Читать книгу Class of '79 - Chris Rooke - Страница 28

I tried the main doors, but they were locked and there was no sign of a concierge or anyone else around to help me get in. I stood there for a while, with my head completely fuzzy from the drive, the lack of sleep and the drugs, not knowing what on earth to do next, when I saw someone go into the building through a small door on the side.

I lumbered forward, in a bit of a haze, and tried the door - it was open! Once inside I found myself in a stairwell, but with no idea of where to go. I started to climb the stairs and saw a cleaner, and so I mumbled ‘Hello’. I think she nearly had a heart attack as she hadn’t heard me come up behind her, and when she did see me, I know I must have looked quite a sight!

She asked me what I was doing there and I replied that I was looking for my friend, Gazza, and had she seen him? She said she didn’t know anyone by the name of ‘Gazza’ and couldn’t help me, and shot off down the corridor. I wasn’t sure what to do and stood there for a while, peering through locked doors that led into carpeted corridors off the stairwell.

Not long after this the cleaner reappeared with another woman, who asked me in a rather abrupt manner what I was doing there and how had I got in. I did my usual mumbled reply saying that I was looking for Gazza, but I wasn’t sure what flat he was in, and that I’d entered through an unlocked door. She replied officiously that she didn’t know anyone called Gazza, but that they certainly weren’t in this block, as this was the girls’ block, and that I should get out – now! Oops!

I did as I was bade, and she followed me back down the stairs, shutting and locking the exterior door behind me. A warm welcome indeed! I wandered off towards the adjoining block, which I assumed must house the male students, and loitered around for a while, looking to find a way in, but couldn’t. Eventually, however, some students began to emerge and I asked them if any of them knew my friend Gazza. By pure good fortune, I eventually spoke to someone who did know Gazza, and was able to give me entrance to the building and direct me to his flat.

The blocks were all sub-divided into small flats, housing about 6 or 8 students, each with its own kitchen/dining area, and Gazza’s was up on the third floor. Luckily someone in the flat was up and I was able to gain access and find Gazza’s room. After knocking for a while, I was greeted at the door by a very sleepy friend who did a double take when they found it was me at the door, before giving me a great and excited welcome and bidding me enter.

Although I was obviously a bit burned out (to say the least) he then took me for breakfast in a café and then proudly showed me round the Leeds Uni. campus. I have to say that this didn’t really serve to lift my general mood, as it was so vastly superior to what we had down in Portsmouth - a proper university! In some ways seeing Gazza was making me feel worse, not better.

After that, we went back to his flat, and were sitting in the kitchen/dining area, when the cleaners entered. They were welcomed as part of the family and were obviously well known to all the students, including Gazza, and were very chatty, and they were eager to give us all the latest gossip. The really big news of the day was that a potential rapist had recently been apprehended trying to break into one of the girls’ flats next door! He was apparently some kind of low-life, who looked dirty and desperate and had tried to trick his way in. Luckily, however, he had been scared off by the courageous cleaning staff, despite being aggressive and possibly carrying a knife! Security had been called, but the suspect had vanished before they arrived. A general alarm had been sounded in the block and there was apparently great consternation amongst the girls who lived there

Now, I know that I was a bit naïve and innocent, but it was only towards the end of this story that the awful truth dawned on me – I was of course the person they were talking about! By the time the cleaners told it, it had been embellished about 100 times and bits added on etc. and that’s why it had taken so long for me to cotton on. I was stunned: I was the person that they were now talking about? - an evil looking knife-carrying intruder and possible rapist, with lank hair and incoherent speech, who was almost certainly also a serial killer!?

I blurted out that it was possibly me that they were talking about, and that my actions and intentions had been completely innocent. At first they refused to believe it, such was the description they had been given of the perpetrator, but I went on to explain what had really happened, and that it was all just a genuine mistake. The two cleaners were a bit deflated as this had been the hottest story to gossip about in months, and they had clearly been looking forward to telling it to all the various students in the flats they cleaned, probably adding a little more relish each time it was told. However, after a while they perked up a bit as I think that they realised that would now be able to go round to all their fellow cleaners and tell them the truth of what had actually happened – a truth that they had been able to glean as a result of meeting the dangerous stalker himself, face-to-face! Theirs would be the definitive story and that would give them some Kudos.