typical Gavin style. He threw all the toys out the pram and went off on an all-day bender. He ended up getting mugged.’
‘Was he badly hurt?’
‘Three broken ribs and a face like he headbutted the Forth Bridge, but he still came into the lab to set up an experiment.’
‘Good for him.’
‘I was impressed too. I think that’s really why I stuck up for him when Graham started having a go.’
‘Oh what a tangled web we weave …’
Simmons smiled. ‘Don’t we just. What do you think of the new journal club proposal?’
Martin took a sip of his beer. ‘There aren’t many arses in the department that Peter Morton-Brown hasn’t kissed in the last two years. This is just his latest ploy to get himself noticed. He’s sure as shit not going to do it through scientific brilliance. I was on his first-year assessment panel. As an investigator he couldn’t find his dick in his trousers.’
‘Destined for high office then.’
‘It can only be a matter of time before he appears on telly, assuring the great British public that there is absolutely nothing to be alarmed about.’
‘Mmm,’ said Simmons. ‘The trouble is we’ll now be aiding and abetting him, recommending that our own students attend and saying what a good idea it all is.’
‘Gavin might provide an interesting take on that …’
‘Please! I don’t even want to think about it …’ said Simmons.
‘Really? … I thought you might find it strangely haunting …’
SIX
‘You’re late,’ said Jenny Simmons, standing at the sink as her husband came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms round her waist from behind. She moved her neck slightly away from his embrace as if to underline her annoyance.
‘Sorry. There was a staff meeting and then I had a beer with Jack.’
‘You two are a bad influence on each other.’
‘Staff meetings are a bad influence on both of us. I think they must be sponsored by the brewing industry. Sutcliffe was having a real go at Gavin and it really pissed me off.’
‘If you ask me, it’s about time someone had a go at Gavin. Worrying about that boy seems to take up so much of your time these days. Is he really worth the hassle?’
‘There have been times when I did wonder myself but yes, I think he is. I’m beginning to think … he’s got it.’
‘Got what? A chip on his shoulder the size of Ben Nevis?’
Simmons shushed her. ‘I know you two got off on the wrong foot but –’
‘The wrong foot!’ exclaimed Jenny. ‘The first time he came here he got hopelessly drunk and was sick all over the cat!’
‘Like I say, the wrong foot, and I’m not pretending that he doesn’t have shortcomings. He has. Lots. But just lately I think I see a glimpse of … that special something in him.’
‘What special something?’
‘The something that makes you a researcher. The thing that makes you more than just someone who can remember a lot of facts and figures and pass exams. You either have it or you don’t, and so many people who end up in research don’t.’
‘That’s a bit of a sweeping condemnation.’
‘Maybe, but it’s true. Don’t worry: they don’t know they don’t have it. They don’t even know it exists, and what you never had you never miss. You can have degrees coming out your ears, but if you don’t have that extra something that enables you to think in a certain way, you’re never going to do anything more than dot other people’s is and cross other people’s t s, however much you dress it up – and many do become quite adept at dressing it up.’
‘I take it you have this something?’ asked Jenny, turning to look at her husband.
Simmons let her go. ‘I thought I did, but these days I’m not so sure. I seem to spend most of my time on administrative chores, form filling and writing reviews. I bitch about it but maybe I’m using it as an excuse because I’ve run out of ideas …’
‘Oh, come on. You’re a top man in your field. You have the respect
‘Was he badly hurt?’
‘Three broken ribs and a face like he headbutted the Forth Bridge, but he still came into the lab to set up an experiment.’
‘Good for him.’
‘I was impressed too. I think that’s really why I stuck up for him when Graham started having a go.’
‘Oh what a tangled web we weave …’
Simmons smiled. ‘Don’t we just. What do you think of the new journal club proposal?’
Martin took a sip of his beer. ‘There aren’t many arses in the department that Peter Morton-Brown hasn’t kissed in the last two years. This is just his latest ploy to get himself noticed. He’s sure as shit not going to do it through scientific brilliance. I was on his first-year assessment panel. As an investigator he couldn’t find his dick in his trousers.’
‘Destined for high office then.’
‘It can only be a matter of time before he appears on telly, assuring the great British public that there is absolutely nothing to be alarmed about.’
‘Mmm,’ said Simmons. ‘The trouble is we’ll now be aiding and abetting him, recommending that our own students attend and saying what a good idea it all is.’
‘Gavin might provide an interesting take on that …’
‘Please! I don’t even want to think about it …’ said Simmons.
‘Really? … I thought you might find it strangely haunting …’
SIX
‘You’re late,’ said Jenny Simmons, standing at the sink as her husband came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms round her waist from behind. She moved her neck slightly away from his embrace as if to underline her annoyance.
‘Sorry. There was a staff meeting and then I had a beer with Jack.’
‘You two are a bad influence on each other.’
‘Staff meetings are a bad influence on both of us. I think they must be sponsored by the brewing industry. Sutcliffe was having a real go at Gavin and it really pissed me off.’
‘If you ask me, it’s about time someone had a go at Gavin. Worrying about that boy seems to take up so much of your time these days. Is he really worth the hassle?’
‘There have been times when I did wonder myself but yes, I think he is. I’m beginning to think … he’s got it.’
‘Got what? A chip on his shoulder the size of Ben Nevis?’
Simmons shushed her. ‘I know you two got off on the wrong foot but –’
‘The wrong foot!’ exclaimed Jenny. ‘The first time he came here he got hopelessly drunk and was sick all over the cat!’
‘Like I say, the wrong foot, and I’m not pretending that he doesn’t have shortcomings. He has. Lots. But just lately I think I see a glimpse of … that special something in him.’
‘What special something?’
‘The something that makes you a researcher. The thing that makes you more than just someone who can remember a lot of facts and figures and pass exams. You either have it or you don’t, and so many people who end up in research don’t.’
‘That’s a bit of a sweeping condemnation.’
‘Maybe, but it’s true. Don’t worry: they don’t know they don’t have it. They don’t even know it exists, and what you never had you never miss. You can have degrees coming out your ears, but if you don’t have that extra something that enables you to think in a certain way, you’re never going to do anything more than dot other people’s is and cross other people’s t s, however much you dress it up – and many do become quite adept at dressing it up.’
‘I take it you have this something?’ asked Jenny, turning to look at her husband.
Simmons let her go. ‘I thought I did, but these days I’m not so sure. I seem to spend most of my time on administrative chores, form filling and writing reviews. I bitch about it but maybe I’m using it as an excuse because I’ve run out of ideas …’
‘Oh, come on. You’re a top man in your field. You have the respect
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