impossible.
Lily had the bad habit of fiddling with all her father’s electronic devices and, on this occasion, she had changed his phone’s ringtone to a song by a famous folk group. James had tried to switch it back many times and in so many ways, but although he had a flair for the arts, he was a true dunce when it came to electronics. He knew how to switch on a computer and then… switch it back off again.
The music sounded again.
It’s bound to be some professor moaning about the behavior of some student. I’ll show them who is in charge - now is not the time!
He jumped up, not knowing what annoyed him more: the fact that somebody had the clever idea of calling him at two in the morning, or having to get out of bed to answer the phone he had left inside his coat pocket. “Hello. Who is this?”
“Good evening. Is this James Oldrich?” A loud, gruff voice spoke on the other end of the phone, his speech punctuated by short pauses of breath taken to drag on a cigarette. “My name is Alfred Hilton. You must be wondering why I’ve disturbed you at this time in the morning”. There was a short silence as the caller exhaled deeply. “Well, I am the attorney for Gerald, your opponent for the university seat. From what I gather, these have not been pleasant days for you. I mean, all that business with your wife.”
James instantly understood the poisonous message and clenched his fist with rage. “I daresay your call will be extremely quick if you carry on down that route, Mr. Hilton”.
James knew perfectly well that his wife had been investigated by Gerald’s henchmen for the entire campaign and he was sure that it had all been an ambush designed to drag his name through the mud.
“Don’t be so arrogant, Mr. Oldrich. Perhaps we underestimated you when we thought that some mere photographs of your wife sleeping with another man would destroy you. In all honesty, I can tell you that we got it wrong. Anyway,” he continued as he had one last drag on his cigarette, “now we’ve put it right. Don’t go to work on Wednesday - it’s for your own good.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I am giving you advice. Gerald has some very influential friends who want him to lead the university at whatever cost. I would bear that in mind if I were you.”
“That doesn’t worry me. Goodnight.”
Without delay, he hung up and switched off the phone. His body was nervous, tense, just like his right fist, completely rigid. He lay back down on the bed and covered himself again with the blankets while he closed his eyes and repeated in his head over and over: Keep calm James, they’re just trying to intimidate you.
Chapter 2
A t last it was morning. The sun’s rays filtered through the slats in the shutters, projecting a beam of light across the room to the foot of the bed. It was all a nightmare, he reflected, stretching his body until he felt that light and pleasant morning sensation of relief, but he quickly realized that he was still in that old house and his body trembled with rage again when he remembered what had happened. He could not think about giving in, everything had been done. He had a few days to enjoy himself and relax; nobody would succeed in ruining that. For the moment, he was thinking about visiting what he had so admired as a child and what had channeled his life towards a new and marvelous understanding of art: Michelangelo’s David.
The old house was situated in a clearing next to a river, and was surrounded by a big wooden fence that restricted outside access. It was very airy, and the light managed to penetrate the deepest corner of the house thanks to its enormous windows. It was a two-storey house, with dark wooden floorboards that had cracked and rotten with the passage of time, and which creaked lightly with any human steps. The living room had been remodeled; two black leather sofas together with a huge oak table occupied virtually all the space. At either side of the front
Lily had the bad habit of fiddling with all her father’s electronic devices and, on this occasion, she had changed his phone’s ringtone to a song by a famous folk group. James had tried to switch it back many times and in so many ways, but although he had a flair for the arts, he was a true dunce when it came to electronics. He knew how to switch on a computer and then… switch it back off again.
The music sounded again.
It’s bound to be some professor moaning about the behavior of some student. I’ll show them who is in charge - now is not the time!
He jumped up, not knowing what annoyed him more: the fact that somebody had the clever idea of calling him at two in the morning, or having to get out of bed to answer the phone he had left inside his coat pocket. “Hello. Who is this?”
“Good evening. Is this James Oldrich?” A loud, gruff voice spoke on the other end of the phone, his speech punctuated by short pauses of breath taken to drag on a cigarette. “My name is Alfred Hilton. You must be wondering why I’ve disturbed you at this time in the morning”. There was a short silence as the caller exhaled deeply. “Well, I am the attorney for Gerald, your opponent for the university seat. From what I gather, these have not been pleasant days for you. I mean, all that business with your wife.”
James instantly understood the poisonous message and clenched his fist with rage. “I daresay your call will be extremely quick if you carry on down that route, Mr. Hilton”.
James knew perfectly well that his wife had been investigated by Gerald’s henchmen for the entire campaign and he was sure that it had all been an ambush designed to drag his name through the mud.
“Don’t be so arrogant, Mr. Oldrich. Perhaps we underestimated you when we thought that some mere photographs of your wife sleeping with another man would destroy you. In all honesty, I can tell you that we got it wrong. Anyway,” he continued as he had one last drag on his cigarette, “now we’ve put it right. Don’t go to work on Wednesday - it’s for your own good.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I am giving you advice. Gerald has some very influential friends who want him to lead the university at whatever cost. I would bear that in mind if I were you.”
“That doesn’t worry me. Goodnight.”
Without delay, he hung up and switched off the phone. His body was nervous, tense, just like his right fist, completely rigid. He lay back down on the bed and covered himself again with the blankets while he closed his eyes and repeated in his head over and over: Keep calm James, they’re just trying to intimidate you.
Chapter 2
A t last it was morning. The sun’s rays filtered through the slats in the shutters, projecting a beam of light across the room to the foot of the bed. It was all a nightmare, he reflected, stretching his body until he felt that light and pleasant morning sensation of relief, but he quickly realized that he was still in that old house and his body trembled with rage again when he remembered what had happened. He could not think about giving in, everything had been done. He had a few days to enjoy himself and relax; nobody would succeed in ruining that. For the moment, he was thinking about visiting what he had so admired as a child and what had channeled his life towards a new and marvelous understanding of art: Michelangelo’s David.
The old house was situated in a clearing next to a river, and was surrounded by a big wooden fence that restricted outside access. It was very airy, and the light managed to penetrate the deepest corner of the house thanks to its enormous windows. It was a two-storey house, with dark wooden floorboards that had cracked and rotten with the passage of time, and which creaked lightly with any human steps. The living room had been remodeled; two black leather sofas together with a huge oak table occupied virtually all the space. At either side of the front
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