come into and gone from Colossus, but her mind had been elsewhere.
Which could cost her her job, if it came down to the board of directors looking for someone culpable for what was going on...if something was going on. All those hours, days, weeks, months, and years given to this organisation: down the toilet in one hardy flush. She'd be able to get another job somewhere, but it wouldn't be at a place like Colossus, with all of Colossus's potential to do exactly what she so fervently believed needed to be done in England: to make change at a grass-roots level, which was at the level of the individual child's psyche.
Where had it all gone? She'd come into her job at Colossus believing that she could make a difference and she had done just that, right up till the time Griffin Charles Strong had planted his CV on her desk and his mesmerising dark eyes on her face. And even then she'd managed to maintain an air of cool professionalism for months on end, knowing full well the dangers represented by becoming involved with anyone at her place of employment.
Her resolve had weakened over time. Perhaps just to touch him, she'd thought. The gorgeous head of hair, wavy and thick. Or the broad oarsman's shoulders beneath the fisherman's sweater he favoured. Or the lower arm whose wrist was banded by a leather plait. Touching him had eventually become such an obsession that the only way possible to rid herself of the preoccupation with her hand grazing some part of his body was simply to do it. Just reach across the conference table and grasp his wrist to emphasise her agreement with some remark he'd made during a staff meeting and then feel the rush of surprise when he briefly closed his other hand over hers and squeezed. She told herself it was merely a sign that he appreciated her support of his ideas. Except there were signs...and then there were signs.
She said to Robbie Kilfoyle, "When you're finished here, make sure the doors are locked, won't you?"
"Will do," he said, and she felt his gaze fixed on her speculatively as she returned to her office.
There, she went to the filing cabinet. She squatted in front of the bottom drawer that she'd opened before, in the presence of the detectives. She fingered through the manila folders and brought out the one she needed, which she shoved into the canvas book bag she used as a briefcase. That done, she grabbed up her bicycle clothing and went to change for the long ride home.
She did her changing in the ladies' toilet, taking her time and all the while listening for the hopeful sounds of Griff Strong and the assessment kids returning from the river. But the only thing she heard was Robbie Kilfoyle leaving, and then she herself was alone at Colossus.
She couldn't risk Griff's mobile this time round, not when she knew he was with a group. There was nothing left but to write him a note. Rather than deposit it on his desk, however, where he could use the excuse of not having seen it, she took it outside to the carpark and shoved it beneath the windscreen wiper of his vehicle. On the driver's side. She even took a piece of Sellotape to make sure the note didn't blow away. Then she went for her bike, unlocked it, and headed for St. George's Road, the first part of the crisscrossing route that would take her from Elephant and Castle up to Paddington.
The ride took her nearly an hour in the bitter cold. Her mask prevented her from breathing the worst of the traffic fumes, but there was nothing to protect her from the constant noise. She reached Gloucester Terrace more exhausted than usual, but at least grateful that the ride itself-and the need to be on guard against traffic-had kept her mind occupied.
She chained her bicycle to the railing in front of number 258, where she unlocked the front door to the usual cooking smells emanating from the ground-floor flat. Cumin, sesame oil, fish. Overcooked sprouts. Rotting onions. She held her breath and went for the stairs. She was up five of them when behind her, the front-door buzzer sounded sharply. The door had a rectangle of glass on top, and through it she saw the shape of his head. She descended quickly.
"I rang your mobile." Griff sounded irritated. "Why didn't you answer? Fuck it, Ulrike. If you're going