I sat back, my coat poking awkwardly at my chin because I’d buttoned it up wrong. ‘Now you tell me?’
‘You were sort of married to my housemate before.’
I let out a long sigh, blowing out some of my bewilderment and shock. Then I kissed Ben on the cheek, told him that was the loveliest thing anyone outside my family had ever said to me, wished him well for the future, said that maybe one day I’d be in touch, and I set off on a whole new, solo adventure.
29
Cooper
There was no pre-dinner pep talk for Cooper at this year’s Henry Munch Conference Dinner. Wearing the same suit as last year. New shirt. No tie. He tried and failed not to think about the difference between this year and last.
At least he had a job, this time. And despite being irrevocably in his boss’s bad books due to his role in Professor Cole’s imminent humiliation in front of numerous peers, and most importantly his arch-nemesis and spurner of his romantic advances, Cooper’s other project was turning out surprisingly promising so far.
He had a decent place to live, with a housemate who was also a genuine friend. His football team were second in the league, although his quiz team had lost three weeks in a row. He was a year older, eons wiser, and he’d readjusted to living life solo.
On the whole, not bad.
Except that this year he would be playing the role of Cole’s minder. He would be smack bang in the middle of the farcical feud that everyone was talking about. And there’d be no Bridget.
His proposed methodology for the evening?
Head down, mouth shut, brain off, all helped along by a very expensive bottle of whisky.
Professor Cole decided to handle things with his usual bulldozing belligerence, charmless repartee and by chugging back two thirds of Cooper’s whisky.
After about four thousand hours of small talk and awkward jokes and Professor Cole’s increasingly embittered snipes at anyone and everyone who wasn’t him, the food was over and the awards began. This moment had been much discussed in the corridors and laboratories of the Nottingham University Neuroscience Department. Hushed whispers about what might happen. The general conclusion: as much as some members of the department might furtively and fervently hope that it would all kick off, what everyone expected to happen was a big-fat-no-mention-at-all of last year’s disruption.
But those people hadn’t factored in the 20 per cent increase in tickets sold.
The scientific people wanted a show.
And, boy, were they going to get one.
Prof Love was only hosting the whole awards.
With a huge grin on her face, a split in her skirt all the way to her sixty-something-year-old hip, she handed out the first six awards with a bewitching combination of mischief, sophistication and TV personality pizzazz.
‘And finally, professors, doctors and science aficionados, we now come to the final award of the evening. This year’s Henry Munch Lifetime Achievement Award for an outstanding contribution to neuroscience and behavioural science goes to… oh – hang on a moment. Before we get around to announcing that, I think we have some unfinished business from last year.’
The collective gasp of half-sozzled scientists reverberated through the hall. Everybody froze. Professor Cole slowly swivelled to glare at Cooper, as though Cooper had known about this in advance.
‘Professor Cole. How lovely of you to join us. I believe we have a bet to settle?’ Prof Love smiled her stunning, wicked smile. ‘Come on up and tell us all about it.’
‘Cooper,’ Cole ground out between purple lips.
‘What?’ he whispered back, his voice drowned out by the escalating chant of ‘Coley! Coley! Coley!’ started from somewhere in the direction of Prof Love’s table.
‘Up you go.’
Cooper’s mouth dropped open. ‘Nobody wants me up there, Professor. If you don’t go, some of your numerous enemies from the psychology department are going to drag you up there themselves. You might as well get it over with.’
Cole’s sigh twisted into a frustrated snarl halfway through. ‘Well, you’re coming up there with me.’ He stood up. ‘Unless you want me to announce the real reason the Compatibility Project was a total fail.’
Cooper came up with him.
Once the catcalls, whistles and abusive heckles had died down, Prof Love poked the microphone into Cole’s face.
‘Let’s hear it.’
