Daughters of Fire. Barbara Erskine
at him in time to see his eyes fixed on her face. He looked away at once, as though embarrassed to be caught staring. Could he see something odd about her, she wondered. Sense the aura of the past which she could still feel hanging around her? She hoped not. She shivered. The street was busy, and for a moment the noise of a lorry changing gear beside them almost drowned out the quiet voice which spoke unexpectedly in her ear.
‘So, Dr Lloyd Rees, has Mr Steadman been giving you his opinion of your book?’
Viv gasped audibly. Hugh Graham had walked up behind them, unnoticed. She faced him, her heart thudding. ‘Indeed he has. He liked it.’
‘Did you?’ Hugh turned to her companion and peered at him over the top of his spectacles. ‘Well, you’re inexperienced as yet.’ He smiled. ‘I had hoped to see you in the department, Dr Lloyd Rees.’ He paused, scanning her face. ‘I would have appreciated the chance to speak to you alone.’ He glanced at Steve, then he went on, ‘But as you are here now, I may as well tell you. Amongst other things, I have been looking over the timetables for next year. Assuming you are still with us.’ He paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes fixed on hers. For a moment she thought she saw a flicker of hesitation there, but if there was it was gone so fast she might have imagined it. He went on implacably, ‘I’m sure you’ll be pleased to see you’ve been given more time to lecture the new intake of undergraduates. I think your approach to history will intrigue them. The second years, where the standards of teaching are so much more important, will be supervised by Dr Grant. As you know Dr Macleod has resigned as from the end of this academic year to start his well-earned retirement, and I have decided that I will give the Readership to Dr Grant as a reward for his hard work and loyalty to the department.’ He paused, waiting for a reaction as the lights changed once more and the traffic surged forward. ‘He hasn’t published as much as you, but his work is sound.’
Viv stared at him, dimly aware that Steve had moved closer to her and reached out to touch her elbow in a quiet gesture of support. For a moment she was too stunned to speak. When at last she managed to open her mouth it was to stutter, ‘You’re right. This is hardly the place to discuss this, Hugh!’
He shrugged. ‘Why not? Surely you don’t mind Mr Steadman knowing. Everyone will soon enough. As I warned you I have reviewed the situation and I have now made the right decision. We are a small department. I am afraid there is very little room for promotion and when a position does come up, it must go to the strongest candidate. The most reliable and honest candidate.’
‘Honest?’ Viv was intensely aware of Steve’s eyes on her face again. He was looking very uncomfortable.
‘Honest, Dr Lloyd Rees.’ Hugh pursed his lips. ‘There is, as I believe you know, something missing from my study.’ Near them the lights turned red once more. People surged past them across the road. They did not move.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Viv’s mouth had gone dry.
‘Don’t you?’
They faced each other in silence for a moment, Steve at Viv’s elbow. Holding her breath, she waited for Hugh’s next blow; for him to laugh as he told her he had the perfect excuse now to sack her, an excuse which would be upheld by any court and any university council in the world. He didn’t. He didn’t know for sure, she realised suddenly. He couldn’t prove it.
He gave her another long cold look then with a smile he bowed slightly and turned away, walking briskly up the road towards Greyfriars.
Steve shook his head. ‘What the hell is he talking about? What is he thinking of, telling you like that, in the street, for God’s sake?’ He was furiously indignant for her. ‘I’m so sorry, Viv.’
‘You too?’ Viv said somewhat grimly. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m not. If he was out to humiliate me, it hasn’t worked.’ She managed to bring her attention back to his face. ‘Look, I wish you hadn’t had to witness that. I’m not the Prof’s favourite person at the moment as you can see and he doesn’t seem to be himself, does he.’ She realised that she was shaking. ‘This is nothing that can’t be fixed, I’m sure. We differ in our approach to things, that’s all. A nice long summer holiday and it will all blow over.’ It wouldn’t, of course. How could it? But there was no need for Steve to know that.
‘Come to Ingleborough, Viv.’ Steve reached out and touched her arm. ‘Away from Hugh. Follow the footsteps of Cartimandua. Why don’t you?’
She shivered. ‘I’ll let you know, Steve.’ She punched his arm affectionately. ‘See you soon.’ And she ducked across the road just as the lights turned green again, leaving him standing looking after her.
I
Viv spotted the manuscript of her play on Cathy’s desk at once, with the copy of her book resting on top of it, as she threw herself into one of the armchairs in front of the bookcase. Cathy and Pete were in the kitchen getting supper and Tasha was slumped in front of the TV in the living room. Pat had followed her into the study with a bottle of chilled white wine and two glasses. The other armchair was occupied with a certain air of defiance by Pablo, so after a moment’s hesitation Pat pulled up a smaller chair next to the desk.
‘This is fantastic!’ She thumped the jacket of the book. ‘Brilliant. I enjoyed it enormously. What a woman!’
Viv gave a wry grin. ‘Indeed.’ She waited to see what Pat was going to say next.
‘And your stab at the play is not at all bad.’ Pat put on a pair of green-rimmed spectacles and laid her hand on the manuscript. ‘Much better than I expected, in fact.’ She reached for the bottle and poured, pushing one of the glasses across the desk towards Viv. ‘I like the approach you’ve taken. The drama. The narrative interludes. That works well.’
‘Not according to Maddie.’ Viv took a gulp from her glass.
‘And I’ll tell you why.’ Pat glanced up. ‘You don’t mind? It’s what I’m here for.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Viv shrugged. She minded like hell, but she had no choice.
‘You’ve become self-conscious. In the book you were relaxed and confident. On your own ground. You knew what you were doing. Your voice, and Cartimandua’s voice are authentic. In the play you’ve lost that authenticity. It comes through from time to time almost by accident and those bits come alive. Like the first scene. It’s brilliant. Then you rein yourself in again and I think that’s the phrase you used yourself, and the style becomes –’ Pat hesitated. ‘Pedagogic. Even pedantic.’ She groped in her pocket for her cigarettes. ‘Do you think Cathy would notice if I smoke?’
‘Yes.’ Viv grinned. ‘Yes, she would.’
‘You’re right. It’s a bummer trying to give up.’ Pushing the packet back into her jacket Pat reached for her glass again instead. ‘Does what I’m saying make sense?’ She raised an eyebrow.
Viv shrugged again. ‘I suppose it does, yes.’
Cartimandua’s voice – not authentic! She smiled grimly to herself.
‘Do you mind if we do some deconstructing?’ Pat went on. ‘Shorter scenes. Punchier. More real. Your good ones are so good they make the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. That’s why the others are such an anti-climax.’ She shook her head. ‘And the narrator’s voice needs to be less tentative. This is you, right? Whether we use you in person, or an actor. You are the world authority on this woman. We need to be convinced of it.’
Viv let out a gasp of laughter. ‘The world authority?’
‘Too right!’ Pat took off her glasses and looked at her earnestly. ‘I’ve got such a good feeling