The Rosie Result

by Graeme Simsion

  ‘I thought you might call me one day,’ said Amghad. ‘Maybe a bit sooner. Where have you been?’

  ‘Primarily New York City.’

  ‘Makes sense. Every serious cocktail guy ends up there sometime. I don’t need to tell you that cocktails are back. You were ahead of your time—knowing the book backwards, tailoring the cocktail to the customer. Now everyone’s done that and it’s bacon-infused bourbon and giant ice cubes.’

  ‘Scientifically unsound. The ice-cube theory. The reduced dilution is achieved at the expense of chilling.’

  ‘I’m not telling you anything. You probably know I’ve got a few places now, but, like I said, the game has changed. Crowded market. I’m interested, but it’s got to be something different. A killer concept.’

  Rosie sipped the cocktail I had made. ‘Don, working some shifts in a cocktail bar makes sense. But opening a bar? You’d be swapping one full-time job for another.’

  ‘With different working hours. I’ll be able to perform the Hudson activities while you’re at work. School delivery, school pick-up, meal preparation in advance if necessary. Personal tuition, obviously. My total workload will be less due to elimination of the study. Also, once the bar is a success, I can reduce my hours.’

  ‘If it’s a success. I mean, a bar is a business, and—’

  ‘I’ve engaged an experienced business partner and developed the necessary killer concept.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Is your cocktail satisfactory?’

  ‘It’s the best Last Word I’ve ever had. Really strong. Not too sweet. I’m guessing you used overproof gin.’

  ‘Incorrect. My liquor was the same as yours but stored in the freezer. I lowered the temperature to minimum. Virtually zero absorption of ice, hence no dilution. Subjectively less sweet due to chilling of the tastebuds.’

  ‘Neat idea. A bit tricky to do in a bar.’

  ‘It’s totally feasible. But to optimise, all liquor should be cooled to just above its freezing point, which differs depending on alcohol content. Hence the need for a customised refrigeration system. Which requires a refrigeration expert.’

  ‘Dave.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Can he do it from New York?’

  ‘No. He will be coming to Melbourne as refrigeration consultant. Which will give him income and a purpose in life, plus the support of his closest friend to encourage him to commence a rehabilitation program before he returns to New York. All problems solved.’

  Rosie emptied her glass. ‘You left some in the shaker, didn’t you, and you were going to hold off until I agreed, right?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘You’re good to pour. I said when I married you that I was expecting constant craziness, so I’d be letting us both down if I said no. We’re a professor of genetics and a mental-health researcher and we’re going to open a cocktail bar and fly in a refrigeration engineer from New York. Of course we are.’

  I divided the remaining Last Word between the two glasses. There was only a small amount. ‘There’s enough juice left to make a margarita,’ I said.

  ‘You know how long it is since we made cocktails together?’ said Rosie. ‘You’ve been so busy with your job and the study, you’ve had no time for Hudson—at least until this autism thing came up. I thought we’d lost you.’

  She drank the remains of the Last Word. ‘Maybe this bar will work, maybe it won’t, but something had to change. You’ve made the right call.’

  As I calculated the quantities of tequila and Cointreau required to complement the thirty-five millilitres of surplus lime juice, I reviewed Rosie’s words. I had almost missed the biggest problem of all.

  12

  My first action was to advise Professor Lawrence.

  ‘I’m glad you called me before doing anything,’ she said. ‘Nobody should throw away a senior academic position without—’

  ‘I’ve already—’

  ‘Hear me out, Don. I’m going to suggest you take leave of absence. Without pay—that’ll satisfy the lynch mob and build some sympathy. If you choose to return at some stage, the heat will have gone out of this and your complainant will probably have other things on her plate. Between you and I…’

  ‘You and me.’

  ‘You can spare me the grammar lesson.’

  ‘Apologies. It’s a habit from educating my eleven-year-old child.’

  ‘Between you and me, this isn’t the only issue she has running. She’ll have moved on. Memories will have faded. With the exception of yours, of course.’

  ‘Excellent solution.’

  ‘I’ll talk to the chair of the disciplinary committee this afternoon, but you can assume you won’t be going to work tomorrow.’

  I advised Amghad of my killer concept and he seemed enthusiastic.

  ‘Cocktail science. It’s been done, but the freezer thing may be new. Keep thinking about it.’

  ‘I also have a possible location.’

  My initial thought had been the University Club, which currently focused on wine. But Professor Lawrence thought that a disgraced academic serving cocktails might not be a ‘good look’.

  I described the laboratory being vacated by Dang Minh’s genetics-research company. It was located in an inner suburb but not close to other bars, hence less competition. The décor would be consistent with the science theme and it might be possible to purchase and modify the refrigeration equipment.

  ‘You know these guys, right? The current tenants?’ said Amghad.

  ‘We’ve had two meetings. They were extremely friendly.’

  ‘Maybe you talk to them. If we go ahead, I’ll negotiate the financials. But, like I said, we’ve got a way to go yet.’

  ‘Also, I’ll need a refrigeration expert.’

  ‘Least of our problems.’

  ‘The requirements are very specific. I know a refrigeration engineer—’

  ‘And you want to send some business his way?’

  ‘Correct. The costs—’

  ‘Details. We’ll deal with them when we’ve got the concept.’

  I had not consulted Dave about his role, and he was opposed to it. Totally, irrevocably opposed.

  ‘What do you think Sonia would say? I leave her holding the baby while I travel halfway around the world to hang out with my buddy? In a bar?’

  ‘It would only be a few weeks. Sonia could take some time off. Due to you having an income. And we could talk about what you do next. Having a job is essential for sanity.’

  ‘Man, I so appreciate you trying, and you’re great with technical solutions, but there are people involved here. I can hardly walk. I’ll probably never work again. If I came, that’d be the end for Sonia and me. The end. You don’t know Sonia.’

  Sonia called me back nineteen minutes later.

  ‘Oh God, Don, I don’t know how to thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  It was obvious that she was crying. This was not unusual for Sonia, in situations of both positive and negative emotions, so it was difficult to ascertain what she was thanking me for. Perhaps Dave was right, and I had given her an excuse to leave him. I asked for clarification.

  ‘What do you think I’m thanking you for, Don? For giving Dave a job, some work, any work. If you could see him—he’s gotten so big and we don’t do anything together anymore…And now we’ve got something to look forward to, something to do together: I’ve always wanted to see Australia.’

  ‘You’re coming?’

  ‘Yes, yes, my company has an office in Melbourne—they’ve got branches everywhere—and they’ve been pushing so hard for me to do a secondment, but Dave kept pushing back. Don’t ever tell him, but I was close to taking the kids to Italy and leaving him behind. You’re maybe the only person who could have persuaded him. You’ve answered my prayers, Don. Do they have Catholic schools in Melbourne?’

  My assessment that Minh was on the edge of being clinically manic was reinforced when I phoned to enquire about leasing the
premises. She was ecstatic. She owned the building and had not sold the refrigeration equipment. She loved what I planned to do with it. But I needed to allow her staff to drink for free. Every night.

  I was stunned. I doubted it would be feasible or legal. Or wise for the owner of a research organisation to encourage their staff to drink.

  She laughed. ‘Just kidding. But I want you to know we look after our people. Maybe I’ll cut a deal with your business guy. Maybe just me drinking for free. Maybe just mojitos. You’re going to be making mojitos, right? That may be part of the deal. And when you’re bored with running the bar, you’re going to come work with us—I could add that in, too.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  ‘Chill. That’s what you should call it. Chill.’ I had expected my boss, Diana, to be relieved that I was departing, given my incompetence. To my amazement, she was not.

  ‘Don, you’ve been a huge asset to the project. I can’t believe you’d think otherwise. You’re a professor, and I thought you’d just be overseeing things, offering guidance, adding a little cachet, but you’ve dug right into the detail…’

  ‘It was the only way to understand the work.’

  ‘Well, you’ve exceeded all our expectations. But this racism thing…I understand what you’re doing.’

  I recommended Laszlo as my replacement, pointing out that his initial rejection had been based on interview performance, which research has confirmed is an unreliable method of assessment. After approximately half an hour, Diana terminated the discussion and I assumed I had convinced her. I shared the good news with Laszlo, but he was not prepared to rely on my assessment of another person’s intentions.

  ‘You and me, Don, we are not good at this. We will wait and see.’

  But while we were talking, Diana called him with the job offer. And Professor Lawrence called me. The proposal that I take a year’s unpaid leave had been accepted. The committee thanked me for my understanding and co-operation, and trusted there would be a speedy resolution satisfactory to all parties. According to Professor Lawrence, this was code for them agreeing that the problem, if ignored long enough, would disappear.

  Things were moving fast. And my schedule was clear to proceed with the Hudson Project.

  13

  On the first evening in my new role, I had planned to create an action list for the Hudson Project, but unscheduled events intervened.

  Dinner had to be delayed because Rosie was late: Won’t be too long then Hopefully home by 7 then Start without me. Hudson was understandably annoyed with the disruption, then with the change to the Wednesday meal. He had internalised the Standardised Meal System and expected it to be followed.

  Unfortunately, the low-temperature-alcohol experiment had necessitated making room in the freezer, and I now needed to use up the pasta sauce which I had taken out and omitted to return. The memory lapse was possibly a result of the consumption of low-temperature alcohol.

  ‘I’m going to have less time to read after dinner,’ said Hudson.

  ‘You had extra time before dinner. Exactly the same amount as you’re now missing after dinner.’

  ‘I don’t read between school and dinner. I do homework.’

  ‘Didn’t you finish your homework? With the extra time?’

  ‘I did some of tomorrow’s. It was homework time. Now my whole week is messed up.’ He pushed his plate to one side. ‘This is totally wrong.’

  I agreed, but not to the extent that I was going to deny myself nourishment.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask, “How was school?”’ said Hudson.

  ‘Your mother normally asks the question, so me asking it would be a violation of ritual.’

  ‘Ask me. Do something normal.’

  ‘How was school?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘If a terrorist had entered the classroom and shot everyone except you, because you threw yourself through a glass window and escaped by stealing a car, would that still be the answer?’

  Hudson laughed briefly. Autistic people often do not get jokes. ‘You would have heard it on the news. Also, I can’t drive. I think the windows are some sort of super-strong glass and if they weren’t, I would have cut myself and you’d see it.’

  ‘How was your day between the hours of 9 a.m. and 3.30 p.m.?’ I asked, thinking that a break from ritual might elicit a non-standard answer.

  ‘Fine.’ Hudson found an orecchietta which had not been in contact with the sauce and ate it. ‘Actually, terrible. Like every day.’

  ‘Can you provide more details?’

  ‘I hate the teacher, I hate the other kids—except one—they won’t let me do math—maths—the way I want to, which works…’

  ‘What’s wrong with Mr Warren?’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘Can you provide an example?’

  ‘He won’t let us stay in the classroom at recess. Can I be excused? Please?’

  ‘First I need to share some information. Positive information. Commencing today, I’m going to be available after school every day to assist you in overcoming these problems.’

  ‘What? What about Mum? What about Grandpa?’

  ‘Your mother will be at work. Her job has escalated. And Grandpa won’t be required. I will replace both in the after-school-care role.’

  ‘You never asked me. You’ve changed everything without asking me. Like you did when you decided to leave New York and come to this place. This totally crappy place.’

  Hudson swept his dinner across the table and onto the floor and began yelling, initially at me, but then more generally. I could guess, from personal experience, how he felt. At first, completely out of control, then aware that what he was doing was irrational, but locked into continuing, like a petrol pump with the trigger stuck.

  What would I have wanted an adult to do to assist? I needed to give him a reason to stop, which meant removing the cause of the problem—the change in parenting protocol, which I had presented in an unnecessarily inflexible manner.

  ‘The change is negotiable,’ I said, raising my voice over his. I decided to repeat it. Hudson was screaming incoherently, and I was shouting the mantra, and Hudson’s dinner was still spread across the table and floor when Rosie walked in.

  Some of Hudson’s anger seemed to dissipate. Rosie held up one hand and put the other on top horizontally—the time-out signal—and he ran towards his room.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Rosie. ‘This is Day One.’

  ‘If you think you and Hudson have had a bad day, let me tell you about mine,’ said Rosie when we eventually sat down to freshly cooked pasta and reheated sauce.

  She had spoken to Hudson and reported that he was less angry but still unhappy. I suggested we tackle the work debriefing first, since it might affect the Hudson situation.

  ‘I’m assuming that Judas has failed to honour his promise, which would mean that you would be available for after-school care…’

  ‘Wait till you’ve heard the story. Basically, Judas said it was too late. The funding proposal is due Friday—not enough time to change, according to him. I called bullshit. It’s just names against roles. And he wouldn’t budge. Said I could complain all I liked, but he’s the boss, and he had to make the call about whether we had enough time.’

  ‘Incredibly unreasonable. Management roles seem to encourage irrationality, even in scientists.’

  ‘So,’ said Rosie, ‘the submission’s online. I edited it to change the names and roles. Took me till 5.00 p.m.’

  ‘Did you tell him?’

  ‘Of course I did. After I’d done it. What was he going to say? I’d proved him wrong. So he started looking for other ways to lock me out. And when he ran out of ways, you know what he said to me?’

  ‘Obviously, no.’

  ‘He said, “I thought your son was having difficulties. Doesn’t he need you at home?” Like Hudson had only one parent. And you weren’t even in the frame, because…you know why because. So, you know how Hudson was when I came in?
That was me. Approximately.’

  ‘You had a meltdown?’

  ‘I was in control, so, by your definition, no.’

  ‘You’ve been fired?’

  ‘No, I’ve got the job. At least my name’s on the submission. It’s still got to get funded. But—’

  ‘The rest is irrelevant. Incredible. You should be happy.’

  ‘I am. But still angry.’ She laughed.

  ‘Excellent. Now we can address the Hudson issue.’

  Hudson was, said Rosie, prepared to discuss the arrangement. If I had, at eleven, behaved as Hudson had, my father would have told me that I had forfeited any right to input. Perhaps his goal was to deter future meltdowns, but if I could have prevented them, I would have already done so.

  Rosie thought I should be the one to talk to Hudson, particularly given my new role. Then she told me how high the stakes were. ‘If he needs me to be there for him, I’ll be there.’ To increase the degree of difficulty, she added, ‘You can’t tell him I’d lose the chief-investigator role. It’d be emotional blackmail.’

  When I completed the strengths section on the performance-review form that was never submitted, there was zero chance I would have responded: Negotiating with a justifiably angry and emotionally unstable eleven-year-old to separate him from time with his mother while not revealing that his preferred outcome would cost her the job she had travelled across the world to take.

  I spent the next day, before collecting Hudson from school, considering my approach.

  ‘Where’s Mum?’ he said as he entered the Porsche. ‘There’s a big scrape on the car.’

  ‘Gatepost,’ I said. ‘The door is still functional. Your mother is at work. She is required to do some incredibly important research—hence is not able to finish until approximately 5.30 p.m., Mondays to Fridays inclusive.’

  ‘You both think her work’s more important than me?’

  ‘At a global level, yes. If it saves at least two lives, which is likely, then rationally it’s more important. But your mother and I place a huge weighting on your welfare because you’re our son. Fortunately, you have two parents, and I can function as backup. I can perform all tasks that your mother performs.’