Scandalous

by Tilly Bagshawe

  Theresa had been outraged on Theo’s behalf, sympathetic and practical. “We’ll talk to Ed Gilliam. He’ll know what to do. Try not to worry, darling. At best this girl’s delusional, and at worst she’s a liar. Either way, she can’t hurt you. The truth will come out.”

  The next morning, Theo gave the same spiel to Ed Gilliam. When he’d finished, Ed said, “You prick. You were sleeping with her, weren’t you?”

  “Sleeping with…? Of course I wasn’t sleeping with her!” Theo blustered. “How dare you imply…”

  “I’m going to give you five seconds to stop talking shit and tell me the truth. And if you don’t, I’m going to hang up, play a nice round of golf, and forget you ever existed. OK?”

  Theo hesitated. “All right. Yes, OK, I did sleep with her. A couple of times. But it was nothing, a silly fling. She seduced me. Sasha can be very persuasive, you know.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Ed. “Pretty young girl plays the victim and next thing you know you’re a pedophile. No one will give a fuck whose theory this is after that. By the way, just out of interest, did you steal it?”

  “No! Of course I didn’t. The whole thing’s preposterous.”

  “Good. Now listen, you leave the PR side of this to me. It’s a nightmare, but I’ve handled worse. The trick is to hit back first, not wait for Lolita to leak the story. I’m going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to do it, no questions asked. We can salvage this thing, but we have to act fast. And Theo?”

  “Yes, Ed?”

  “Stop lying to me. Save your energy for all the other people you’re going to have to lie to.”

  Following Ed Gilliam’s instructions, Theo admitted his affair with Sasha to Theresa that evening, albeit a heavily edited version.

  “But…but…we’ve been so happy.” Theresa blinked back tears.

  “I know.” Theo hugged her. “I’ve been a fool, T. I am happy with you. Sasha was just so vulnerable and so needy. She kept on and on, pursuing me, begging me to be with her. It was relentless. I didn’t realize how psychologically disturbed she was until it was too late. Can you ever forgive me?”

  His remorse was so heartfelt Theresa couldn’t help but forgive him, but she was desperately hurt. There was no time to process her feelings, however. The very next morning, a double-page spread ran in the Daily Mail, salivating over British science’s newest star’s liaison with his beautiful protégée.

  At the breakfast table, Theo shook the newspaper angrily. “Bitch. I can’t believe she’s gone public already. Has she no shame? I mean it’s not just me she’s hurting. It’s you, and St. Michael’s. The whole physics community gets tainted with this shit. How could she?”

  “It’s all right, darling.” Theresa touched his arm consolingly. “We’ll get through it together.”

  Half an hour later, Theo called Ed Gilliam from the car.

  “Nice piece.”

  “Yeah. It should do the job. Remember, say nothing to the press, not till I get you that statement. If they doorstep you, keep your cool and look remorseful.”

  “Remorseful. Got it.”

  “This is only the opening salvo, you know. The war hasn’t begun. Now we have to get the university on our side.”

  “Leave that to me,” said Theo.

  When Sasha read the Daily Mail article she was nearly sick.

  “Where do they get this stuff? And who the hell are these ‘insiders’ I’m supposed to have confided in? They make it sound like I leaked the story.”

  It was only two days since she’d watched Theo on the evening news. She hadn’t even worded her formal complaint to the physics faculty yet, never mind talked to the press.

  “He’s playing hardball, isn’t he, the creep?” said Don Miller contemptuously. “We need to get you a lawyer, pronto.”

  Theresa sat at Jenny and Jean Paul’s kitchen table, sobbing. Jenny put her arms around her. “It’s all right, lovie. You can cry. Theo’s put you through hell.”

  Theresa looked up, wiping her nose on her sleeve like a child. “Oh no. You mustn’t blame Theo. It’s this vicious girl. I mean, yes, Theo made a mistake…”

  Jenny raised an eyebrow. “A bit more than a mistake, T.”

  “If you could see how sorry he was, Jen. He hates himself for it. And now he stands to lose everything, everything he’s ever worked for. It’s much harder for him than it is for me.”

  Jenny’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline.

  “I know I’ve got to be strong, to hold it all together for him. But I…I…” Theresa broke down again. “I started bleeding this morning. I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but I just know. I really thought this time we might be lucky.”

  Jenny put her arms around her friend. She knew how hopeful Theresa had been about this new round of IVF. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s the stress. Reading all this stuff in the newspapers. This little cow Sasha just doesn’t care. She doesn’t give a damn.”

  Jenny was silent. There was so much to say, but she knew Theresa didn’t want to hear any of it.

  Theo Dexter had a lot to answer for.

  “So you’ve made a formal complaint to the college authorities and to the physics faculty?”

  “Yes.” Sasha’s eyes wandered over the lawyer’s office. It looked more like a five-star hotel suite than a place of work, all antique armoires and cashmere-covered cushions. No wonder with the fees he charged. All around the room, silver-framed photographs of his ridiculously photogenic family beamed perfect smiles at her. They looked like a toothpaste advertisement.

  “And their response was…?”

  “They’ve taken it under advisement.”

  Don Miller lost his temper. “Look, Mr. Farley. We’ve been through all this. You know what happened. You’ve seen Sasha’s evidence, her research files. The university’s doing nothing. What we want to know is, can you help us?”

  The lawyer sighed. “I’d like to, Mr. Miller. It does appear that Sasha has been very poorly treated by this chap. But the problem is, from what I’ve seen so far, it’s going to come down to a case of Sasha’s word against his.”

  I told you so.

  “What you really need are witnesses.” He turned to Sasha. “Was there anyone other than Dexter who observed you developing this theory? Anyone who could prove that you came up with it first? We’d need dates.”

  Sasha immediately thought of Harold Grier. “There was one person. But I don’t know if he’d want to get involved.”

  “Convince him,” said the lawyer. “That’s the best advice I can give you.”

  Fat chance, thought Sasha.

  “This is very bad for the college, Dexter. Very bad.” Anthony Greville, St. Michael’s master, stated the obvious. “In a few weeks the girl’s going to be here, beginning her third year. We’ll be overrun with reporters and cameramen. The Porters’ Lodge is already overwhelmed with calls from the tabloids.”

  “I know, Master. And I’m truly sorry, believe me. But Sasha’s the one stirring this up in the media, not me. I think we need to keep sight of the bigger picture here. My theory could change the very nature of our understanding of the universe. It’s huge. Huge. If we don’t let this scandal overshadow it, it could bring immense cachet to the college. Just think what an incredible fundraising tool that could be.”

  Anthony Greville thought about it. St. Michael’s, as ever, was in dire need of new funds. The chapel was not going to reroof itself. Trinity and St. John’s were both swimming in money, but the smaller St. Michael’s had always had to make do and mend. Perhaps Dexter’s theory could change all that? If one tiresome, sexmad undergraduate doesn’t ruin it for all of us.

  “What would you have me do, Theo? I can’t expel her and keep you here. How would that look? Especially since she’s still claiming you stole her work.”

  “Call an emergency session of the Regent House. You can chair it. Let the university decide whose theory this is.”

  �
��What good will that do?”

  “It will put an end to all this once and for all. But on your terms. If, God forbid, the congregation rules against me, I’ll resign and go back to America. If they don’t, then you’re free to expel Sasha. She’ll be out of St. Michael’s, out of Cambridge, out of all our lives.”

  “I’d just like her out of The News of the bloody World,” grumbled the master.

  “Once the case is closed the press will lose interest,” Theo assured him. “Especially when they start to realize just how seismic this theory is. If the college and the faculty back me, we can kill this thing. We want the same things, Master.”

  “Absolutely not.” Margaret Haines was livid. “Why the hell should I lie for that asshole?”

  “My dear Margaret. Is such fragrant language really necessary?” The master sat at his desk, radiating pomposity. “No one is asking you to lie. Merely to focus on the matter in hand and not encourage the Regent House to be distracted by, shall we say, the more salacious elements of this whole, sorry affair.”

  “You mean the fact that Dexter’s been boning his students, in clear violation of the university’s code of ethics? Sasha Miller wasn’t the first, you know.”

  “Be that as it may, this theory of Professor Dexter’s could prove extremely important. And not just to the scientific world. To the college.”

  Anthony Greville said this last as if it brooked all further conversation on the matter. Margaret Haines disagreed.

  “And what if it really was this young girl’s work? Have you considered that? What if she’s telling the truth and Dexter ripped her off?”

  “You can’t honestly believe that.”

  “Can’t I? Why not? We already know Dexter’s a liar with the morals of an alley cat and the discretion of a town crier.”

  “She’s an undergraduate.”

  “Yes, and by all accounts a brilliant one. Unlike your friend Professor Dexter. No, Master. I won’t be silenced on this. We should be backing the girl.”

  Anthony Greville’s eyes narrowed. He’d always lusted after Margaret Haines. He liked her feistiness and her sharp wit and the way her bosom jiggled underneath her sweater when she got agitated, as she was now. But if she threatened the reputation of St. Michael’s, he would have no compunction in getting rid of her.

  “The Senior Common Room are all in agreement. If you go against us on this, Margaret, your position here may become very difficult.”

  Margaret Haines looked at the squat, elderly toad sitting opposite her. Her contempt oozed from every pore. “Is that a threat, Anthony?”

  “Not at all, my dear. But as master I must think of the good of the entire college. Testifying on young Miss Miller’s behalf would not be in any of our best interest. Including yours. Think about that, Margaret.”

  Margaret Haines did speak up for Sasha. But it didn’t help. For one thing, the overwhelmingly male Regent House already knew that Theo Dexter was an inveterate womanizer who preyed on his prettier students, and they couldn’t have cared less. For another, by the time the Cambridge authorities finally sat down to hear evidence, Ed Gilliam had done such a thorough character assassination of Sasha in the press it was a wonder her own mother was still speaking to her.

  “TEENAGE LOLITA WRECKS GENIUS PROFESSOR’S MARRIAGE”

  “HOME-WRECKING FANTASIST STALKED DEXTER ‘FOR MONTHS’”

  Margaret’s only regret was having to add to poor Theresa Dexter’s anguish by publicly running through the litany of Theo’s student conquests. She needn’t have worried. Theresa didn’t believe a word of it.

  “I swear on my life, T, it isn’t true,” said Theo. “Margaret’s always had it in for me, the old battle-ax. She’s jealous of my success. She knows Sasha’s weakened me so she’s moving in for the kill.”

  After Margaret’s testimony, the court broke for an hour’s lunch. Not wanting to brave the hordes of press outside, Sasha and her family ate their sandwiches on a bench in the Senate House lobby. None of them spoke. It was pretty clear which way the congregation was leaning. It’s like the condemned man’s last meal, thought Sasha.

  And then Harold Grier showed up.

  Harold took his place on the dais. Anthony Greville, St. Michael’s master, was chairing proceedings. He read out some lines of Latin, and Harold replied.

  I’ll be gracious in victory, thought Sasha. I’m not interested in fame and glory. All I want is to be allowed to finish my research in peace.

  “Professor Grier, you worked as Miss Miller’s laboratory partner at the Cavendish during the Easter term, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Throughout the proceedings, Sasha had resisted the urge to look at Theo. A few short months ago, just the sight of him across a room would make her heart race. Now his proximity made her physically ill. He’s so fake. So vain and bland and…empty. What did I ever see in him? But as Harold Grier began his testimony, she couldn’t resist stealing a triumphant glance. I’ve got you now, you lying bastard.

  Feeling her gaze, Theo turned around. Sasha wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Fear, perhaps, at the prospect of his imminent exposure and disgrace? Guilt? Regret? Instead the look on her one-time lover’s face could only be described as…pity. That’s odd. Why would he feel sorry for me? He must know what’s coming. He must know Grier’s testimony is going to blow his case out of the water.

  Harold Grier was talking. “She was very excited about working with Professor Dexter. She told me she felt inspired by him, and fortunate to have him as a supervisor.”

  “And how familiar were you with Miss Miller’s research work?”

  “Very familiar. We worked together over a period of weeks. It was an exciting time.”

  “You recognized the importance of the work she was doing?”

  “Oh yes. Absolutely. And so did she. As I say, she was thrilled Professor Dexter had given her the opportunity to work with him on it. Not many undergraduates would have been given such a chance.”

  Sasha cocked her head to one side. Had she misheard him?

  Anthony Greville leaned forward eagerly in his seat. “Miss Miller implied to you that the theory was, in fact, Professor Dexter’s? That he had invited her to assist him?”

  No!

  “Yes. Well, she didn’t imply it. She was quite explicit about it.”

  “That’s not true!” Sasha was on her feet, yelling from the gallery. The black-robed figures of the Regent House glared at her as one.

  “Sit down please, Miss Miller, or I will have to ask you to leave.”

  “But he’s lying! Tell them the truth, Harold, for God’s sake!”

  Sue Miller took her daughter’s hand and pulled her physically down into her seat. “It won’t help, love,” she whispered. Sasha sat down.

  Harold Grier kept talking, calmly, rationally, convincingly. Every word was a bullet in Sasha’s heart. She was too stunned to take in much of the master’s summing up, but the few words that sank in left no room for doubt…tragic, unnecessary case…slanderous claims…overwhelming evidence to suggest…confused, troubled young woman…

  The black-robed men began filing out. All around Sasha, people were on their feet. She tried to stand up, but her legs had turned to water. Her dad put an arm around her waist. “It’s all right, Sash. Let’s go home.”

  It wasn’t all right.

  Outside the Senate House, King’s Parade was choked with reporters. Theo Dexter stood on the steps, hand in hand with his wife, holding court. “No, I don’t feel victorious,” he told the Times correspondent. “I’m relieved this is over. I’m relieved I can get back to work. I’m heartbroken at the pain I’ve caused my wife.” He looked at Theresa, his eyes welling with tears.

  “How do you feel about Sasha Miller?” another journalist shouted. “Will you be pursuing any legal action against her?”

  Theo shook his head magnanimously. “I think it’s clear that Miss Miller is a gravely troubled young person. I have no desire for vengeance. I wish
her the best, and I hope her family are able to get her the help she needs.”

  As he finished speaking, Sasha emerged from the building, propped up like a drunk between her bewildered parents.

  “Are you going to make any statement, Sasha?”

  “Will you be going back to St. Michael’s?”

  “The university has asked for a formal retraction. Any comment on that?”

  “No comment!” Don Miller roared. It was like walking through a pack of wolves. “Get the hell away from my daughter.”

  “Are you sorry, Sasha?”

  Sasha looked up. Am I sorry? Yes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ever laid eyes on Theo Dexter. I’m sorry I put my family through this. I’m sorry that none of you can open your eyes and see the truth.

  The mob followed her to the car. Cameras clattered against the sides of Don’s rickety Volvo as the family drove away. Sasha stared out the window at the colleges, their towers and steeples and portcullises bathed in late-afternoon light. She remembered the day she had first arrived at St. Michael’s, full of hope and promise and excitement, her head full of thoughts of Will Temple, the boy she’d left back home. It was only two years ago. But it felt like a lifetime.

  That girl is gone forever, thought Sasha.

  She knew she would never return to Cambridge again.

  It was almost midnight before Theo had a chance to call Ed Gilliam. What with all the press to deal with, and the celebratory drinks party at the Masters’ Lodge, followed by a romantic, thank-you-for-standing-by-me supper with Theresa, he hadn’t had a second alone since the verdict.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  Gilliam laughed. “Not likely. I’m so wired I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.”

  “So come on, put me out of my misery. How did you do it?”

  “Harold Grier, you mean?”

  “When I saw him after recess I thought we were sunk. How did you get him to change his mind?”