by Rhoda Baxter
‘Right.’ Winn nodded slowly and took a sip of wine. ‘Perhaps she needs someone to help her move on. Why don’t you …’
Hibs sighed. ‘That’s the problem. I can’t,’ he said.
‘What do you mean, you can’t? You’ve never had any trouble approaching girls before? I’ve heard all about your exploits at the hunt ball, young man. I know you’re not shy.’
‘It’s not the same. Beth is … she’s special. When she looks at me properly …’ He thought about her compliment as he’d left the lab. ‘Like today, she said I looked nice in my suit and I was so happy I didn’t know what to say. It was like I was a twelve-year-old bag of hormones again. I don’t know what’s happening to me. It’s ridiculous.’
‘Oh, James.’ Winn shook her head. ‘Darling boy, you’re in love. That’s all.’
He frowned. He knew that, but was it so obvious to everyone else? Was everyone laughing at him? Did Beth know? What did she think of him if she did?
‘Let’s see.’ She leaned forward and put her perfectly manicured fingers together. ‘Everything you see reminds you of her. If she says something remotely personal, you analyse it over and over until you don’t know what it means any more. You could have anything in the whole world, but nothing would compare to one small smile from her. You’re in love.’
‘How come you know so much about it?’
She pulled a face. ‘I was in love once, you know,’ she said. ‘A long time ago now.’
‘With whom?’ He knew it wasn’t him. There were other conquests though; perhaps it was one of them.
‘Oh, you know how it is. Gold-digger meets sugar daddy. Gold-digger marries sugar daddy. Gold-digger falls in love with sugar daddy.’
‘You were in love with old man Tait?’
‘Oh don’t look so horrified, darling. Reginald Tait was one of the kindest, gentlest, funniest, most intelligent men I’ve ever met. Not the sort I’d normally go for physically, but as soul mates go, there was never anyone more perfect.’ She touched the wedding ring she still wore on her finger. ‘I loved him more than I thought possible. And when he died … When he died, I was lonely.’ She smiled. ‘And you, of all people, know how a lonely widow gets her kicks.’
Hibs gaped, still thinking about old man Tait. He couldn’t remember much beyond the smell of cigars and a funeral. ‘Er … right.’
‘Anyway, darling, back to your problem. You’re in love with this girl and you find your legendary charm has deserted you when you need it most.’
Hibs nodded. ‘I can talk and joke with her like normal. It’s just that I’m afraid to come on to her like I would with any other girl. I don’t want her to think she’s just another … She’s special.’
‘Well, why don’t you ask her out?’
Hibs thought about it. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘She might just laugh in my face and then I’ll have ruined the friendship we have.’
‘Is that what you’re afraid of?’
‘Yes. I think it is.’
‘Hmm …’ Winn frowned and took a sip of her drink. ‘I hate to tell you this, darling, but if you don’t at least try to ask this girl out, you’re going to end up losing her.’
Hibs tapped a forefinger thoughtfully on the table. ‘But what if she turns me down?’
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. ‘You never know until you try.’
Chapter Seven
Hibs changed out of his suit before he returned to the lab for the evening. He took his time getting there: spring was bursting into summer and the city was beautiful. He spent so much time rushing between work, home and dojo that it was nice to be able to savour the outdoors. It also gave him space to think.
The Biochemistry building loomed ahead, the concrete turning orange in the evening glow. Beth had sent him a text to say she’d set up the microscopes for him so it was all ready for him to take photos of the bacteria every four hours. They worked well together, him and Beth.
Hibs touched his card to the sensor and let himself into the building. Night time security was faintly irritating. An hour earlier he would have been able to just walk in. Now he needed to beep his way through several safety doors.
He tramped up the stairs rather than take the lift and when he got to the lab, he was surprised to see that Beth was still there. ‘Hello,’ he said, as he hung up his coat. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I work here,’ she said, not looking up. ‘How was your lunch?’
‘Very nice.’
‘Did the old lady make you pay for your meal in kind?’
‘No. It was a no-strings-attached lunch with a friend. That’s all.’ He pulled on his lab coat. ‘Seriously, what are you doing here? Didn’t you trust me to come back in time to do the readings?’
Beth finally turned round. ‘I promised Lara I’d get the calendar mocked up with the photos that we have.’ She turned back to the computer. ‘I’m nearly done. I’ll be heading off in a few minutes.’
Hibs glanced at the screen, which had a headshot of some bloke on it. ‘I’ll go look at the bacteria. Back in a minute.’
The microscopes were set up so that a small number of bacteria were framed by the viewing window. Hibs used the computer to run through light flashes at different frequencies, and then waited for the protein to glow. When the glowing images appeared, he photographed them and e-mailed them to the lab. By taking photos of these cells at regular intervals, they could use time-lapse images to see how the glowing patches moved as the cells grew and multiplied.
Once he was back in the light, he peeled off his gloves and washed his hands thoughtfully.
He had no real excuse for not admitting to Beth how he felt. He kept telling himself that the time wasn’t right, but the real reason was that he was scared. Scared of her rejecting him. Scared of losing the friendship that had grown so comfortable. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Beth was acting more normally now and seemed to be getting over Gordon. Why not now?
‘Come on, Hibs,’ he muttered to himself as he took the stairs two at a time. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’
Beth dropped the final photo, cropped and perfectly framed, into the calendar template and rubbed her eyes. It was getting late. Technically, it was her night off from the experiments, but Anna was out and she didn’t fancy sitting in the flat by herself.
She did one last check before saving the file. The guys looked good. There were eleven men now. Anna was still on the hunt for the last one. Beth had done her best to capture them as handsome and sexy, without diminishing them to mere models. Some of the men were photographed in their offices, a couple in their labs. Her favourite was still the one of Dan Blackwood, in the act of landing on the ground, his blue eyes glaring straight into the camera like some sort of chino-wearing Tarzan.
Idly she flicked back to the folder of photos, scrolling through them. She was pleased with her work. In the privacy of her own mind, she admitted that they were good, very good. She hadn’t lost her touch: if anything, her eye for detail had matured since she’d last taken photos seriously. She couldn’t believe she’d let her interest drop like that. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.
Beth paused at the photos of Hibs that she’d taken in jest. It was a shame he didn’t want to be in the calendar, because he was so photogenic. In most of the pictures he was ignoring the camera in a slightly self-conscious manner. She scrolled though more images, and suddenly there was one where he wasn’t looking away. He looked out of the screen at her, brow slightly furrowed, his lips parted as though he was in the middle of word.
She stared.
It was Hibs, but different. It was as though some of the familiarity had been stripped away, leaving behind a beautifully defined face with high cheekbones and serious grey eyes. Was this really the guy she worked next to and joked with every day?
; Perhaps this was what Anna saw when she looked at him. Beth clicked ahead to the next image and the regular Hibs was back, looking reassuringly like his normal self. Beth flicked between the photos. Sexy. Normal. Sexy. Normal. Sexy. He was very good-looking – how the hell had she not noticed before? Had being with Gordon made her blind or something?
The sound of footsteps made her jump. She quickly closed down the album, just as Hibs walked in the door.
‘Haven’t you got a home to go to?’ He went over to his desk and wrote something down.
‘I was just finishing off.’
‘Let’s have a look.’ He leaned on the desk next to her and suddenly she was very conscious of how close he was. She felt blood rush to her cheeks and hoped he didn’t notice she was blushing. She pulled up the file.
‘Those are really good,’ said Hibs. He punched her gently on the shoulder. ‘Well done, Tyler. If you ever decide to give up on science, you’ve got a promising career as a photographer.’
Beth sighed. ‘Yeah. Good job too, the way things are going.’
Hibs frowned, moved some papers and sat on the desk. ‘What do you mean? Something upsetting you? Beth?’
Beth rolled her chair back, so that there was distance between them. She still felt hot and flustered. This sudden new awareness of Hibs was disconcerting. ‘No. Nothing really. I just sometimes wonder whether Roger’s right.’
‘About what?’
‘About me not being a very good scientist. He’s told before me that I only got the studentship because he couldn’t have his first choice. I find it all really hard. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.’
Hibs shook his head. ‘You’re looking at it the wrong way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Okay, first of all. You’re doing a PhD: of course it’s hard. It’s bloody meant to be. Otherwise every stupid Herman off the street would do one. Since you’re doing something difficult, it’s going to be difficult. It doesn’t mean you’re failing at it.’ Hibs counted off on his long fingers. ‘Second of all, so Roger says you were his second choice. You see it as you not being good enough to be his first choice. What it also means is that Roger’s first choice got a better offer and turned Roger down. Third of all …’ He lowered his voice. ‘Roger’s a tosser.’
Beth stared at the rectangle of black window behind Hibs. ‘I guess,’ she said. ‘But what about my results? Why are they so inconclusive?’
Hibs shrugged. ‘Because bacteria are little buggers. If we knew what results we were going to get, we wouldn’t call it research.’
Beth shook her head. Hibs was always so sure of himself. She wished she had even half that amount of self-assurance. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. Working late every other night was taking its toll already. She stifled a yawn.
‘Go home,’ said Hibs. ‘Get some sleep. You look knackered.’ He pushed away from the desk. ‘I would offer to do an extra night tomorrow, but I’ve got to take my class to their tournament.’
‘Do you think you’ll win?’
‘No idea,’ said Hibs. ‘They’ve been working very hard, so it would be a shame if they didn’t.’
‘How can you be so calm? I’d be a nervous wreck.’ Beth shook her head. ‘How come nothing ever ruffles you?’
‘Because I’m worth it.’ He grinned and pretended to flick his hair back.
Beth laughed. ‘You mean you’re so laid-back because of shampoo?’
Hibs rolled his eyes. ‘No. I mean I’m so laid-back because I believe in my own worth.’ He waved a hand. ‘Let me give you an example. When you told your parents you were going to do a PhD, what did they say?’
Beth winced. ‘You know what they said.’ He knew, because she’d told him.
‘Tell me again.’
‘My dad said I was wasting my time doing a PhD because I’d never manage it and I was trying too hard to look clever.’
Hibs pulled a face. ‘Nice man, your dad.’
‘He doesn’t mean it like that. He’s had to fight to get where he is today. He just doesn’t see things the way other people do.’ And he wanted a son who could take on the family business and build stuff, not a daughter who decided to go and work in a lab doing things he didn’t understand.
Hibs narrowed his eyes and looked about to comment. Then he shook his head. ‘Okay. So, let’s just say he wasn’t supportive. Yet here you are. Doing a PhD and still on speaking terms with your father. How come?’
‘I persuaded him that it would lead to a better job later. I showed him some stats from somewhere that showed PhDs got better salaries.’
‘So what does that tell you? You saw a problem and you worked out how to get round it.’ Hibs leaned forward. ‘You should have more faith in yourself.’
Beth looked at her feet. She wasn’t so sure. What her father had actually said was, ‘Fine, go ahead. Don’t come back to me asking for money when you can’t find a real job.’ Not exactly a ringing endorsement.
Hibs slid off the desk and she could feel the change in the air as he moved. She looked up to find him crouched in front of her; her gaze met his eyes. They seemed to be looking right into her.
‘You shouldn’t undervalue yourself, Beth. You’re clever, you’re talented and you’re beautiful. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.’
Beth felt like she was falling into his eyes. He was so near she could smell his shampoo. Her gaze drifted down to his lips – he had nice lips; they looked as if they’d be soft if she were to kiss them. Then she noticed that he’d stopped speaking. What had he just said? In a panic, she looked up, only to meet his eyes again. She looked away. What was wrong with her? This was ridiculous. She’d known this man for years. He was her friend. She really shouldn’t be fantasising about kissing him. That’s what other women did with Hibs. She didn’t want to be reduced to one of them.
‘I’ve got to go.’ She stood up abruptly, making Hibs fall backwards. Grabbing her coat, she turned to see him standing up, dusting his hands on his jeans.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to …’ She backed away from him as she pulled her coat on.
‘No harm done.’ He was frowning. He took a step towards her.
Beth snatched her bag off the desk. If he came near her again she might just cave in and try to kiss him or something. That would be wrong. Just wrong. ‘You’re right. I need to get to bed.’ Did that sound suggestive? ‘By myself. To sleep, I mean.’ That was worse. ‘Bye.’ She turned and fled.
‘Beth!’
She was halfway down the corridor when Hibs shouted out to her. She paused, half turned. He stood in the doorway to the lab, looking impossibly tall and beautiful. Beth felt her pulse in her throat.
‘I won’t be in tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Tournament, remember.’
‘Oh. Right. Okay.’
Beth took advantage of the pause to get to the end of the corridor. She ran down the stairs and out. Once she got to her bike, she put her cycle helmet on and rested her head against the brickwork. This was insane. She had just run away from poor Hibs. All he’d done was try to be nice to her and she’d come over all flustered like some sort of great big idiot. She groaned. She’d just run out with no explanation and she hadn’t even wished him luck for his tournament. ‘Bugger.’
In the lab, Hibs swore. That hadn’t gone well. He’d come on too strong and frightened her off. Returning to the desks, he noticed Beth’s computer was on. A touch of the mouse brought up pictures of the guys on the calendar. Hibs shook his head and logged Beth off the computer.
He was busy checking his e-mail when a text arrived.
Sorry about before. I’m a bit tired, that’s all. Good luck with the tournament tomorrow.
Hibs stared at his phone. Right. So what did that mean? He tapped his fingers on the desk. Beth had obviously decided that she wasn’t quite
as freaked out as she was initially. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Beth’s image sprang into his head: her eyes wide, the way her gaze flicked between his eyes and his lips. He had been too close. She’d thought he was going to kiss her. Which had frightened her. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to be more careful with Beth. He couldn’t just come on to her like any other girl. She knew him better than anyone. He had to take it much more slowly. If he moved too quickly he risked losing the comfortable connection he had with her and might alienate her completely.
Thanks. Sorry if I upset you. Didn’t mean to.
He put the phone down and started saving image files, ready for analysing later. His phone beeped again. It was Beth.
No. My fault. Not enough sleep, I reckon. Sorry again.
Don’t worry about it. Night night.
Night night.
Hibs stared at the phone for a few minutes before he put it away. There was something nice about a goodnight text. Like a virtual kiss on the cheek. He caught himself mid-thought. What a load of crap. She was going to bed. That was all. He was just being a soppy arse.
He put the phone in his pocket and went back to saving files. He was still smiling.
Chapter Eight
The following night, Beth was working downstairs on the microscope when the text arrived. Not wanting to risk jogging the microscope slide, she ignored it.
Once she got back to her own lab, she dug out her phone to check the message.
We won! Celebratory drinks in the Queen’s Head. Shld be getting there around 7.
She smiled. Hibs sounded happy; he had been training his ‘kids’ hard. She leaned out from her desk to shout down the lab to Vik, who was still finishing off his work. ‘Hibs and the gang won. They’ll be in the Queen’s Head later. You going?’
Vik appeared at the end of his bench, pulling off his gloves. ‘Of course. I can’t not congratulate my buddy on his win.’
