefully before the semester actually starts. And the library's this way . . ."

It took more than an hour for Daphne to show Irina around, and by the time she returned to the car, she was feeling a lot better about her decision to apply for the job. It would be nice to teach again, to have some structure to her days. When she'd mentioned the idea to Andrei, he'd asked if she wanted to move closer to the school, but she wasn't ready for that much of a change. Baby steps, she thought.

As she thought of Daphne's desire to have a Russian literature course, she grew more excited. It would be nice to read the books in their original form again.

Instead of returning straight home, Irina decided to drive around town for a while. She found herself back at the flea market she had visited with Jack. Mid-week, it was emptier than it had been that day, and Irina slowly strolled up and down the aisles. It was a warm afternoon, but Irina had developed the habit of wearing long-sleeved shirts whenever she left the house. She was still too self-conscious about the scars on her wrists; there was no way she could explain them without remembering what had caused them. It was not quite a case of out of sight, out of mind, but at least this way no one else could see them.

"Fruit, madam!" An old coloured woman called out as she passed and Irina slowed her step as the scent of fresh fruit caught her nostrils. She studied the display before pointing at the papaya.

"How much are these?"

"For you, madam, special price. Eight rand for one."

Irina returned to the car carrying a box of fruit, pleased at how well this day had turned out.

Los Angeles

"Bye, Daddy!" Sydney leaned across the front of the car and kissed Jack.

"Bye, sweetheart. I'll pick you up after the lesson. Stay warm."

Sydney zipped up her sweater and ran from the car to the ballet studio. At the door, she turned and waved before disappearing inside. Jack started the engine and drove back to work.

"The Director wants to see you," Arvin said when Jack arrived.

Jack nodded and changed direction, heading for the elevator. Once he reached the Director's office, he knocked on the door and received a curt, "Enter!"

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, have a seat. I was just wondering at the progress of Project Christmas."

Jack nodded; he'd been prepared for this question for a while now. "I've just finished with all the preliminary testing. We're scheduled to begin in January."

The Director smiled. "Good. Did you still have any issues about putting your daughter in the program?"

"I'm still not a hundred percent happy about it, but if you're right – If Derevko had started programming Sydney, then this is the only way I can undo that."

The Director leaned forward, affecting a mask of sympathy. "And how are you doing, Jack? This last year can't have been easy for you."

"It hasn't been," Jack agreed cautiously, "but Sydney and I are moving on."

"That's good to hear, Jack." He straightened. "I'll expect an update on the project as soon as you have something."

Recognizing the dismissal, Jack nodded and stood. "Thank you, sir."

He returned to the bullpen and sat at his desk, idly paging through reports on Project Christmas as he tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

An hour later, the feeling was still there as he left the office to pick up Sydney, but he told himself it meant nothing. Dealing with the Director always left him feeling ill at ease.

He waited outside the studio for fifteen minutes, then got out the car and walked up the path just as Sydney's teacher was locking the front doors.

"Excuse me, Miss Taylor, where's Sydney?"

Anna Taylor looked up at Jack, and frowned. "Mr. Bristow, Sydney wasn't at class today."

"What are you talking about? I dropped her off myself."

Anna shook her head. "She wasn't in class."

"I watched her come inside!" The uneasiness grew into full-blown panic.

Anna unlocked the doors and motioned for Jack to follow her inside. "She may have got stuck in one of the bathroom cubicles, though I'm sure someone would have heard her. I can't think of anywhere else she could be."

The bathroom was empty but for Sydney's sweater lying crumpled on the floor.