Chapter One

The Application

       At 19 the world seems to be at one’s feet, waiting to blossom with all sorts of wonderful things.

       My father and mother were divorced and wanted few entanglements with grown children still going to school, but they had been thoughtful enough to provide an apartment for me, even though I was attending one of the local colleges only on a haphazard basis. They’d combined forces, for once, to provide me with a monthly allowance over and above the apartment rental, so I only had to worry about preparing meals and finding things to hold my attention.

       One day while sunning on the balcony, leafing through one of the up-market women’s magazines that seemed to have sprouted roots in the apartment, despite the maid’s efforts to keep it neat and clean, I came across a discrete advertisement near the back. In elegant script it stated that “excellent pay” was being offered for a five year, foreign service position, provided the applicant passed rigorous intelligence, appearance, and aptitude tests. For some reason it caught my eye while passing over the usual drivel, and knowing that I was far from stupid and had some modicum of culture, I penned a long and thoughtful handwritten reply to the impeccable Vancouver address, as was requested. I had becomereally bored with how things were going now that I was out in the big wide world all by myself, and thought that this might be just the thing to alleviate my growing ennui.

       The allowance that mother and father provided was pretty good by most people’s standards, but I always seemed to end up short of money after the second week of the month, then had to take it easy until the next cheque arrived. Later in the afternoon, a little uncomfortable from a mild sunburn and bored with sitting around the apartment, I walked down to the Granville Street post office and mailed it off. I promptly forgot about the letter I’d sent when my latest date, a handsome young law student named Jason, called and asked if I’d be interested in going to a hot new club downtown, later that evening.

       Three weeks passed and I became more and more bored with a pointless life, until one afternoon the large gold-embossed envelope that would forever change my life arrived. Having forgotten completely about the application, I took it back to the apartment along with the usual selection of junk mail and then, like a little kid, opened all the other correspondence first. I sat at the glass and polished brass table staring thoughtfully at the enigmatic envelope propped against the flower vase centrepiece, wondering just what it contained. There wasn’t a return address on it, only a postmark indicating that it had been mailed from in-town. Finally, I reached out and opened it with the silver letter opener.

       The beautiful, flowing script of the handwritten note informed me that I was one of a select group of young women requested to appear at an exclusive downtown hotel for an interview, three days hence. It advised me that a limo would be sent to pick me up and it would return me to my apartment after the interview was concluded. In addition, the note requested that I dress appropriately.

       The arrival of the note in the prestigious envelope aroused my curiosity, challenging me to do something that would be entirely different from my humdrum existence and that evening while watching some mindless fluff on TV, I mulled over what I would need to buy in the way of clothing and accessories, to really knock the socks off whoever was doing the interview. Right then, I began to plan my next two days for shopping, hair appointments, a manicure, facial, and the myriad of other small details that would complete my image of sophistication. Finally, I went to bed that night with a purpose, even if only for the next three days or so.

       Strangely, during the past two weeks and on a number of occasions, I’d gotten the haunting feeling one gets when being inspected or stared at and a lot of the time, even during the day, I had the sensation that I was being followed. I could never catch anyone at it, try though I might to surprise them at their observances.

       I spent the next 48 hours shopping for just the right clothes and shoes and completing my other appointments, then on the third day, took all morning preparing myself for my appointment with destiny, as I jokingly thought of it. How prophetic those thoughts were, I hadno idea.

       When the interphone buzzed, I checked th