Doctor January

by Rhoda Baxter

  ‘What’s that?’ Roger’s voice in her ear made her jump.

  Beth tried to stuff the documents into her bag, but Roger grabbed it out of her hands. He lifted the photo and looked at the text underneath. ‘I heard there was some calendar being done. I didn’t realise you were involved.’ He looked at her and back at the document in his hand. ‘What exactly is your role in all this?’

  ‘I’m … helping out a bit. Nothing major.’ She would have tried to move away, but the pigeonholes took up a lot of room, making the corridor very narrow at that point. There was no way she was going to get round Roger.

  ‘And how much of your time are you wasting on this project?’

  ‘None. I’m still working the same hours as before. I have been working nights a lot lately.’ Did Hibs have to justify his time like this? Or perhaps being a postdoc was a job whereas being a PhD student was more of a lifestyle choice.

  ‘Hmm.’ Roger stared thoughtfully at the guy in the photo. ‘So, what sort of people are you looking for? For this calendar.’

  ‘Men with PhDs in science,’ she began. Beth eyed Roger. He was okay-looking for a middle-aged guy. He was certainly in better shape than the guy his wife had run off with. She had a creeping suspicion of what was coming next. ‘I’m not sure, but I think there’s an age cut-off of thirty-five.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, it’s meant to attract girls into science, in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way. So the … er … committee decided it was best to have an upper age limit. Keep the models young. You know.’

  Roger frowned. ‘Sounds very short-sighted. George Clooney is an older man and very popular.’

  Beth nodded. ‘True.’ Any minute now Roger was going to ask if he could be in the calendar. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but … she cast another glance at him. Please don’t ask. Please don’t ask.

  ‘Would you like me to …’

  Oh no. Too late. If she let on that she had any role in the decision, Roger would lean on her. She didn’t want any more reasons for conflict between them. ‘You could send your photo in. The committee won’t be deciding for another couple of days.’

  ‘Surely I don’t need to do that. You know me.’

  Beth shook her head. ‘I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I don’t get to decide. The others do that.’

  Roger gave her a suspicious look. Vik appeared round the corner, carrying a sandwich. ‘Hi.’ He looked from Roger to Beth. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Roger thrust the papers back towards Beth. ‘Beth was just telling me about her stupid calendar idea.’

  ‘Why is it stupid?’ Vik looked genuinely puzzled. ‘I thought it sounded like fun.’

  Beth lowered her head. If she looked up now, she would laugh.

  ‘Trying to attract women into science by parading men at them. It’s ridiculous.’

  ‘It’s no sillier than Miss World,’ said Beth, fighting to keep her voice steady.

  ‘Yes, well, if I’d suggested doing a calendar with some young women scientists in it, there’d be uproar.’

  ‘What would that achieve? We don’t need to attract more men into science,’ said Beth. ‘There are plenty already.’

  Roger snorted. ‘I don’t suppose there are that many attractive female scientists anyway,’ he said.

  ‘Hey, I resent that,’ said Beth.

  ‘You don’t count. You’re not a real scientist until you have your PhD.’ Roger turned away. ‘I have a lecture to prepare.’

  ‘Mind you,’ said Vik, his face all innocence. ‘The calendar could help attract young gay men to the profession too.’

  Roger paused. ‘I think you two should stop messing around and get back to work.’ He went into his office and slammed the door.

  Beth shook her head and went into the lab. She would have preferred not to hurt Roger’s feelings. He could be a total pain, but that was probably because he was lonely. She felt a little bit bad for being mean to him.

  As she was heading to her bench, the phone rang.

  ‘Beth, it’s Anna.’

  ‘Hey, what’s up?’ She started to roll up her sleeves, the phone tucked by her shoulder.

  ‘Have you had any more entries come through for the calendar?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘Any good?’

  Beth picked up the photo from her desk and looked at it again. ‘Not bad. How about you?’

  ‘I’ve had a few, but I don’t think we’ve got enough for a calendar’

  ‘How many have we got?’

  ‘I’ve had about twenty e-mails, but not many suitable ones. At a push, seven maybe. That’s assuming your new one’s any good.’

  Beth felt that was a little unfair – perhaps Anna was setting the bar too high. ‘So, what are we going to do? We need to get started soon or we won’t be able to get it done in time for the next meeting. Clarissa will have a field day.’

  ‘There’s nothing else for it. We’ll have to keep an eye out for fit men and ask them if they’ll take part.’

  ‘We can’t do that. We’ll look like nutters. They’ll probably call the police.’ Beth thought of Roger’s animosity. ‘I don’t think that would go down too well with my supervisor. I’m on thin ice as it is.’

  ‘Well, I’ll do it then. Just make sure you have your camera with you at all times.’

  Beth shifted the phone to her other shoulder. She didn’t like the idea of taking people’s photos without asking. ‘We’ll have to get their permission.’

  ‘You can get them to agree after you’ve taken the shot. You can always show them you’re deleting them if they say no.’

  It still didn’t sound right. ‘I don’t know, Anna. There must be another way. Is there an advertising avenue we’ve missed?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’ve even been hawking it around on Twitter. That got me some obscene messages, I can tell you. That’s after I specified that they had to be wearing clothes.’

  Beth sighed. ‘Okay. When do you want to start interviewing the people you’ve already got on the list?’ She heard Roger’s footsteps. ‘I’ve got to go, Anna. See you later.’ She rang off and turned round.

  ‘Still not doing any work, Miss Tyler?’ He emphasised ‘Miss’ as though it were an insult.

  ‘I am, thanks,’ said Beth. ‘Can I help you with anything?’

  ‘I’m looking for Hibs, actually.’

  ‘He won’t be in until later today. He did the late shift last night.’ Beth gathered up some papers.

  ‘Late shift?’

  ‘We’re taking it in turns to work nights, as I mentioned earlier. We’re running two sets of experiments in parallel so that we can use both microscopes at once. At night.’

  ‘What sort of experiments?’

  ‘Time courses. We’re looking at how the GFP-tagged proteins behave over time.’

  Roger folded his arms. ‘I asked you to concentrate on repeating the tests you did before.’

  ‘I’m doing those as well.’ She was finding it surprisingly easy to work in the night, when the lab was quiet. As long as she’d set her bacterial cultures growing the day before, so that they were ready by the evening, she could get on with the experiments without interruptions from anyone. She rather enjoyed it.

  Roger snorted. ‘Just make sure you have the results I want ready in time.’

  ‘I will. Don’t worry.’ Seeing him turn to go, she added, ‘How can you be so sure that my hypothesis is wrong?’ Was she missing something obvious? Some key fact that Roger knew but she had overlooked?

  ‘Because if you’ve been doing this stuff as long as I have, you have a good understanding of the background work. Your protein will not make any difference to the way the tagged proteins localise. It looks like a signalling pro
tein, not a structural protein.’ Roger glared at her. ‘I don’t expect you to know everything, Beth, but I expect a basic understanding of the fundamentals. Clearly, you don’t even have that. I don’t know why I bothered taking you on as a PhD student. It looks bad on me when you fail.’ He turned and walked off.

  Beth stared at Roger’s retreating back, too astounded to speak. To criticise her science was one thing, but to attack her personally like that? It just wasn’t on.

  Vik came up from the far end of the lab. ‘Harsh.’

  Beth leaned against the desk. ‘Yeah.’ What was it about her that got Roger’s back up like that? Was it simply that she was a woman? Or was there more to it than that? She looked up at Vik. ‘Do you ever get this sort of thing from Roger?’

  ‘What? Abuse?’ said Vik. ‘No.’ He paused. ‘At least, not as much as you do.’

  Beth shook her head. ‘If I was wasting time, Hibs would have said.’

  Vik shrugged. ‘I should think so.’

  Beth stared thoughtfully at the floor. Roger was entitled to his opinion, but there was no excuse for his behaviour. How much trouble would she get into if she made a complaint about bullying? She could count on some people from WIS to support her. Hibs would back her up too. Except … her PhD rested in Roger’s hands. He could really mess with her chances of completing it. She’d put up with it for this long, so maybe she would be better off just sticking it out until the end of the year, when she could write up and get her PhD.

  ‘Hey,’ Vik said. ‘Cheer up. He’s probably just sore that you didn’t ask him to be in your calendar.’

  Beth gave him a grateful smile. She didn’t believe it for a moment, but it was nice of Vik to say so. ‘Thanks, Vik.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better get on with some work.’

  Hibs’s phone rang and the caller ID flashed up ‘Mrs Tait’, though she much preferred for him to call her Winifred. He’d put her in his phone as Mrs Tait twelve years ago, when he’d started doing her gardening in the summer holidays, and had never changed it. He tugged off his gloves to answer it.

  ‘James, darling. How are you?’ Winifred Tait’s voice was quiet and businesslike.

  ‘I’m fine, Winn. To what do I owe the pleasure?’

  ‘I’m in the area next Tuesday. I was wondering if you’d join me for a spot of lunch. My treat, naturally.’

  Hibs hesitated. Lunch invites from Mrs Tait were always more than they seemed. He didn’t mind when he was at home, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to mix the two worlds.

  ‘Just lunch. No strings attached,’ Winn added.

  Hibs imagined her sitting in her office, in that big chair that reclined all the way back. No strings. She always said that. He didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to, but Winifred Tait, the most glamorous woman he knew, was taking him to lunch, in a hotel where she had a room for the night, no doubt. No strings. Unless he wanted there to be.

  ‘Lunch would be lovely, Winn. When and where shall I meet you?’

  ‘I’ve heard Le Manoir is good. Stockton says traffic in the city centre is dreadful, so where do you suggest we pick you up? I’ll be coming from Lechlade.’

  Le Manoir! Winn liked to do things in style.

  They arranged a time and place for her driver to pick him up. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ He genuinely meant it. He got on well with Winifred and he missed talking to her. They hadn’t intended to keep in touch once he went to university, but they still met from time to time. Over the years, they’d become friends.

  ‘Me too, darling; me too.’ He could tell from her voice that she was smiling. ‘I’ll see you next week. And, James, wear a suit.’

  ‘Will do.’ He hung up. If anyone could help take his mind off Beth, it would be Winn. And lunch at Le Manoir was too good to miss. He hummed to himself as he went back to work.

  Anna, Lara and Beth met in the staff club for lunch to compare the entries for the calendar and even Beth had to reluctantly agree that they were struggling to fill it. It wasn’t so much that the men weren’t good-looking – they were – but there just weren’t that many entries. A few guys who were still students had entered: they were disqualified regardless of how gorgeous they were.

  Soon they were left with a small selection of photos. They spread them out on the table.

  ‘Not bad,’ said Lara. ‘I’d say we’ve got ten, at best. We need a couple more.’

  ‘Roger wanted to enter,’ said Beth and Lara laughed. ‘I told him I didn’t decide who went in the calendar. You did.’

  Lara put her head to one side. ‘You do get a say in it, you know.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can choose between these guys. They’re all gorgeous and every single one would photograph well. I’m happy for you guys to choose.’

  ‘If you had to take just one of them home tonight, which one would you choose?’ said Anna.

  Beth refused to rise to the bait. Anna was seeing this whole thing as an extended dating service, while Beth was more interested in the photographs than the men. She should have been interested in the men, she supposed, but really none of them appealed. She shrugged. ‘They’re all nice, I’m sure, but I’m not particularly interested in any of them’.

  ‘Is that because none of them is Gordon? You said you were moving on,’ said Lara.

  ‘I am!’ Why did they not believe her?

  ‘Well, you’re not moving very fast …’

  ‘It’s not like I’ve had lots of opportunity,’ Beth protested. ‘I’ve been working most evenings. I don’t exactly have a chance to go out.’

  ‘Working. As in hanging out with the gorgeous Hibs.’ Anna grinned.

  Beth rolled her eyes and Lara laughed. Anna said, ‘Honestly, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed him. Seriously? Are you blind?’

  ‘No,’ said Beth. ‘I just don’t get what you see in him.’ She started to gather up the bits of paper. Since Anna had started going on about him, she had started to really look at Hibs. He was kind and caring, she already knew that. What she hadn’t realised was that he was also slim and elegant in a streamlined sort of a way. She preferred her men more muscular, like Gordon. But she had to admit slim and elegant was attractive too.

  ‘Huh,’ said Anna. ‘This Gordon must have been something incredible.’

  Beth ignored the comment and said, ‘Shall we sort out the photos and interviews for the guys we’ve got? Maybe some other candidates will turn up in the next couple of weeks.’ Thankfully, Lara had squashed Anna’s idea of accosting random people in the street.

  ‘I don’t see that we have much choice,’ said Lara.

  ‘Well, he was interesting,’ said Beth. ‘Once he put his clothes back on.’

  She and Anna were walking back across the Museum Garden after visiting one of the men for the calendar. Despite their best efforts at clarity, he had answered the door wearing nothing but a dressing gown, which he’d dropped when Beth picked up her camera. Following a hasty explanation, and a few minutes standing outside in the corridor trying not to laugh hysterically while he made himself decent, Anna had interviewed him, flirting outrageously all the while and Beth had taken a few photos. His office had been in one of the lovely old buildings, so she’d had lots of light from the tall windows. She was quietly pleased with the results. They had shown the photos to the guy and he’d asked for a copy to put on his personal webpage.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Anna. ‘He was. And he gave me his number. Bonus – did you see the size of his—’

  ‘I didn’t look!’ Beth said. ‘And you’re still not supposed to hit on the candidates.’

  Anna waved a hand. ‘It’d be such a waste not to.’

  They walked along for a moment, each busy with their own thoughts. It was pleasant and cool under the trees and Beth was in no particular hurry to get back to the lab. Suddenly, som
ething thumped down from a large tree ahead and someone swore from up in the branches.

  Anna and Beth paused and looked at each other. Beth undid the case on her camera and got it ready, just in case. A leg appeared from the tree, and then there was a grunt as a man swung down, his body hanging from well-muscled arms before he dropped to the ground.

  Beth took a series of photos as the man stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. He looked suspiciously at them. He had a shock of black hair and sideburns that framed a handsome face with startling blue eyes.

  ‘Er … hi,’ said Anna.

  ‘Did you just take a photo of me?’ He glared at Beth’s camera.

  ‘Yes. Would you like to see?’ She turned it around to show him. ‘I’m Beth. This is Anna. We’re working on a calendar of attractive men in science. You don’t happen to have a PhD in a scientific discipline, do you?’ She scrolled through the pictures. Even at first glance some of them looked very dramatic.

  ‘Dr Dan Blackwood,’ he said and held out a big hand to Beth and then Anna.

  ‘Would you like to be in the calendar?’ Anna asked. ‘I think you’d make a fantastic Dr August.’

  Dan Blackwood looked taken aback. ‘I’d heard about this. It sounds very enterprising, but I don’t think my wife would approve.’

  ‘Why ever not,’ said Anna. ‘It’s not like we’re making a “free and single” calendar. It’ll be nice to have some married men in it to show that scientists aren’t sad cases who can’t find a partner. We could mention your wife in the blurb.’

  Dan looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not sure …’

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t you check with your wife and let us know. If she says no, we promise we’ll delete the photos we took of you,’ said Anna. ‘I’ll write you a note to say so, if you like. Like an IOU.’

  ‘I suppose …’

  ‘Can I ask a few questions, while we’ve got you here?’

  He shrugged. The piece of equipment that had fallen from the tree lay nearby. He picked it up and examined it. ‘I think it’s okay.’