‘That is a significant assumption to make…’
‘Considering you haven’t even read the application forms!’ Bridget added, her face mottled with emotion.
‘Considering my forty-one years at the forefront of world-renowned neuroscientific research and my position as head of this department, I’d consider myself more than qualified to draw a basic conclusion. Are you seriously questioning my direction, Dr Donovan? After coming in here with such an appalling lack of progress? Was I perhaps mistaken in thinking you’d advanced beyond this level of mediocrity?’
Cooper grabbed Bridget’s elbow in time to stop her launching Cole’s life-size, solid marble model of a brain across the desk.
‘Professor,’ he said, in a tone that was clearly intended to speak volumes to Bridget. ‘What Dr Donovan is trying to convey is that we want this project to stand the best possible chance of success. Given what’s at stake…’ he paused to allow Cole to remember precisely what that was ‘… we suggest that another few weeks of sourcing the right subjects is going to be worth it if it means we can achieve the optimal outcome. We’re confident that with a little more time we can come up with a pool of potential participants that will significantly strengthen the statistics. After all, the greater the pool from which we source compatibility, the more this showcases the accuracy of the Cole Compatibility Function.’
Bridget peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, and it was all Cooper could do to keep his face a cool mask as Cole nodded, pretending to consider Cooper’s argument while actually picturing Ernestine Lavinski grudgingly admitting to the entire scientific community that the Cole Compatibility Function (which Cooper had made up on the spot) was flawless.
‘Very well. You make a fair point. I’ll give you until Easter. Another fortnight. However…’ Cole leaned back in his chair, hands clasped across his bulging gut ‘… your funding runs out at the end of this academic year, Doctor. Don’t let me down.’
‘No, Professor.’ Bridget and Cooper both stood to leave.
‘And if that wasn’t clear, if you mess this up you’ll be out of a job.’
* * *
‘Farts.’ Bridget blew out a blustery sigh as she flopped into Cooper’s office chair. ‘I’m going to lose my job.’
Cooper’s heart clenched at the wobble in her voice. ‘If it comes to it, I’ll take the fall. I’m project lead.’
Cooper should contact HR about Cole, file a report or something. Except that explaining to a research associate that her tenure might not be renewed if she failed to produce results was hardly grounds for involving HR. Especially considering the level of clout the professor held in the university. No, Cooper would have to wait until Cole really stepped over the line. If he tried something too soon, he’d be out of a job alongside Bridget.
But in the meantime, Cooper had one priority: how to ensure that the Cole Compatibility Function was a triumphant success.
And for that, all he had to do was find two people gullible or unhinged enough to marry a stranger on the basis of five random questions and a DNA test.
But Cooper would do it. Even if he had to apply himself.
8
Emma
It was Friday afternoon, and I was late. Which never happens, unless Nita keeps me waiting. But today, Nita was the one waiting while I faffed about looking for my keys, and then my coat, and then forgetting the invoice. And now we were stuck in Friday traffic, which was the whole reason I wanted to leave before three.
‘Are you ill?’ Nita asked, searching for an alternative route on her phone.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, in a far snappier tone than intended.
‘Hmm. Pregnant?’
‘As if!’ I let out an involuntary snort, skidding through lights a microsecond before they switched to red.
‘Hmm.’ Nita didn’t say any more, but I could feel her assessing me, even as I kept my eyes on the road ahead, dodging in and out of clogged lanes to try to defy the inevitable.
‘I’m a bit… distracted. I’ll be fine once this drop-off’s over with.’
‘Distracted by what? Right here.’
I waited until I’d safely turned before replying. ‘I don’t know. Bridget’s wedding.’
‘You love organising weddings.’
‘Not the organising, just the whole… I don’t know… everything changing again. First Dad got ill, turning Mum into a totally different person. Then Annie moved and Orla’s found this whole new life for herself. Now Bridget’s finally getting married and moving out. I don’t know where I am any more. I feel like the earth around me is shifting. Every time I look up, old landmarks have moved or disappeared. I’m not sure where I fit. And at the same time, I’m going nowhere.’
‘You’re heading into the busiest month of orders since starting the business. Don’t undersell what you’ve achieved in the past couple of years, Emma. Your focus has been in the right place.’
