Chapter 1

Don’t look spooky

I diligently took notes in the classroom, and barely looked up at the screen of the presentation that Professor Callahan was giving. I took notes of every word that he had said. That’s how rigorous it was. This was my last lecture of the day and I was determined to cram as much information into my brain as possible because for the life of me I did not want to go over this when I went home. I wanted to relax and maybe watch a rerun of the UEFA cup final. However the rate I was going at this moment I knew there was no chance of me doing any relaxation when I got home.

I had a big research paper waiting for me to tackle, of which I had not even started on, I also had two tutor group papers to do, one on anatomy and one on drug therapy. They were all in a pile and the deadline was looming in front of me. I wondered, briefly why I had left it so late and then I remembered the exams I had had, the extra working hours my boss had given and of course there was my volunteer placement at the hospital, which was not a volunteer thing at all. I was forced to do it, if I wanted to get through this last year of medical school.

I furrowed my eye-brows deep in thought about how to spell encyclopaedia, after writing it about four times and crossing it out because it didn’t look right, I finally wrote it the correct way. Why was I bothering with how to spell the damn word and wasting my time, when I could be soaking up the few sentences of knowledge, because I am such a perfectionist that’s why.

I wondered why I opted not to do normal medicine in a hospital like other normal people, but I had to make things difficult for myself and choose the high-flying world of sports physiotherapy. It’s because it’s exciting and I can make a real difference with my scientific knowledge to people that are immediately noticeable. Basically I just wanted to be known and congratulated on a wide scale for my skills. I also had the drive to because maybe on expert on the subject, if I got lucky. Besides I also had interest in men and football, trust me when I say this was a match made in heaven.

The professor, Callahan, a greying white man, of maybe 50 odd years brought the presentation to an end, but he continued to speak giving little titbits of information, which I of course noted. If anything was going to make me pass this exam it would be notes. The man who was short and plump, closed his laptop and gathered up his papers. His voice finally came to a stop, and I was glad for my fingers had fixed themselves into a weird position and my hands was aching like mad, not mentioning the fact my brain was a little numb too.

Everyone scrambled to the doors, with their bag half-way packed and closed. I was still there and taking my time for I needed to get organised, I was sure Professor Callahan would not object for he usually also stayed behind in the lecture theatre for a few minutes before he left. Probably to gather himself, teaching this subject is pretty difficult.

After organising my stuff, I got up, shouldering my bag and made way down from the lecturing seats and down to the podium. As I was approaching the big red door, “Miss Mohamud, if you give me a moment of your time, please.” I stopped in mid motion and swivelled around convinced that I was in trouble.

I walked towards professor, who was watching me with a bemused expression on his weathered face. Trust him to enjoy my discomfort, there was a long silence as we just looked at each other, he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. I knew it was insolent and rude, and would probably put me in his black list for the next lifetime, but I had to tell him my reasoning first.

“If this is about that late paper, last term, sir, I was sick and…” He started laughing, his baby blue eyes developing a sparkle that I only ever saw when he was lecturing about the ethics of stem cell research. I looked at him confused, why was this funny to him?

“Miss Mohamud.” He finished laughed, “You want to go into the Sports Medicine field, correct.”

I nodded stupidly and gulped a big blob in my throat, that was suspiciously a lot like a sob. Is this where he tells me, I was never going to make into the field?

“You see, when you have been in the world as long as I have you’re bound to make many acquaintances.” I continued to stare as if though he had three heads. Still what has this got to do with the late paper?

He fixed me a steely look, and raised his eyebrows. So I stopped staring at him and replaced with it a neutral look on my face, because my mum has always told me off for starting at people, she tells me that I look creepy when I do it. I was still as puzzled as ever though. “Acquaintances can turn into useful contacts.” He told me, I nodded as if I’d agreed with him and actually knew what he was banging on about.

He sighed, he was trying to tell me something, I know but what? He was probably thinking I was the most stupid person he has ever come across and pondering how I squeezed myself into medical school. Yeah, I pondered about that sometimes too.

“I think you have real potential, perhaps the most potential in this class.” He said, I was blown away it wasn’t everyday that your professor complimented you.

“I have a very good friend, who is a Senior Sports Medic, he is currently working with the Spanish team, and I want you to complete work experience with him in time for the World Cup, so you can get a foothold in the industry, make yourself known. Sports Medicine is very competitive and hard for women to get success in, this will provide you with the leading edge that you need.”

My heart started beating faster and faster through his little speech and my eyes widened a little, but not enough to be spooky, because my mum (again) always tells me I look like a monster when my eyes grow big. I looked at the professor, I really hope he doesn’t want me to sleep with him because this was the opportunity of a lifetime and I’ve heard of tutors doing this to their female students, this was a really big thing and I couldn’t help but think of what he wanted in return.

I’ve been silent for a long time now, I’ve just realised. “You will fly over to Germany, when the team starts training, all expenses will be paid of course and you will also be reimbursed for your time.”

I opened my mouth to say something, “Frankly, I don’t care about what reservations you have because, this is a golden opportunity, you will be going or I will not be accepting you back into my course.” He said the last part with a grin.

See, he did want me too sleep with him, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, my face, I know has paled even though it is biologically possible seeing as my skin is the colour of melted chocolate on a bed of glazed honey peanuts okay so maybe I’m exaggerating, my skin is brown, a normal light brown colour. Still I’m convinced that my face has gone a peculiar shade of something and it isn’t brown.

My lips had gone dry with nerves. “So, sir, I…mean Professor Callahan, what do you want in return?” So maybe asking that was a little rash and rude but sue me, the old pervert did want to sleep with me, or else why would he be offering me this major opportunity of a lifetime?

He started laughing again and this time his face shone like when he was lecturing about bone density and hip replacement operations. Why I had memorised his facial expressions when he was lecturing different subjects was a whole different story all together and a mystery to even myself. I’d like to call myself observant, so therefore it is not weird that I know what he looks like when he‘s discussing angioplasty, it is merely observant.

“No. No, you silly girl.” He said in between his fits of laughter, he snorted once which really surprised me, this was coming from a man who sometimes said ‘excuse me,’ for when he blinked. Hello, talk about being over polite. Although the fact he likes to keep his eyes open for ridiculous long amounts of time should be considered. “I don’t want anything in return from you. My colleague merely owns me a favour, and I’d thought I’d be a philanthropist and help a student, but if you don’t want this offer, I’ll be glad to give it to someone else.” He had resumed his composure and looked somewhat offended now that the initial comical quality of the situation had gone.

I blushed, or think my face turned into another weird looking colour, or my face just felt hot and there was nothing actually showing on the outside. “I’m sorry sir, but I could not grasp the magnitude of the offer, I apologise wholeheartedly for doubting you, sir.” All those years of watching BBC news have paid off, for I could kiss ass in a posh voice. I did not stutter or hesitate and mentally patted myself on the back for this. I held my breath and waited for his response.

Professor Callahan grinned widely, I noticed his full set of straight white pearly teeth. He had a great dentist no doubt, that could work miracles, because no way could a man have a face that weathered and tired and teeth that gleamy and new “So, are you in or are you out? He asked, cocking his head to one side and watching me with wide interest.

My stomach started hurting, as it always does in stressful situations.

I took a deep breath, and ultimately gave him the answer that would change my life, either way.

“So, are you in or are you out? He asked, cocking his head to one side and watching me with wide interest. I stared at him and then remembered about the whole looking freaky thing and stared at the floor. The answer I was about to give would determine my whole future and career as a sports medic. If I say yes, then I could possibly make a name for myself and become successful if I said no, however I would be doomed to a dull career working with aging cricket players or worse just aging people.

“So, hurry up lass, with your answer, I don’t have all day to stand around,” His Scottish accent was showing through, it usually did but it was stronger now.

I took a deep breath. “In, definitely in.” I told the professor.

He smiled and rubbed his hands together. “You’re a smart, lass. I knew you’d see this my way. You leave the day after tomorrow,” He handed me an envelope he produced from his pocket, “Take this to the Spanish coach” I nodded.

“I’ve already arranged everything from, your accommodation to transport to your plane tickets and to your absence from College. You have nothing to worry about, just go pack and relax.” He waved me out.

I was shocked, how did he know I was going accept, was I that transparent? “And for heaven’s sake! Don’t look so constipated, this is the best opportunity you will ever get, make the most of it!” He shouted after me, as I walked out.

What an interesting lecture.

I packed my bags in a slow manner, wanting to delay my departure for as long as possible. I had a bad feeling about this trip and my bad feeling were usually correct in predicating the future. Such as when my belly starts hurting, and by hurting I mean contracting painfully, it’s usually an indication that I’m going vomit violently. I packed my clothes carefully, avoiding any wrinkling of the clothes, I mentally applauded for myself for usually, I’m very careless and absentminded about attention to detail, but this trip was having a weird effect on me.

The last few days had been a flurry of saying goodbye to my friends by having dinner slash drinks slash outing with them and going out shopping for all the necessary items I needed for the trip. Professor Callahan had given me a generous check to cover for the costs, actually I wasn’t sure that he had given me the money.

A morning ago, I had found an envelope addressed to me outside my dorm room door, with curiosity I ha picked it up and pondered over the curly writing, that read my name. I had never seen that handwriting before and was naturally suspicious of it, I wondered briefly if I had an old enemy that I had forgotten about that would lace the envelope with biochemical powder. The enemy would then watch me open the envelope and enjoy themselves a lot as I died a slow death when my body fell into paralysis. Yeah, when my therapists slash teacher slash parents say I had an overactive imagination, they weren’t exaggerating.

So I looked around, and saw no one that resembled an old enemy, so I opened the envelope, not expecting to find a check for £1000 addressed to me. There was a little note, inside the envelope that read: Last-minute necessities. You’d expected me to be even more suspicious right? Wrong, I actually pocketed the check and took it to the bank an hour later. Money was money, come to think about it, I haven’t even thought of who’s paying for all of this, but also coming to think about it, I don’t really care about it. As long as I don’t have sleep with professor Callahan, I’m fine with it!

I finished packing, so I sat on my bed, and took in a deep breath. Which is something I usually did when I was trying to compose myself, taking a deep breath that is not sitting on the bed, because obviously you can’t carry a bed everywhere. I was trying remember if there was anything I had forgotten. I had taken a shower, gotten dressed, make-up was there, I had packed my passport and other ID cards and my credit cards the night before into my handbag, the note that professor Callahan had written to his ‘acquaintance’ was also in my handbag, my ticket was waiting in the airport…that was it. I was ready. I took my three bags and went to wait downstairs for my cab.

I sat down at the reception of he dorm buildings and looked around me. The building was old, perhaps one of the oldest buildings on the campus. It had that tasteful crumbling look to it, that had charmed me when I chose to live here two years ago. I realised with a shock that I would indeed miss the dorms, I had taken the place for granted. I used to think of it as a place to crash only but now is more like home. To come and think of it, I’ve had more good times than bad at the Chaperton Dorms.

Oh look at me, turning on the sentimental waterworks, I was only going to be away from the dorms for about three months. And it wasn’t even as though I was going to the other side of the world. I was going to Germany, which was a mere 2 hours or even less from London.

Another Chapertonian walked past me, probably coming in from a late night clubbing session, the receptionist sent me a conspiratorial wink, she would be ringing the Dean later about that student. King’s college were very serious about their students, even more so when everyone on Chaperton were here on a full scholarships, the students needed to prove their worth and show that money had not been wasted on them.

Margaret the receptionist was an aging woman, she used to be a librarian in her younger years but a messy divorce from her husband had led her to Chaperton to work as the receptionist and supervisor to the students. She lives in a large suite on the campus, she seems more content here than she ever had before. I used to see her working in the library a few years before and she looked about as happy as the dusty books.

She has a strict personality but with the right encouragement can make a very valuable friend. I realised that after getting into too many difficult situations on my first six months at Chaperton. I romanced Margaret with chocolate and presents, she of course caught on the game quickly but she had taking a liking to me and that was the main thing.

Don’t let the deep laugh lines on her face fool you, she is lively woman who, I regularly have midnight snacks with. Weird, I know since she is about 30 years my senior and also the late night factor is a little weird but I always had trouble sleeping and so had she, it was a match made in heaven. We eat junk food to our heart contents,’ drink coffee, yeah I know the coffee does not help the sleep factor but you know as the saying goes: “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” Or in this case make it worse. We also watch films on the portable DVD player she keeps stashed behind the desk and gossip about everything and well everyone.

Weirdly, Margaret and I don’t talk much in the normal daylight hours, I don’t know why but there’s probably something special about baring your soul in the wee hours of the morning. “You cab’s here.” She told me, peering at me over her glasses. I smiled gratefully and gathered up my bags. There was no need to say goodbye, we had already done so early this morning. She had given me a few pearls of wisdom that sounded hilarious when you were on a caffeine high but now sounded like they had come from the great Dalai Lama himself.

I went outside, and took in a deep breath, there was no black cab in the driveway. I looked around, and saw three ordinary cars and a limousine. Maybe they had called me a min cab, the cheapskates, unless it was the limousine. I looked back at Marge through the glass door, I saw her laugh and point towards the stretch limo. So there my cab was.

I take it back, they weren’t cheapskates. They were very rich, who ever they were. I approached the limo, and a the chauffeur came out and opened the door for me, he took my bags and loaded them somewhere in the big vehicle.

I climbed in, smoothing the wrinkles on my fitted white blouse. Looking around, I realised the limousine was even bigger from the inside than it was on the outside. I sat down and spotted a cooler, probably full of drinks. I opened, a rush of cool air blowing at me. It was a hot day today and it was funny how that little action could lift my spirits. I looked at the champagne and the white wine amongst the more adventurous beverages of WKD and Bacardi Breezers. I decided to opt for coke, seeing as I was not a drinker and had never drunk alcohol in my life and was probably never going to.

I looked out of the tinted window, as I pulled on the ring pull of the coke can. And saw my city roll past, it was going to be hard adjusting to a new place, but now I had the confidence to do it.

This morning I was scared beyond belief of leaving, now I actually couldn’t wait for the flight to Germany. How long did it take to get to Heathrow anyway?