There were no attacks for the next three nights. He put it down to the fact that Rob had reassured him, perhaps even that meeting Rob again had helped him draw a psychological line under his own need to torment himself, under his guilt.
She came again on the fourth night though, and for several nights after that, episodes so disturbing that he had trouble shaking them off during the daylight hours. He was reduced to a state of constant half-sleep, his appearance worrying enough that Ruth couldn’t bring herself to joke about it.
On the morning after the third attack she seemed subdued, not in the mood to talk much about anything, occasional looks of concern in his direction as they drank their coffee. He was happy when she left for home, leaving him to go through the backlog of mail that had piled up over the last couple of days.
He’d almost finished when the phone rang, the departmental secretary at the other end.
‘Hello, Dr Stratton. I was checking you were still here; there’s someone to see you.’
‘I’m not seeing students at the moment, Margaret.’
‘No, it’s personal business. William Shaw.’
Alex’s heart kicked out an extra beat and he said, ‘Did you say it’s about William Shaw?’
‘No, it’s William Shaw here to see you. Shall I send him round?’
‘Yes. Thank you Margaret.’ He put the phone down, struggling to focus his mind, the thoughts running away from him before he could latch onto them. Will was dead, that was the only thing he could fix upon. There was a knock on the door and he said, ‘Come in!’
His head began to clear then as a man in his fifties walked into the room, wearing a suit, a smart overcoat. Alex stood up, feeling unsteady. The man’s hair was silver, something slightly different about his face too, but even so, Alex understood now, that this was Will’s father.
Mr Shaw smiled a little and said, ‘I do apologize for dropping in unannounced like this, Dr Stratton. I was visiting the university and I knew you worked here, and that you knew Will. I hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty?’
Alex shook his head, saying, ‘I’m sorry about your son, Mr Shaw.’
He took a deep breath, relieved as he said, ‘Oh, you know about it; that’s something of a weight off. And thank you.’
Alex’s thoughts were still garbled but in a different direction now. He didn’t know how to deal with the man standing in front of him, based on what little he knew of him, what Will had thought of him. He was uneasy too about what might have brought him here.
‘Sorry, please take a seat. Would you like a coffee, or tea?’
‘No, thank you.’ Alex had gestured towards the easy chairs but Mr Shaw sat in the chair on the other side of the desk so the two of them were facing each other as if in a formal interview.
Mr Shaw looked forlorn but dignified and Alex had to remind himself that this was a man who’d helped to destroy his own son, not intentionally perhaps, but that made it no less a cruelty. Most, if not all of Will’s weaknesses had been caused by this man and yet he probably had no idea.
‘So what can I do for you?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry. I’m on my way north and took the opportunity of calling in to see Dr Holborn in the Politics Department. I’m setting up a scholarship in Will’s name, to pay for someone each year to study a Master’s Degree.’ Alex began to feel queasy, partly because his memory of Will’s relationship with his family was still coming back to him as Mr Shaw spoke, partly just because of the hollowness of what the man was talking about. Alex made a show of looking puzzled and Mr Shaw responded by saying, ‘Of course. I wanted to let you know about his overdose. I didn’t know whether any of his friends knew. I didn’t know even to what extent he was still in touch with all of you.’
‘We’d drifted apart,’ said Alex.
Mr Shaw nodded.
‘I also wanted to ask your opinion, if you thought there might be some more fitting memorial to Will’s life.’
Alex felt angry, as though he was being asked to condone the payment of blood money.
‘I don’t know Mr Shaw, how do you remember the life of someone whose spirit was crushed?’ He looked stunned by the response and Alex immediately regretted saying it, criticizing a man who, for all his faults, had lost a son just a few weeks before. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I think the scholarship is a great idea. He loved his subject.’
Mr Shaw gave a polite smile and said, ‘I admire your loyalty to your friend, and you’re quite right of course, painful as it is to hear.’ Alex tried to apologize again but Mr Shaw stopped him with a small gesture of the hand. He took a deep breath then, as if composing himself, and said, ‘I don’t know whether you ever knew, but Will was older than his brother and sisters by some five years.’