Chapter 31

My focus on self-improvement meant that I had little time toconsider and respond to the Dean’s threat of dismissal. I haddecided not to take up Gene’s offer to construct an alibi; nowthat the breach of rules was in my conscious mind, it wouldbe a violation of my personal integrity to compound the error.
I succeeded in suppressing thoughts of my professional future,but could not stop the Dean’s parting comment about KevinYu and my plagiarism complaint from intruding into myconscious mind. After much thought, I concluded that the Deanwas not offering me an unethical deal: ‘Withdraw the complaintand you can keep your job.’
What she said was bothering me because I had myself brokenthe rules in pursuing the Father Project. Gene had once toldme a religious joke when I questioned the morality of hisbehaviour.
Jesus addresses the angry mob who are stoning a prostitute:
‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.’ A stone fliesthrough the air and hits the woman. Jesus turns around andsays, ‘Sometimes you really piss me off, Mother.’
246/290I could no longer be equated with the Virgin Mary. I had beencorrupted. I was like everyone else. My stone-casting credibilityhad been significantly compromised.
I summoned Kevin to a meeting in my office. He was frommainland China, and aged approximately twenty-eight (estimatedBMI nineteen). I interpreted his expression and demeanour as‘nervous’.
I had his essay, partly or entirely written by his tutor, in myhand and showed it to him. I asked the obvious question: Whyhad he not written it himself?
He averted his gaze – which I interpreted as a cultural signalof respect rather than of shiftiness – but instead of answeringmy question, he started to explain the consequences of hisprobable expulsion. He had a wife and child in China, and hadnot yet told them of the problem. He hoped some day toemigrate, or, if not, at least to work in genetics. His unwisebehaviour would mean the end of his dreams and those of hiswife, who had managed for almost four years without him.
He was crying.
In the past, I would have regarded this as sad but irrelevant.
A rule had been broken. But now I was also a rule-breaker. Ihad not broken the rules deliberately, or at least not with anyconscious thought. Perhaps Kevin’s behaviour had been similarlyunconsidered.
I asked Kevin, ‘What are the principal arguments advancedagainst the use of genetically modified crops?’ The essay hadbeen on the ethical and legal issues raised by advances ingenetics. Kevin gave a comprehensive summary. I followed withfurther questions, which Kevin also answered well. He seemedto have a good knowledge of the topic.
‘Why didn’t you write this yourself?’ I asked.
‘I am a scientist. I am not confident writing in English aboutmoral and cultural questions. I wanted to be sure not to fail. Idid not think.’
I did not know how to respond to Kevin. Acting withoutthinking was anathema to me, and I did not want toencourage it in future247/290scientists. Nor did I want my own weakness to affect a correctdecision regarding Kevin. I would pay for my own error in thisregard, as I deserved to. But losing my job would not havethe same consequences for me as expulsion would for Kevin. Idoubted he would be offered a potentially lucrative partnershipin a cocktail bar as an alternative.
I thought for quite a long time. Kevin just sat. He must haverealised that I was considering some form of reprieve. But Iwas incredibly uncomfortable in this position of judgement as Iweighed the impact of various decisions. Was this what theDean had to do every day? For the first time, I felt somerespect for her.
I was not confident I could solve the problem in a short time.
But I realised that it would be cruel to leave Kevin wonderingif his life had been destroyed.
‘I understand …’ I started, and realised that this was not aphrase I was accustomed to using when talking about people. Istopped the sentence and thought for a while longer. ‘I willcreate a supplementary task – probably an essay on personalethics. As an alternative to expulsion.’
I interpreted Kevin’s expression as ecstatic.
I was conscious that there was more to social skills thanknowing how to order coffee and being faithful to your partner.
Since my school days, I had selected my clothes without regardto fashion. I started out not caring how I looked, thendiscovered that people found what I wore amusing. I enjoyedbeing seen as someone not tied to the norms of society. Butnow I had no idea how to dress.
I asked Claudia to buy me some suitable clothes. She hadproved her expertise with the jeans and shirt, but she insistedon me accompany-ing her.
‘I may not be around forever,’ she said. After some reflection,I deduced that she was talking not about death, but aboutsomething more248/290immediate: marriage failure! I had to find a way to convinceGene of the danger.
The actual shopping took a full morning. We went to severalshops, acquiring shoes, trousers, a jacket, a second pair ofjeans, more shirts, a belt and even a tie.
I had more shopping to do, but I did not require Claudia’shelp. A photo was sufficient to specify my requirements. Ivisited the optometrist, the hairdresser (not my regular barber)and the menswear shop.
Everyone was extremely helpful.
My schedule and social skills had now been brought into linewith conventional practice, to the best of my ability within thetime I had allocated. The Don Project was complete. It wastime to commence the Rosie Project.
There was a mirror on the inside of the closet in my officewhich I had never needed before. Now I used it to review myappearance. I expected I would have only one chance to cutthrough Rosie’s negative view of me and produce an emotionalreaction. I wanted her to fall in love with me.
Protocol dictated that I should not wear a hat indoors, but Idecided that the PhD students’ area could be considered public.
On that basis, it would be acceptable. I checked the mirroragain. Rosie had been right. In my grey three-piece suit, Icould be mistaken for Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird. Atticus Tillman. World’s sexiest man.
Rosie was at her desk. So was Stefan, looking unshaven asalways. I had my speech prepared.
‘Good afternoon, Stefan. Hi, Rosie. Rosie, I’m afraid it’s shortnotice but I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner thisevening. There’s something I’d like to share with you.’
Neither spoke. Rosie looked a little stunned. I looked at herdirectly.
‘That’s a charming pendant,’ I said. ‘I’ll pick you up at 7.45.’ Iwas249/290shaking as I walked away, but I had given it my best effort.
Hitch from Hitch would have been pleased with me.
I had two more visits to make before my evening date withRosie.
I walked straight past Helena. Gene was in his office looking athis computer. On the screen was a photo of an Asian womanwho was not conventionally attractive. I recognised the format– she was a Wife-Project Applicant. Place of Birth – NorthKorea.
Gene looked at me strangely. My Gregory Peck costume wasdoubtless unexpected but appropriate for my mission.
‘Hi, Gene.’
‘What’s with the “Hi”? What happened to “Greetings”?’
I explained that I had eliminated a number of unconventionalman-nerisms from my vocabulary.
‘So Claudia tells me. You didn’t think your regular mentor wasup to the job?’
I wasn’t sure what he meant.
He explained. ‘Me. You didn’t ask me.’
This was correct. Feedback from Rosie had prompted me toreassess Gene’s social competence, and my recent work withClaudia and the movie exemplars had confirmed my suspicionthat his skills applied to a limited domain, and that he was notemploying them in the best interests of himself and his family.
‘No,’ I told him. ‘I wanted advice on socially appropriatebehaviour.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Obviously, you’re similar to me. That’s why you’re my bestfriend.
Hence this invitation.’ There had been a great deal ofpreparation for this day. I gave Gene an envelope. He did notopen it but continued the conversation.
‘I’m like you? No offence, Don, but your behaviour – your oldbehaviour – was in a class of its own. If you want my opinion,you hid250/290behind a persona that you thought people found amusing. It’shardly surprising people saw you as a … buffoon.’
This was exactly my point. But Gene was not making theconnection. As his buddy, it was my duty to behave as anadult male and give it to him straight.
I walked over to his map of the world, with a pin for everyconquest.
I checked it for what I hoped would be the last time. Then Istabbed it with my finger, to create an atmosphere of threat.
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘You think people see you as a Casanova. Youknow what? I don’t care what other people think of you, but,if you want to know, they think you’re a jerk. And they’reright, Gene. You’re fifty-six years old with a wife and two kids,though for how much longer I don’t know. Time you grew up.
I’m telling you that as a friend.’
I watched Gene’s face. I was getting better at reading emotions,but this was a complex one. Shattered, I think.
I was relieved. The basic male – male tough advice protocolhad been effective. It had not been necessary to slug him.