Nate was a brilliant speaker. He was clear, concise and perfectly paced. She knew he would be from the practice runs of his presentation, but it came across so much better in a well-fitted, dark suit (with a waistcoat that was causing her to melt into a small puddle), on a stage, over a microphone. He was damned sexy, with hints of grey at his temples and short stubble across his jawline. Flashes came from the photographer the University had hired, and she reminded herself to get a few of the pictures for advertising. Nate was calm and collected, and there was not a hint of nerves as he caught her eye. He winked with a sly smile that was meant just for her, but in full view of everyone.
There was applause as he finished his presentation. Yes, he may hate it, but if his reception was anything to go by, then people were going to be showering Nate with money. Provided Alex didn’t fuck it up.
Alex went next, the crumpled record cards he’d been shuffling during Nate’s speech awkward in his hands as he tried to use the mic. If Laurel had had any sympathy left for him at all, she would have been embarrassed at the car crash of his public speaking. Sure, it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea and yeah, it was okay to be nervous. But Alex was badly prepared and badly presented. He obviously hadn’t been through his speech more than once, and that one time had been on stage, just now. Compared to Nate’s consummate performance, he was woefully inadequate. At least he had said the important words of ‘the BAS see the potential here and fully endorse this site’.
What. A. Relief.
The bumbling and badly toned jokes didn’t last very long and there was a small spatter of applause before Nate opened the floor for questions.
A raven-haired lady put her hand up. She was an academic.
‘Dr Daley, Mr Woollard, are we to expect another groundbreaking collaborative paper from the two of you?’
Nate laughed slightly. ‘Perhaps, Andrea. We haven’t discussed it.’
He and Alex hadn’t discussed it, because Alex hadn’t been answering his emails. Nate had told Laurel there was no way he was collaborating academically with Alex ever again. Never.
‘But the Pictish stylus paper was such a decisive change in how we look at the Picts, perhaps there is something on this site that you could use to change the thinking around Anglo-Saxons?’
Laurel rolled her eyes. For god’s sake, Andrea, just drop it.
‘I’m sure there are extremely interesting finds here and with further and better interpretation, I believe we will be able to add something individual and new to the existing body of work,’ Nate said, shutting her down, flicking his eyes to other members of the audience with their hands half-raised.
Laurel glanced at the publications table. She should probably read Nate and Alex’s paper on the Pictish stylus she found, see what it was that made it so special. Be a supportive and interested girlfriend.
She headed over to the table quietly and scanned the publication extracts, all neatly stapled in the corners before she found the one entitled ‘Refocusing Pictish Interpretations, Alex Woollard and Nate Daley’. Alex coughed loudly over his mic, but she ignored him and started reading, the questions continuing in the background.
There are scant historical artifacts that influence our interpretation of the Picts. In fact, the majority of our knowledge comes from heavily biased, negative Roman sources. But what if the Romans were wrong? What if the Romans didn’t understand Pictish society and let their prejudices of the tattooed, Viking-esque peoples prevent them from seeing any ‘modern’ development?
Huh, that seemed slightly familiar. From what she could remember from university, it didn’t seem as formal or dry as other academic papers.
The discovery of the stylus at Hadrian’s wall can illuminate the Picts in a different, more advanced light, an illumination that the Romans likely chose to ignore. The way in which the Romans invaded and conquered did not include the desire to learn from different cultures, but to dominate and assimilate. Thus, our commonly held idea that the Picts were ‘uneducated heathens’ likely comes from the Romans’ desire for uniformity and eradication of indigenous culture.
Something picked in the back of Laurel’s mind. Hadn’t the paper that she’d left in Nate’s pigeonhole all those years ago started similarly? Possibly, but more than one person can have the same idea. Didn’t she have all her university work saved in a long-forgotten file in her Dropbox? She’d check. Another cough from Alex over the mic. He really was awful at public speaking.
It took a while, but she finally found the paper, buried at the end of the ‘Uni Junk’ folder. It took a while to load, but there it was, entitled ‘Refocusing the Picts, Laurel Fletcher’. She scanned her eyes across the first paragraph, then frowned and read through it more carefully again.
It was the same.
Exactly. The. Same.
Laurel blinked a couple of times and refocused on both essays. There wasn’t a single word of difference between the two introductions. The whole premise of Nate’s superhero paper was based on her essay. The entire introduction had been lifted from her essay. The essay that she had written as an undergraduate. She’d been so proud when she’d written it, so nervous putting it in Nate’s pigeonhole with a note asking him to meet her for a drink to discuss her ideas. Instead of having a constructive discussion and giving her feedback, he had sent Alex to humiliate her and then committed the cardinal academic sin.
He’d stolen her work. Stolen the work of an undergraduate and passed it off as his own.
It was a coup that a Masters student had come up with such a comprehensive essay, but an undergraduate? Unheard of.
Laurel flicked the pages of Nate’s essay to the end to check the conclusion and compared it with hers. It was completely different, with better observations and more cohesive arguments. But the introduction was the thing that got people reading, that hooked people.
Angry tears pricked at the back of her eyes.
Dr Nathanial Daley’s public popularity had waned after the initial rush of interest with his Pictish papers, and she scanned his other, drier, more academic papers. Not at all as engaging as her not-quite-academic introduction.
Laurel looked up at Nate on stage, mic in hand, answering another question with a secure, self-assured smile. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he wanted to forget about what happened ten years ago, because he had built his success on the paper he had stolen from her.
A fat tear smeared across the printed page of Nate’s academic writing.
Feedback crackled over the speaker and she lifted her eyes to Alex, sweating profusely. He coughed again, put the mic down on the table and sidled off the stage, motioning at his throat.
