Ken McClure: Hypocrite's Isle

‘Believe me, I spelled it out to her. I went to enormous lengths to stress how experimental this was. Come on, let’s not talk about failure on the very first day?’

Gavin agreed.

‘What have you been up to?’

Gavin told her of his travails with Microsoft Excel.

‘I’m convinced that half the workforce in this country spend their time trying to solve computer problems,’ said Caroline.

‘And the other half spend their time creating them.’

‘When d’you think you’ll have finished the paper?’

‘Another two or three days, and then I’ll arrange with Jenny to see Frank and get him to look it over it and do the letter.’

‘Do you know how he is?’

‘Jenny didn’t want anyone from the lab calling.’

Gavin’s flatmate took the finished paper to work with him on Thursday morning on a floppy disk, and returned in the evening with three laser-printed copies, courtesy of the insurance company’s professional quality printers. Gavin called Frank’s number and Jenny answered.

‘Jenny, it’s Gavin. How is he?

‘Oh, he’s a lot better, thanks, Gavin. ‘A bit lacking in the joie de vivre department, but that’s only to be expected. I’ve got him doing all the little jobs round the house he’s been avoiding for ages. I guess it’s him you want to speak to...’

‘Hello, Gavin,’ said Frank’s voice.

‘Hi, Frank, I was wondering if we might meet up and have a talk?’

‘I was thinking much the same thing,’ said Simmons. ‘I don’t think I want to sit with the ghosts in the lab right now, so why don’t you come out here, say tomorrow about eleven?’

‘Great, look forward to it.’ Gavin put the phone down slowly, not quite sure what he was feeling. The situation seemed strangely surreal. Frank doing jobs round the house after all that had happened...

‘Everything all right, Gav?’ asked Tim.

‘Sure. Come on; I’ll buy you a beer.’

Gavin felt apprehensive as he got off the bus and walked towards Frank’s house. He felt angry about Frank running off to Australia, but on the other hand he understood how he must be feeling after all that had happened. He liked Frank, and he thought that Frank had come to like him, but he knew their relationship hadn’t developed to a point where they could put all their cards on the table and say exactly what they were feeling. He saw the visit as an exercise in damage limitation. He had his laptop in his rucksack and the three copies of the paper. If all went well and Frank didn’t insist on the paper being submitted to some journal other than Nature — and he couldn’t see why he should, because this was groundbreaking science — he could have everything in the post by that evening. That would be such a good feeling, and if the paper was accepted — which was a much bigger ‘if’ with the experiments not having been duplicated, but still very possible because of the importance of the subject matter — his worries about his doctorate and future career prospects could well be over. He would be out of reach of the Sutcliffes of this world.

Frank opened the door and invited him in, saying that Jenny was at work at the surgery. ‘Coffee?’

‘Thanks. How are you feeling?’ asked Gavin, as he took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair.

‘I’m not sure,’ said Simmons, filling two mugs from a coffee flask. He plonked them down on the table and pushed sugar and milk towards Gavin. ‘A bit numb, I suppose. One minute I have a lab and a research group, the next minute I don’t. I’ve got nothing.’

Gavin gave a nod but did not speak.

‘I keep seeing the look on Mary’s parents’ faces when they saw her lying there. As for Tom’s parents and what they must be going through...’

‘Maybe the least said the better,’ said Gavin, with a hardness that Simmons picked up on. ‘Of course, he meant it for you,’ he said. ‘It’s all such a mess...’

‘I hear you’re off to Australia?’

Simmons nodded, becoming aware of Gavin’s level gaze, and breaking off eye contact to concentrate on stirring his coffee. ‘Jenny has relatives there. Give me a chance to recharge the batteries, that sort of thing.’

‘Professor Sutcliffe wouldn’t allow me to finish off the Valdevan experiments. He’s offered me a change of project.’

Simmons looked down at the table surface. ‘Look, Gavin, I’m sorry.’

Gavin felt anger rise up in him but he kept it in check. ‘There’s still a chance we can get the stuff published without the extra insurance of duplicate results,’ he said, opening his rucksack and bringing out the paper. ‘I’ve written it up for Nature but I could change it if you really wanted.’ He pushed it towards Simmons, who said quietly, ‘ Nature’s fine... exactly where it should be.’

‘Then all we need is a covering letter signed by you,’ said Gavin, feeling relieved that a big hurdle had been crossed.

‘Not possible,’ said Simmons.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘In effect... I’ve relinquished my position in the department for the six-month period of my... sabbatical. My grants have been suspended, and so have all my other duties and responsibilities. I no longer have the authority to write such a letter.’

‘You’re kidding,’ said Gavin.

‘’Fraid not.’

‘So what happens to the Valdevan work?’

Simmons shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Who knows? Maybe in six months, attitudes will have changed...’

‘Yeah, right, Frank,’ said Gavin angrily, as latent suspicion rose up inside him. ‘Or should I say, Professor Simmons. Word gets around...’

‘No, it was nothing like that,’ insisted Simmons, as Gavin got up to repack his rucksack.

‘Yeah, right.’ Gavin slung his pack over his shoulder and made to leave.

‘Wait, come back,’ said Simmons as Gavin reached the door.

Gavin turned but remained standing defiantly at the door.

‘You’re not the only one who got mugged.’

Gavin relaxed his grip on the door handle.

‘And not all muggers come from dark alleys,’ said Simmons.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘The night Tom died I was summoned to Old College and given a choice,’ said Simmons. ‘I could either do what I’ve ended up doing, and temporarily relinquish my position, take a six-month break on full pay, and then return to my job to rebuild my career or... they would instigate disciplinary proceedings against me and suspend me from my position pending an investigation. Either way, I was out of the department.’

‘Disciplinary proceedings for what?’ asked Gavin.

‘What I said at the meeting. Apparently it is a serious matter to subject a senior member of the university to sustained verbal abuse.’

‘Christ,’ said Gavin. ‘Where did they dig that one up from?’

‘No prizes for guessing what the outcome of such an investigation would be... they wouldn’t exactly be short of witnesses: the whole department heard. I have a wife, two children and a mortgage. What do you think you would have done in the circumstances?’

Gavin gave a resigned nod. The bottom had just fallen out of his world, and he felt hollow inside. He found it impossible to sustain any one emotion for any length of time. Anger quickly changed to understanding, understanding to pity, pity to suspicion, and back to anger again. ‘Enjoy Australia, Frank,’ he said, as he turned and left.

Simmons, still sitting at the table, held his head in his hands. Was there to be no end to this nightmare? He was just trying to do what was right and yet... it all felt so bloody wrong. After a few moments he had the feeling he wasn’t alone, and looked up to see Jenny standing there.