SCREAM - THE GHOST OF LONDON

SCREAM VI

The phone rang on the kitchen counter, its shrill tone cutting through the evening quiet. Maddison turned, her curiosity piqued. Nobody ever called the landline. She walked over and saw "Private Number" displayed on the screen. With a sigh, she declined the call and returned to her dinner preparations. The water on the stove was at a rolling boil as she grabbed a packet of pasta. She tore it open with a satisfying rip and slid the pasta onto the chopping board beside the stove. With a quick twist of her wrist, she lowered the heat until the water was just simmering.

Crossing the kitchen, Maddison opened the fridge to gather more ingredients. Her cat, perched on the counter near the sink, let out a soft meow before gracefully leaping to the floor and strolling out of the kitchen. She watched him for a moment, amused by his nonchalant exit through the dark doorway.

She closed the fridge door with a gentle push and set the mince and spices down on the counter. Ready to transfer the pasta from the board to the pot, the phone rang again, cutting through the calm. Maddison glanced back at it, letting out a sigh before walking over and picking up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi. Is this Professor Montgomery?" a man's voice asked, sounding uncertain.

She sighed again, a hint of frustration creeping in. "Yes, it is. And you're calling outside of my work hours."

"Sorry, Professor. I just need some assistance with my upcoming project. My lab partners aren't replying to my phone calls, and I'm stuck."

She glanced at the pot of simmering water, contemplating. "What can I do for you?"

"I, um, need the syllabus for the upcoming coursework. I've misplaced mine, and my classmates aren't responding," he explained, his tone pleading. "Please, Professor, I promise it won't take long."

"Alright, hang on a moment. Let me go to my office," she said, lowering the phone and heading across the kitchen. As she moved through the hallway, she instinctively reached out and flicked the lock for the patio door. Entering her office, she flicked the light switch on and sat down at her desk, opening her laptop with practised ease. "Okay, so you need this semester's syllabus?"

"Yes, Professor," the man replied, relief evident in his voice.

"Okay, one moment," she said, placing the phone down on the desk. Maddison quickly punched in her password, the familiar keys clicking under her fingers. She picked the phone back up and placed it to her ear. "Alright, what's your email address?"

"Oh, actually, I was hoping you could send the copy to my classmate," he said. "Charlie Roberts."

Her brow furrowed. "No, I can't do that. I need your email, or you can pick it up from administration in the morning."

There was a pause before he spoke again. "Or, what if I came and collected it from you in person?"

Maddison's frown deepened as she glanced at the phone, her irritation growing. "That's inappropriate and won't be tolerated. Please provide your email address or arrange to pick it up from the administration. Those are your options."

"I want to get it from you in person," the man's voice insisted, more firmly this time.

Maddison's patience snapped. "No, that's not happening. Either stop calling or give me your email address," she said, her voice rising with frustration. "You're disturbing my evening, and I don't have time for this." She could feel the tension in her shoulders as she waited for his response, hoping he would finally cooperate.

"Professor, please calm down," he said, his tone patronizing.

Maddison stood up from her desk, feeling a surge of irritation. Exiting the office, she walked briskly back into the kitchen. "Please come see me for your paperwork tomorrow in the office. And don't call me again," she said firmly, cutting him off mid-chuckle as she ended the call.