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uld play along I decided.
    ‘Well nearly, I am leaving shall we say.’
    ‘Oh really, when?’
    ‘Tonight, I assume. Although I suspect you may know more about this than I do?’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Is that not why you’re here?’
    ‘Err no, I came for my brolly,’ he said waving it at me again.
    ‘Ok Peter. I’ll make it easy for you. Where do we have to go? Don’t worry , I will play along and act surprised.’
    He looked baffled, taking things a bit far I thought.
    ‘Go?’ he said.
    ‘Yes, the party?’
    ‘What party?’
    ‘That’s what I said,’ the janitor who had been watching this exchange chipped in.
    ‘My leaving party.’
    ‘Oh, I see,’ said Peter. ‘Sorry I didn’t realise, I wasn’t invited.’
    ‘Is that not why you are here?’
    ‘Err no, like I said I came for my brolley,’ he waved it at me yet again.
    ‘Peter I am confused, if you are not here to get me where am I supposed to go?’
    ‘I don’t know. Who organised it?’
    ‘I have no idea it’s a surprise I assume.’
    ‘Well “normally” the person organising it would ensure that you end up in the correct place but unawares so to speak.’
    ‘Who would be that person?’ I asked.
    ‘Well anyone really, whoever cared enough or could be bothered to sort something out.’
    ‘Could be bothered?’
    ‘Err yes. Look I have to go, my girlfriends in the car and we have theatre tickets.’
    ‘Right, yes. Of course….’
    ‘I am sure they will come along soon,’ he offered.
    ‘Yes, yes. I am too.’
    As he left the realisation dawned on me that there was no party.
    I went back into my office checked my email inbox to see if there was any indication that I had missed an invitation, it was empty except for some more automated responses to the emails I had sent with my resume. Not a single farewell message from a colleague or student, I was unsure whether to feel annoyed or relieved at this.
    Simply rise above it as they say, I told myself. Their loss I decided.
    I noticed there was another email that was not automated. Maybe this was it, the job offer I had been waiting for?
     
    Hi Marcus,
    Hank here. Just wanted to let you know that your email was forwarded to me on my IPhone. We are all still here enjoying the attractions of Egypt! Your guidance was really appreciated by my students. Take care. Speak soon? H
     
    Hank was someone I had met in Egypt, an American from some small back water college in Texas which had stumped up the cash to send 20 students to Cairo to “study the pyramids” or some other half soaked objective.  Neither they nor Hank had any idea what they were doing or even what they were looking at. They did however excel at getting in the way, so in frustration I had given them some simple pointers which they had absorbed as if I was revealing the inner most secrets of a newly discovered tomb.
    That night I went to bed and turned out the light as I lay there in darkness I began to contemplate my situation. Everything I knew was changing and I felt helpless, an emotion which quickly turned to anger. Not just at the injustice of my situation but also at myself for resorting to feeling like a victim. I was more than a victim; I was a highly qualified academic with a bright if not “glittering” career ahead of me regardless of the short sightedness of Robert and his cronies. This was simply a bump in the road, a transition period which although uncomfortable would be short lived I told myself.
    I looked around my bedroom and was able to make out the familiar shapes of my furniture in the moonlight. I imagined that Henrietta Street would probably have the same effect from the ambient light emitted by the street lamps. I had to admit despite my bravado I would miss this place, not just my apartment but Luci, which despite everything still felt like my home.
    Anyway, I told myself. At least when this is all over I will have a story to tell at faculty dinners. I felt a dampness on my face, sitting up I turned