Ken McClure: Hypocrite's Isle

‘I’ve just been down in the cell culture suite. They tell me Frank’s grants have been suspended?’

‘Frank and I had a long conversation last night,’ said Sutcliffe, ignoring what Gavin had said. ‘There was a meeting up at Old College. Understandably, he’s very upset over what happened to Mary and Tom, and the faculty wanted to do anything they could to help. Frank will be taking some time off to rest and recover. He’s been granted six months’ leave of absence, effective immediately. I understand he and Jenny plan to visit relatives in Australia.’

‘Australia?’ exclaimed Gavin. ‘Six months?’

‘What with his lab being out of action and everything else that’s gone on, it seems like the right time. That is why I took the step of suspending the use of his grants this morning. Everything is going into suspended animation, as it were.’

Gavin sat, wide-eyed and speechless.

‘And you, of course, are wondering where this leaves you...’

I have to finish off the experiments for the paper we’re about to submit,’ said Gavin, feeling totally disorientated. ‘I need more cell cultures...’

‘There’s no question of you carrying out unsupervised research,’ said Sutcliffe, pausing to let the words sink in. ‘Frank, of course, expressed concern for your immediate future, and I have made preliminary enquiries about the possibility of an alternative supervisor for you. Jack Martin — very kindly I thought in the circumstances — would be agreeable to taking you on... but on the clear understanding that you would work on one of his projects. It wouldn’t be too late to change; you’ve only been here six months, and I’m sure the first-year review committee would take that into consideration when the time came for your first-year assessment.’

‘I need to finish off the Valdevan work,’ said Gavin. ‘It won’t take long and it won’t be expensive.’

‘I’m afraid that is out of the question.’

The words hit Gavin like a death sentence. The curtain had fallen, and he hadn’t even heard the fat lady sing. It was over. Game, set and match to Sutcliffe. The anger and impotence he felt made him get up from his chair and leave the room without saying another word.

‘Let me know your decision,’ said Sutcliffe pleasantly to his back.

‘All right?’ asked Liz as he passed.

‘Bastard,’ murmured Gavin.

He had to speak to Frank, was his one thought as he hurried along the corridor to the lab. What the hell was he playing at? Two technicians from the computing support group were coming out of the lab as he arrived. ‘Problems?’ he asked.

‘No, everything’s fine,’ said one.

Gavin sat down on Simmons’ chair in his office and called his home number. Jenny answered.

‘Jenny? It’s Gavin Donnelly. I need to speak to Frank.’

‘I’m sorry, Gavin. Frank needs a few days away from everything to do with the lab. I really don’t want anyone bothering him.’

‘It’s important.’

‘So is his health.’

‘Yes, sorry, of course. Maybe I could come and see him in a couple of days’ time? There’s quite a lot we have to sort out.’

‘I’m sure.’

Gavin’s head was spinning. What on earth was Frank thinking of, going away for six months when they were so close to finishing the Valdevan work? He desperately needed something to cling to, and right now, anything would do. He tried building a raft with positives. He had the drugs safely at home in the flat; he had a copy of Frank’s first draft of the paper, and he had all his notes containing the raw data. He saw that it would be more convenient to have electronic versions of both, so they could be transferred more easily, so he turned on Frank’s computer to make copies from the hard drive to disk. But as he did so, his blood ran cold, and he suddenly realised why the computer technicians had been in the lab. He had the confirmation in front of him. The hard drive on Frank Simmons’ computer had been wiped clean. The master copy of the paper had been deleted. He rushed out into the lab to check the other computers. All the hard drives had been wiped.

For the very first time in dealing with opposition to his work, Gavin felt fear enter the equation. Anger and frustration were no longer his leading emotions. The opposition were winning, and he felt powerless to do anything. At that particular moment, there was no record anywhere in the department of the work he’d done on Valdevan, and when he turned down Jack Martin’s offer of an alternative PhD project — as they must know he would — Sutcliffe would have the MRC cancel his grant, resulting in there being no record of him either. Gavin Donnelly would be a soon-to-be-forgotten name who had once spent six months in the department before giving up and leaving. You had to respect opposition like that.

It was less than an hour since he’d given Trish a lecture about not looking back. Now he found himself having to heed his own advice. He had to move on. It was no longer going to be possible for him to finish the repeat experimental work: the paper would have to go off and take its chances with what data they had. The first thing to do would be to type the text into his laptop from the hard copy he had, and then update all the data. When that was done, he would need Frank to write a covering letter. It was essential that the paper be submitted with a statement giving the origin of the work as Edinburgh University and signed by a senior member of the academic staff. If he tried to submit on his own, Sutcliffe would disown both him and the research. With that clear in his head, the top of the agenda now was Valdevan. What was bad news for experimental work was good news for Caroline’s mother.

Gavin locked the lab door from the inside before opening his rucksack and moving quickly round the lab, collecting bits and pieces he might need: sterilising filters, syringes of assorted capacity and needles to fit, a few bottles of sterile distilled water and a couple of sterile beakers. He returned to Frank Simmons’ office to check the second-year medical students’ lecture schedule for that day, and found that Caroline would finish at 4 p.m. He was waiting for her when she emerged from the lecture theatre.

The other students seemed chatty and animated, but Caroline, when she appeared, seemed alone and preoccupied. She smiled wanly when she saw Gavin and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I wasn’t at all sure if I’d see you today.’

‘Let’s get some coffee.’

They made their way round to the student union.

‘Frank’s going to Australia,’ said Gavin as they sat down with their coffee.

‘What?’ said Caroline.

‘For six months.’

Caroline looked incredulous. ‘Why?’

‘I haven’t been able to ask him that. Apparently, he’s been taking what happened pretty badly.’

‘Understandable, I suppose — but Australia for six months? What’s going to happen to you and your research?’

‘We’ll have to send off what data we have and hope for the best,’ said Gavin. ‘Jenny says I’ll be able to talk to Frank in a couple of days or so, and I need him to write a covering letter. As for me, Sutcliffe’s given me the choice of a change to Jack Martin’s group with a change of project, or... out on my ear.’

‘That’s outrageous. What’s Frank playing at? He can’t let this happen.’

‘That’s what I keep thinking,’ said Gavin. ‘But every time I pinch myself, I find I’m awake.’

‘There has to be more to this than we’re seeing,’ said Caroline. ‘There just has to be.’

‘I’ve been thinking about what you said about treating your mother...’

‘Forget it. It was a crazy idea,’ said Caroline.

‘Your mother is probably too far gone to be helped.’