Watermark

by E. J. Kay

  Joseph sat down next to a large glass case that contained a collection of archaeological remains. Of particular value and interest in this display was a Bronze Age sword that had been discovered in an excavation at Flag Fen in Cambridgeshire. It was an elegant elongated teardrop shape that came to a sharp point and had clearly been a valuable item in its own time. The mud of the fen had preserved it in remarkable condition, and it showed how later Bronze Age craftsmen had extended the blade of a sword to form a tang that would have been the basis for a handle. Making the handle part of the blade made the sword much stronger and less likely to break; points of attachment are points of weakness. Making an offering to the water must have been an exceptionally important act for someone to give up a sword as precious as this. It had been ritually presented to the water by the side of a wooden causeway that had been constructed across marshland around three thousand five hundred years ago. The sword had been excavated from the fen during an English Heritage dig in the mid-1980s and ritually presented once again; this time to the University of the North West of England on receiving its charter in 1992. Joseph had taken part in the Flag Fen explorations as part of his research at Birmingham University, working on his PhD in paleobiology, and he always looked at the sword with great fondness whenever he came to the executive office.

  Mary stirred him from his thoughts and ushered him into Juliet’s office. It wasn’t particularly spacious, considering she was the dean of the faculty. It was a bit of a squeeze to fit her desk, a meeting table and five chairs in the same room as all her bookshelves and travel mementos. Plaster casts of ancient primate skulls had pride of place in a glass cabinet, together with stone hand axes and flint arrowheads, and the walls of her office were hung with photographs going back more than twenty years. Some were of her in shorts and T-shirts, kneeling in dusty holes. Others were of smarter occasions; international conferences and foreign government seminars.

  “Thanks for coming, Joseph. Please do have a seat. So,” she said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk and steeple her slender hands, “Alec returns this afternoon. It’s going to be quite an occasion. I expect the press to be out in some force at the airport.”

  “It’s going to be a great day for him, and for the university too, don’t you think?” Joseph replied.

  Juliet leaned back, her hands still steepled. “I think what he has achieved is remarkable. The most complete and best preserved hominin fossil remains ever found.” She paused. “And in such an interesting context.”

  Ah, here it comes, he thought.

  “He is, of course, very excited about the location of the fossils,” Juliet continued. “As he favours the hypothesis that water played such an important role in human evolution, it’s clearly a highly relevant find for him. But I think that we need to be careful about jumping to any sudden conclusions, particularly when it comes to handling the popular press.”

  Joseph liked Juliet, but she certainly could be pompous at times. “I thought he came over very well on his Radio Four interview,” he said, with a wry smile. “It sounded quite measured, for Alec. Although perhaps the poor telephone link to Kenya helped to take the edge off his voice.”

  Juliet became more agitated. “Yes, well, he’s less measured on his blog. I have also been interviewed by the press whilst Alec has been on the excavation, and it was very difficult to achieve the necessary balance. I want to support Alec, and to help the university to make the most of this find, but I cannot outwardly support what many scientists in the field, including myself, still consider to be a crackpot theory. Although I largely trust the Guardian, as far as I trust any newspaper, they clearly wanted to play up the ‘theory proved’ angle. This is serious Joseph. Our research funding comes to us in direct proportion to our reputation and some of Alec’s blog postings have been making what amount to claims of proof of the aquatic ape hypothesis.”

  “He does sometimes get carried away,” agreed Joseph. “I don’t think he really considers the readers of his blog – he sees it as more of a personal diary. But then he never considers anyone else anyway. Other people aren’t Alec’s strong suit. But, sorry Juliet, what do you want me to do about this?”

  “You are one of the few people Alec listens to. I know you’ve known each other for some time and that he was your student at Birmingham. Alec followed you here to UNWE too, so it’s clear he values your friendship. I’m just asking you to try to get him to see that we need to proceed carefully here. For everyone’s good.”

  Particularly for your good, thought Joseph. “I’ll have a discreet word with him and see if I can get him to understand.”

  “He had better understand, or things will not go well for him!”

  Juliet was more agitated than Joseph had ever seen her before. He found it disconcerting, and made a move to get up. “OK, I’ll have a word with him. Sorry, but I need to get back to prep for my tutorial group. I’ve got them this afternoon before Alec arrives. Your preparations for the welcome party are going OK?”

  She regained some of her composure. “Yes, thank you. I have the greatest respect for Alec’s archaeological abilities, you know. I’ll be very happy to see him back safely with us.”

  ----------

  When Joseph returned to the office he shared with Mike, he clicked the kettle on and put tea bags into a couple of grimy mugs. “You look rattled – what happened?” Mike asked.

  “Juliet’s going ape about Alec and his water baby.”

  “Going ape, ha ha,” said Mike, and then he caught Joseph’s expression. “Ah, you’re serious.”

  “I’ve never seen her like this before. OK, they’ve had professional fall-outs over human evolutionary theories before now, but Juliet seems really angry this time. She says it’s because of the reputational damage that could be done to the university, but I’m not so sure. I actually think she might be worried that Alec has something here that could discredit her. Or at least discredit her refusal to entertain any human evolutionary theory that depends on water as an environmental pressure for selection.”

  “High stakes, then.”

  “Mmm.”

  Mike made the tea in silence, while Joseph took up his space at the window. There was something about looking out over the city, away to the grey sea in the distance, which helped both of them to think more clearly.

  “Oh hey, sorry. You were going to tell me the cause of your current distraction,” said Joseph, turning round just in time to receive a scalding hot cup of tea.

  “Sophie’s pregnant.” A bald statement.

  Joseph grinned from ear to ear. “Oh fantastic news, congratulations!”

  “Thanks, yeah, we’re really looking forward to the baby.” Joseph caught the downbeat in Mike’s answer.

  “But?”

  “No buts, really!”

  Silence.

  “OK, to be honest it’s all freaking me out. It’s not the baby or the responsibility, or Sophie. I love her to bits. It’s just how things are changing. Thirtieth birthday last year, now I’m going to be a dad. Bloody hell!”

  “Y’know, when Anna got pregnant with Mark and Jenny we both felt exactly the same way. In fact, I think it hit Anna harder than me. Course, we had the double whammy of finding out it was twins!”

  “I think Sophie’s feeling it too, not least because she’s feeling so lousy. She’s got no energy to do anything and feels sick almost all the time. It’s a real bummer for her. And I just feel like a complete spare part.”

  “When’s she due?”

  “Early September.”

  Joseph grinned again. “Good time to be born. Seriously though, talk to her about this.”

  Mike looked doubtful. “I don’t want to give her anything else to worry about while she feels so lousy. I’m just having a thirty-something wobble. I’ll be OK.”

  Joseph smiled at his colleague and then caught sight of the clock on the wall behind him. “Oh hell, I’ve got that tutorial group in an hour. I’d better think of something to say t
o them. And I need a sandwich.” Actually, he thought, after a morning like this I need a stiff drink.

  Chapter 3

  The doorbell rang repeatedly.

  “OK, I’m coming. For Christ’s sake, gimme a break.” The thin young woman walked quickly down the hallway and opened the door. “Where’s the fuckin’ fire?!” The hooded figure pushed her back down the hallway and held her hard against the wall. “OK, OK, take it easy. Like it rough d’ya? That’s OK, I can do rough. No need for anyone to get hurt.”

  “You stay away from Alec Whickham,” the figure rasped in a deep voice. “Skanky whore.” The intruder held her tight by the arms, and then suddenly turned her round with one arm up her back. “This is a warning you shouldn’t ignore.” She was pushed against the wall again, this time hitting her head against the kitchen door frame. Then she was suddenly let go and her attacker ran back down the hall and out of the house.

  She propped herself up against the wall for a moment, shaking, then walked towards the front door. She closed and locked it, and put on the security chain. Walking back to the kitchen she picked up a packet of cigarettes from the hall table and put one in her mouth with a trembling hand. The livid red marks on her arms were already beginning to show signs of bruising as she searched for matches in the drawer under the sink.

  “Come on, come on. Must have some somewhere. Oh, thank God.” The match sputtered into life. She lit the cigarette and drew a deep breath of comforting smoke. I’ve got to get out of this game, she thought to herself.

  Chapter 4

  Dr Alec Whickham was already fastening his seatbelt as the steward’s voice came over the address system. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin our descent into Manchester Airport. Please fasten your seat belts and make sure ....”

  Alec’s thoughts drifted as the plane banked to the left and he could see the Derbyshire hills beneath them. Everything was so green. After four months in Africa the English countryside looked like a different planet. His research student, Egraine Mountford, and his post-doctoral research associates Ben Magnusson and Lily White (whose parents either had a wicked sense of humour or none at all) were chatting about the first things they were going to do after they landed and the hoo-ha of the welcome back was over.

  “OK, so, in order of priority; get laid, go to Pizza Hut, watch the Simpsons, phone my mum and dad, get rat-arsed.”

  “Honestly Ben, I don’t know how your girlfriend puts up with you. Are you at least intending to say hello to her before dragging her off to bed?” asked Lily in exasperation. Four months of Ben’s macho sense of humour had stretched her patience to breaking point.

  “At least he left getting drunk till last,” said Egraine. “She’ll be grateful for that.”

  “I think it would be appropriate to get into a more academic frame of mind,” said Alec over his shoulder.

  “Sorry Alec.” Ben looked a little sheepish. “It’s just really exciting. I still can’t actually believe what’s in the hold of this plane. And, even more, that I’m a part of it.”

  Alec smiled a flat, humourless smile. The truth was that he couldn’t quite believe it either. Finally, exoneration. After years of battling against academic conservatism and colleagues promoting themselves rather than the subject under study, this was the evidence he had been looking for. He couldn’t be ignored now. Even Juliet would have to concede this one.

  Born and brought up in Newcastle on the North East coast of England and the youngest of three brothers, Alec had been an introverted and quiet child. His parents had hoped that he would become more sociable as he got older, but that had never happened. His bedroom had been full of dinosaur pictures and models, wall charts showing the development of Homo sapiens and books devoted to palaeontology and archaeology. The few friends he brought home from school didn’t usually come back more than once, apparently unsettled by the intensity of Alec’s interests and his complete lack of empathy. He did have one closer friend, Robbie, who shared his interest in fossils, but even he was a fairly occasional visitor. Alec’s favourite family holidays had been to the south coast of England, along the Jurassic Coast around Lyme Regis and Charmouth, and all he ever wanted to do was to walk the beaches collecting fossils.

  His interests had developed and focussed as he got older. A natural scientist, his marks were always high in school and he left with four “A” grade A levels, going on to study archaeology and palaeontology at Manchester University and then to research his PhD at Birmingham, investigating the environments that may have contributed to early human development. Birmingham was where Alec had first met the aquatic ape hypothesis, or AAH. Browsing through a bookshop in the Bull Ring one weekend, he had come across a book titled “The Scars of Evolution” by Elaine Morgan. The title immediately caught his interest, so he bought a copy. As he began to read it the arguments truly fascinated him. He had always struggled to reconcile existing theories of human evolution with the things that make humans human. Grasslands habitats just didn’t add up as being the environmental context for human development. Bipedalism, functional hairlessness, increased fat, breathing control, copious sweating, high dependence on water and large brain development is a collection of adaptations that, in combination, are unique to humans. Alec had always believed that the environment that promoted selection for these was likely to be peculiar to humans too. Otherwise, why are there no other walking, talking apes? Why just us? And why are we so different from our surviving ape relatives? Elaine Morgan’s book argued that the major environmental pressure that resulted in the evolution of humans was water. Not just a quick wade through a stream every now and again, but a long and close relationship with it that resulted in the development of characteristics that are more commonly seen in aquatic mammals.

  It only took Alec an afternoon and evening to read the book, but it changed his life. He had been struggling to find a topic for his doctoral research, and that afternoon it suddenly became clear; the characteristics that make us human are recognisable aquatic adaptations. He immediately determined that his thesis would add to the body of knowledge that supported this view. However, the AAH was far from popular with the mainstream view of human evolution, and he encountered considerable resistance to researching the topic for his PhD. The research committee that considered his application initially rejected it, saying that the AAH was neither provable nor falsifiable, and as such was not a suitable subject for doctoral research. Alec didn’t give up, though. Alec never gave up. But he would have been unlikely to succeed if he hadn’t had the good fortune to be introduced to Joseph Connor, then a senior lecturer in paleobiology, as a potential tutor. Joseph quickly recognised Alec’s intellect and that, despite his very apparent social difficulties, he was capable of ground-breaking research. In a characteristic act of open-mindedness, Joseph agreed to help Alec to formulate his research proposal and then to supervise him, a task he later described as both exhilarating and frustrating in equal measure. In the end, Alec’s PhD put together a persuasive enough theoretical test of the hypothesis to achieve his doctorate. But that didn’t mean that Joseph was totally persuaded by the AAH. Or that many other specialists in the field were either.

  As the plane made its final approach into Manchester Airport Alec thought back to the day he first saw the tell-tale edge of ancient bone protruding from the ground on the eastern shore of Lake Turkana. As they began to scrape and brush away the surrounding earth, the extent of the preservation became clearer hour by hour. Most of the long bones in the legs and arms had remained intact, but the ribs were broken into a number of pieces that would need to be reconstructed. The pelvis was also broken, but only in three places, and the pubic arch was intact enough to identify the remains as most likely to be female. The skull was in fifteen pieces, but it did appear that most of it was present. It promised to be quite a jigsaw puzzle. The position of the bones suggested that the final resting position of the animal’s body had been draped over a rock that had fossilised fresh water mussels attached
to it, with a hand axe lying close by. The skeleton was face down, set into the sediment, and some parts were stuck firmly to the rock beneath. Alec had decided that the best method was to dig under the fossils and the rock and try to lift it all as one, with the sediment base intact. This had been both fiddly and heavy work, but they had managed to do it successfully and crate it up safely. He had also succeeded in getting the Kenyan authorities to agree to him bringing the finds back to the UK for investigation, although he only had them for four months so he and his team would have to proceed quickly. But, they also needed to undertake the cleaning carefully, measuring and accurately dating the skeleton together with the fossilised shellfish and the hand axe.

  He was sure that the fossilised bones and the shellfish would be contemporaneous, which would mean that the creature whose skeleton it was had died in the water. Not by water, but actually in it. Not proof that human ancestors went through a totally aquatic phase, but persuasive that the water was an environment that was in close proximity to developing Homo species. As if that needed proving through the fossil record, he thought. How could an animal that sweats and drinks as much as humans do have evolved anywhere else than in an environment that had plenty of fresh water? Particularly somewhere as hot as Africa. How many times have I endured reading the hypothesis that sweating developed as a response to living in a hot and dry environment? Absolute nonsense.