Chapter 25 #2
‘The journals, the gentoo work and the professor’s work—I can do all of them. It’s what the professor wanted me to do.’
‘Dougie is familiar with the journals. I’ve given him a contract to do the work.’
‘He’s not an ornithologist.’ I clear my throat, do my best to stay calm. ‘Or a scientist.’
‘George was unwell when he dismissed Dougie.’
‘He knew what he was doing!’
‘He isn’t here now.’
‘If he was, he’d say no!’
‘This is the right thing.’ Sebastien takes the weight from his ankle. ‘You have to trust me.’
Like brothers can be trusted to live? Like mothers can be trusted to nurture their children? Like men can be trusted to keep their word?
I turn my back, walk a careful path over the rocks before turning to face him again.
‘You can’t do this.’
Are the flecks in his chestnut eyes darker than they were because of the sky and the ocean, or because I’m seeing him more clearly?
When he reaches out, I shove his hand away.
‘George gave us permission to access the data,’ he says. ‘In his absence, we decide the best way to get it.’
‘I want to do it!’
‘George is no longer here. Your workload has doubled. Your funding doesn’t change. You get to stay.’
‘With conditions!’
Two deep breaths as he searches my face. ‘This isn’t a reflection of your work, your abilities.’
I shouldn’t have slept with him on the ship. I shouldn’t have kissed him today. I shouldn’t have even considered falling in love with him.
‘How can that be true?’
‘I should have told you earlier.’ He looks at my mouth and then away. ‘I shouldn’t have kissed you.’
‘I kissed you!’
He thinks long and hard about that. ‘Why?’
I’m not capable of hurting him physically. I’m also not sure that I can hurt his heart, but I have to protect my own.
‘On the ship, I told you my sexual experiences were limited. You know what you’re doing. You’re good at what you do. I’m attracted to you physically. That’s all.’
‘I feel more.’
A penguin waddles between us, stops for a moment, then waddles away.
‘Much more.’
I push words through the ache in my throat. ‘It was wrong to kiss you. I regret it.’
‘I missed you, Lisse.’ His eyes are bright. ‘Every day and every fucking night.’
My nose and cheeks will be pink. I smell, at best, of sunblock.
My hair is salty from the wind, my body shapeless in layers of clothing, and there’s bird and seal shit on my boots.
But if I leant against him, if I rested my head in the dip beneath his throat and breathed him in, he’d hold me close.
Maybe he’d nuzzle my neck or kiss the top of my head …
He’d hurt me again. Undermine me. Leave me. Why would I love a man like that?
‘Stay away from me.’
‘I have to finish this project.’ When he scrapes his hand through his hair, a droplet of rain runs down his cheek. ‘It’s important.’
‘My work is important too.’
‘This is the right decision.’
‘Do you always get what you want?’
His eyes narrow. ‘No.’
‘If I refuse to hand over the work, what will you do?’
He hesitates, but only for a moment. ‘I’ll send you home.’
‘Flick?’ Robin offers me a red frog. We’re drinking tea and coffee in our block’s kitchenette before going to bed.
‘No, thank you.’
She bites her frog in half. ‘What’s the problem?’
Robin is a few years older than my mother, but we’re friends. While neither of us have children, she’s close to her nephews and I have Matilda.
‘Are you a witch?’
‘I have a cauldron of brew to prove it.’ Sitting next to me at the small table, she stirs her coffee. ‘When I was at school, Macbeth’s witches were a highlight of the English curriculum. Boil and bubble, toil and trouble—they were music to an aspiring botanist’s soul.’
‘I should have read Shakespeare, shouldn’t I? Other books too. I read books that Matilda recommends, but most of my reading is non-fiction.’
‘There’s no right or wrong in reading preferences.’
‘When I was at school, I barely ever read.’
‘Your mother didn’t read to you and your brother when you were young?’
‘She liked to listen to music.’
‘Encouraging children to read is part and parcel of raising them.’
‘I’ve learnt a lot by reading to Matilda. That’s made up for it.’
A small smile. ‘You’re remarkably forgiving, Flick.’
‘Being angry …’ I sip my tea. ‘A long time ago, I did something wrong and I was punished. I decided that anger stops you enjoying things that make you happy.’
‘I love an occasional stoush, particularly in faculty meetings, but even in our private lives, anger has its place. If you can’t conjure that up, go for resentment, another emotion you seem to do your best to avoid.’
‘Are you referring to my mother?’
‘Forgive me for asking, but how much money have you transferred this week?’
‘Not as much as I transferred last week.’ I push my mug away, bring it back again. ‘My mother gets angry at me but forgave my father everything. I’d hate to be like that, being blinded by love in that way.’
‘You wouldn’t consider letting anyone in?’
A kiss on a beach. Anger. Hurt. All over again. ‘I can’t see that happening.’
‘The circumstances in which you lost your brother caused a great deal of pain, but I hope that doesn’t close you off to other …’ She smiles. ‘For want of a better word, other opportunities.’
‘Matt always insisted that flying was no more dangerous than many other things.’
‘There are many ways to lose someone. Even before he died, it would appear your father was lost to you.’
‘Matilda will always come first, but even if she didn’t, I’d never be stupid enough to follow a man in the way my mother did.’
‘Speaking of following …’ Robin sips and grimaces. ‘Seb Thorsen was searching for you this morning. Being a determined man, I imagine he found you.’
‘I was with the gentoo.’
‘What has he done to upset you this time?’
I link my hands in my lap. ‘Personal things are tangled up with work things. It’s complicated.’
‘He’s not your boss.’
‘He has the power to send me home.’
She winces. ‘Is that a possibility? Why would he do that?’
‘He told me to give the journal work to Dougie. Even though he knows I want the work, and that Professor Johnson supports me doing it.’
‘I presume you asked him why.’
‘Besides saying I was overworked, he wouldn’t explain. If the work I’m doing is valuable to his project, why would he take the risk of handing it over to Dougie?’
‘Lightening your workload, in his eyes, might be seen as considerate.’
‘Not when I made it clear it’s the last thing I want and the last thing the professor would want.’
‘Have you contacted George about this?’
‘All that would achieve is upsetting him. I can’t take that risk, particularly when he’s not able to do anything about it from his hospital bed and, as Sebastien pointed out, he’s agreed that the UN team can have access to the data contained in the journals.
I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. ’
‘Sebastien Thorsen is either blindsided by his concern for you, or he has a good reason for giving the work to Dougie. He lacks your qualifications, certainly, but he’s willing and his IT skills are excellent.’ Robin sips from her mug again. ‘This coffee is foul.’
‘Why should Professor Johnson’s work suffer for something Sebastien won’t talk about?’
‘More to the point, what are you going to do about it?’
‘According to Sebastien, do what I say or go home.’
‘As an ornithologist to penguins, the tuxedoed stars of the avian world, it might be time to back yourself.’
I rinse my mug at the sink. ‘Sebastien and I are on the same field trip in a couple of days. I could throw him overboard.’
‘I was referring to backing yourself with words, not actions, much as they might be justified. Sebastien is blocking one route, but is there an alternative?’
‘The professor would be vehemently opposed to Dougie’s involvement, but like I said, I don’t want to upset him by telling him what’s happened.’
‘A third route.’
‘I could appeal to Dougie to pull out, but he’s keen to do the work to improve his scientific credentials. He might also want the money.’
‘It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him.’
‘I could, but …’ My mug hits the draining board with a clunk. ‘I have an idea.’