CHAPTER 9
Their return to the University had become another silent walk, made more uncomfortable by more spots of rain falling from a grey, overcast sky. It was getting heavier by the minute with a fresh wind scattering rubbish lying in the doorway of an empty shop close to a McDonalds, Pizza Hut and KFC.
Eddie hated litter. If you traced litter back to its origins, which he had, it was almost always big business who created it but then passed responsibility for its disposal down to the local council, who paid for its removal from people’s hard-earned tax. These companies had always ignored Eddie’s suggestion to increase their prices by a fraction of one percent to help fund municipal waste collection.
That was why when he spotted the greasy, plastic carton that had once contained a portion of French fries dispensed by McDonalds sliding across the wet pavement, he chased it, bent down, picked it up and dropped it in a trash bin. A plastic cup with a straw protruding through the plastic lid rolled by. He picked that up, too. “There,” he said wiping his hands on his jacket. “I would normally have handed it to a passing student but they are sheltering from the rain in case it ruins their hairstyling.”
“You always do that?”
“Everywhere I go I see the effects of human eating,” Eddie sighed. “Are these citizens of such an advanced nation so desperately hungry that they need to eat and drink walking along the street? Half of them are overweight already. Why do they need to drink Coca Cola in pint sized plastic bottles with plastic lids and a plastic straw? Why do people in suits who like to be seen as busy and sophisticated professionals scurry everywhere holding plastic cups of Costa coffee in one hand and a phone in the other? Is it not more sophisticated to sit and enjoy well prepared coffee from a cup with a saucer and a metal spoon that is then washed and recycled?”
“But we ourselves have just eaten a fast food lunch, Professor.”
“Not true. We sat. We ate. We talked. We combined essential eating with serious discussions on a serious matter. Those two old ladies were model citizens. Did you hear them discussing how they used to make jam donuts when they were young? Does anyone discuss the quality of their cheese burger these days or are things so similar, so mass produced, so identical and so uninteresting like clones that there’s no point in discussing or questioning anything?”
“It’s the society we live in, Professor.”
“But do you like the society we live in?”
The rain was becoming heavier and Isobel was walking a little faster now. Eddie suspected it was the thought of her hair getting wet, but didn’t want to mention it.
“It is the constant drive to stay in business whilst meeting the wishes of a demanding public, Professor Higgins” she said, sounding a little out of breath.
That statement truly upset Eddie. He stopped walking.
“No, no, no,” he said. “That is a totally wrong conclusion. Human demands are insatiable. They will never be satisfied. It is the constant drive to increase demand in order to sell more. The result is an erosion of standards, a decline in quality, a pressure that leads to the lowest common denominator and, although the politicians will never admit it, to a poorer and less fair society.”
Isobel stopped a few yards away and covered her head with her hand but it was futile. The rain was getting harder by the second. Rain was soaking into Eddie’s jacket which had been damp to start with but rain didn’t worry him. If he got wet again, he’d hang his jacket on the back of the chair, put his sandals on the radiator and dry what little hair he had with a towel in case it dripped onto the computer keyboard.
He noticed Isobel was standing outside a shop window that said “Everything a Pound’ and so, without saying anything, he disappeared inside.
When he emerged, she was sheltering in the doorway as the rain fell in torrents. Eddie had just purchased an umbrella with a picture of Mini Mouse on the top. He could have bought a Mickey one but there was such a thing as buying the most appropriate.
“For you,” he said. “Only a pound. Made by some poor wretches in Bangladesh I suspect but a few pennies might flow down for their own dismal food and shelter.”
“Thank you. Professor. Very kind.”
“Well, we need to get back. Press the button there and the thing will expand like a canopy. I doubt the quality’s up to much – it’s the global economy again - but it might last twenty minutes or so.”
“Would you like to share it, Professor?”
“No thanks. Call me Eddie.”
He strode off leaving her trying to raise the umbrella. When she finally caught up, he was mumbling to himself – clearly the tail end of something longer. All she heard was: “…. around our feet in styrene packs, open, discarded, left over snacks. A carton rolling by the door, a greasy kebab stuck to the floor. Burgers and buns, some chips and ketchup…” It was probably not meant for anyone’s ears except his own, but she overheard him finish with: “…and someone’s not unexpected retch up.”
Realising there was quite another side to Eddie, Isobel grabbed the loose sleeve of his wet jacket and they walked off together under the umbrella.
“Would you like another cup of tea?” Eddie asked as they arrived at the main door to the research building. He pressed the security buttons, pushed the door open and went inside as Isobel stood outside, shaking the umbrella.
“That’s very kind of you, Professor Higgins, Eddie, but I’m due to meet yur friend, Mr Dobson, in half an hour. I also have the decorator’s in at my apartment and a dinner engagement this evening.”
“A family engagement?” Eddie asked though he had no idea why.
“Vital is, or was, a family business, Professor. The Directors have historically met on Saturday evenings when possible.”
“Are you married?” Eddie said and experienced a sudden irritation in his throat. He coughed though it sounded more like choking. “Only I didn’t notice another Johnson on the list of Company Directors.”
“I’m no longer married. Neither do I have any children. But I must get back. Thank you for…”
“There is something more I’d like to ask you,” Eddie said.
“Yes?”
“It might take a while. Are you sure you couldn’t find time for another cup of tea?”
“I really must be going.”
Eddie was struggling to remove his damp, tweed jacket. It always seemed to shrink when it got wet and expanded when dry but to his surprise Isobel stepped through the doorway and helped pull the sleeve down.
“Thank you. It’s damp. I’ll hang it up. My feet are also damp. Are yours?”
“A little cold and wet I must admit.”
“I wanted to learn about women in business,” Eddie said. “Would you say women in business are less likely to engage in criminality?”
Isobel stared at Eddie for a few seconds “That’s a very leading question, Professor. I hope you’re not suggesting that I...”
“No, no, no. Of course not. Not necessarily.”
She had propped the dripping umbrella by the door and Eddie watched a trickle of water run across the polished floor. “Professor Higgins. I’m not sure I understand why you’re asking.”
“I’m asking if you could spare a few minutes for another cup of tea.”
The door had closed automatically behind them and they were standing alone in the corridor with signs pointing towards the Thompson Department of Cell Biology, the Department of Plant Genetics and Eddie’s own Centre for Mycology.
“Well, never mind,” Eddie said. “Another time, perhaps. You must go and meet Mark. I’ll let you get on. Good bye.”
And he walked off along the corridor, holding his wet jacket and with his wet sandals squeaking and squelching on the polished wood floor. When he turned, Isobel had gone.