I v

At five to ten a man appeared. Jane immediately doubted that this was her client as he seemed to be walking very purposively; normally people visiting her for the first time could be seen peering at the door numbers as they first entered the square. Even if they’d lived their entire life in Edinburgh no-one seemed to know anything about this place and certainly wouldn’t know where to find an obscure business like theirs. This man, in his early forties she guessed, was either passing straight through or knew exactly where he was going. It was beyond the normal time to be starting work but it seemed probable that he would go directly into one of the doors further down the street.
She looked back past him to a cyclist making his way across the opposite side – one of those local couriers she supposed – the reflection of a yellow fluorescent jacket shining briefly in a puddle. And then she suddenly realised that the man she’d expected to dart into a doorway was still coming straight towards her.
She was just stealing herself to start making her usual brief observational assessment from above when, still without really paying much attention, he turned and trotted up the steps to the building next door. Thwarted, Jane again focused on the distant entrance to the square, but then before she had realised what was happening, the man was back out on the street and after looking straight up at her in her window, was at the door below and the bell was ringing.
It was as though, she thought, he’d mistaken which of the two doors led to her window.
Down below she could just make out Pauline doing the greetings. She tried to remember what she had seen of him, but nothing came to mind. She had been so certain that this man wasn’t Kevin Chamberlain that nothing had stuck with her apart from that brief impression of his age – which told her nothing she didn’t know from the notes.
Under Andrew’s instruction it had become the custom of the firm for the psychologist to go down to greet the client. In the normal circumstance, the bread and butter career consultancy, it was a gesture that helped establish a friendly rapport. Jane wasn’t sure it was so appropriate in these court referral cases; the feel-good factor wasn’t important when all she was being asked to do was an assessment to be used by someone else other than the person she was talking to. Andrew might want his executives to go back to their employers and tell stories of what a pleasant experience they’d been through, but it really didn’t matter if the likes of Kevin Chamberlain went away feeling warm and fuzzy. In fact she really hoped he wouldn’t.
She hovered at the top of the staircase. Pauline had ushered the man into the waiting room and would be offering him a cup of tea. And then, although the voices were muffled Jane thought she heard him say:
‘…I’ll just go straight up…
in a tone that suggested he’d been there before. She couldn’t hear Pauline’s response, but the idea that this wasn’t who she was waiting for re-established itself. It must be someone for Andrew: a golfing crony probably.
Back into her room, back to the window. Five past ten. No-one in sight. He wasn’t coming. The drizzle started again.
Pauline knocked on the door and came in.
‘That’s Mr Chamberlain downstairs for you.’
Jane felt an unexpected jolt of adrenaline, suddenly feeling very nervous, very under-prepared.
‘I didn’t see him come in!’
Pauline paused, apparently not sure how to respond.
‘He just arrived. On foot.’