Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
Alexia
"Put it on speaker," Rhys says, quiet, already moving in closer. "We're here for you. Whatever it is."
I do, my thumb not quite steady on the screen.
“Alexia? It's Graham, from the submission office, sorry to call so soon after your defence, I know the timing's terrible."
My lungs empty of air. “That's... that's fine, Graham. Is everything okay?"
"More than okay, I think, depending how you look at it.
" A pause, papers shuffling somewhere on his end.
"There was a formal review opened on your fellowship application a few weeks back.
Some concerns raised about your conduct, your work — I won't go through the specifics over the phone, but I imagine you knew about the issues. "
My stomach drops straight through the floor. "Yes," is all I can manage. Rhys gives me a nod of support.
"I'm calling to tell you that the concerns were disputed. Thoroughly. And I wanted you to hear it from me directly, because I think you've earned that."
My eyes flick to Rhys, who just looks back at me. "Disputed how?"
"For a start, someone spoke up in your defence. Strongly. In writing, at length, unprompted."
My mouth drops open and I point to Rhys, but he just shakes his head. "May I ask who?"
"Yes, it was Professor Pollack."
I actually laugh, short and startled. "Oh, wow. I didn't realise he'd done that."
"I can tell you that his letter was incredibly thorough," Graham says, and I can hear something like admiration in it.
"Especially around the unsubstantiated claim that you'd tried to take credit for a colleague's research and that you'd simply used ideas suggested in a student's classroom observations and presented the ideas as entirely your own. "
"I— wow, no, that's not what happened at all," I say, panic rising. But I needn't have worried.
"We know. There was a staff member in the reading room the day you and Mr Pedler discussed it, who confirms you did approach him but you asked him for nothing more than a reference. Nothing about being credited."
I let out a long breath of relief.
"And then there's the footage," Graham adds. "From the picnic. Somebody had recorded the incident. It's fairly conclusive on the subject of what was actually said to you that day, and by whom."
I have to sit down. Marcus is already sliding a chair under me, gently lowering me into it as I try to make sense of everything I'm hearing.
"So," Graham says, and I can hear him getting ready to close it out.
"For what it's worth, unofficially — even setting your application aside entirely, that's not a person this university's going to be offering anything to any time soon.
Now, this call isn't official. But the committee was incredibly impressed with your application.”
I can't get a single word out.
"Congratulations, Dr Riley," Graham says, warm, like he's genuinely pleased to be the one saying it. "Keep an eye on your inbox."
"Right. Last thing before you all disappear for your eam prep and forget I exist,” I say to a room of exhausted twenty-year-olds, waiting for the shuffling to die down.
"My door and inbox are open until the hour before the exam. But if you could get your questions in before that window, my anxiety would greatly appreciate it. As will yours, I guarantee it.”
A few tired laughs. Someone lifts his arms over his head in a giant yawn that has me seeing what he had for dinner last night.
"You're all going to do great. Just believe in yourselves. And read the notes I gave you. I didn't spend fifty hours putting those together purely for my own amusement." I pause. "Well. The colour-coded boxes and super artistic doodles might have been for me. But the actual content's for you."
That gets me another polite laugh, and then a hand goes up in the last row.
"Thomas, is this actually related to the class?" I say, suspicious, used to his irrelevant questions over the last few months.
"...Kinda?"
I'm not convinced but I'm feeling generous. "Fine. Go ahead."
"Dr Riley, are you going to be back here next year?"
I smile, lean back against the desk, and cross my feet at the ankles. Then I nod.
"Yes. I will. At least part-time. I'll be co-TA-ing the same two classes I did this semester."
"You're not taking the Hargreaves Fellowship?" Thomas asks. “We heard you were offered the position.”
"Firstly, I don't know how you guys know about that, but why should I be surprised at this point," I laugh.
"And secondly, I am taking it. With a little amendment.
They've agreed to let me work a semi-remote position.
So I'll be based in Adelaide, commuting when I need to, as well as teaching here.” I smile.
"I couldn't leave again. Adelaide is my home. "