Ch 1. Graduation.
For me life started in a small village school with friends I had grown up with. Some drifted away, others became much closer. The change to secondary school and meant a new way of learning, with some subjects easier and others more difficult. Then came the realisation that any effort I was going to make, I should put into the things I was good at and enjoyed doing.
So I played a lot of rugby and put enough effort into schoolwork to stay in the top quarter of the class. I figured that as long as the state paid for my education I would avoid leaving school: the more qualifications I got, the better the job would be at the end.
It was in summer and I was finishing my postgraduate degree: a Ph.D. in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology from Bristol University. My supervisor, Dr. Alastair McKenzie, had accepted a position for the following year at a Medical Research Laboratory associated with University College London. He had invited me to join him as a postdoctoral fellow, assuming the thesis defence was successful.
The thesis defence was scheduled for a Friday in August at 9.30 in the departmental library. I was confident yet nervous. I was Alastair's first graduate student and with just the two of us in the lab we knew each other quite well. I rationalised that Dr McKenzie was happy with the thesis, or he would not have sent it to the external examiner. The external examiner was Professor Hamish Black, from Herriot-Watt University in Glasgow. Professor Black just happened to be Alastair's own Ph.D. supervisor.
On the day, I gave an overview of the thesis results in an open seminar, with Professor Black and Dr McKenzie alongside me on the stage. There were some questions from other faculty and my fellow postgrad students, I think I answered most of them. Then we three left the stage and went to the library for the actual oral exam.
Coffee and biscuits were brought in and the discussion began. Alastair deferred to Professor Black who pushed his chair back and looked at the ceiling, hands in the prayer position.
"Well Peter, I don't think there is much more I need to ask you about your theoretical knowledge. But I am obliged to ask a few questions."
I answered as best I could, and for the most part received a nod.
The questions continued for about half an hour, when Prof Black smiled.
"Well I am satisfied with the oral and your answers Mr. Banks. As far as I am concerned you have passed with flying colours, and unless Dr. McKenzie has anything to add, let me shake your hand and congratulate you!"
With a smile Peter thanked the older man.
Alastair came around the table and also congratulated me.
"Incidentally," commented Prof Black, "I am interested to know where you got the idea about your double-selection technique? I have not thought in those terms before and my congratulations: the idea is fascinating. You should consider some form of commercialization before you publish."
"Already in motion, Prof.," said Alastair. "Do you remember Jackson Muir who went to GSK after his doctorate? He is looking at it with the intent to patent. In fact one of the reasons, apart from playing squash, that I have invited Peter to do a fellowship with me is that I want to see how many bright ideas he has stored away."
"Good" replied Professor Black, "I felt sure you had it in hand. So lead me to the paperwork, then if I hurry I can get the 3 pm back to Glasgow."
"Well done Peter," Alastair exclaimed, "now you'd better give your folks a call. Tell them the good news! Then I guess you'll be in the local having a pint with the lads? I may join you later."
In fact I had a couple of pints after calling Mum and Dad, and a fish and chip supper, before I wandered up the hill to the flat. I tried to call Lady Margaret but there was no reply; I left a message, then slept.
The next 3 weeks went by quickly. I moved out of the flat and down to Dorset to be with my folks for a while. Then I rode up to London to fix a bed-and-breakfast place while I looked for a flat. There were notices at UCL, Queen Mary College and the Royal Marsden Hospital, where my lab was located. The Marsden had a lot of cancer patients. All notice boards had places to share and I was surprised how expensive everything was. Even with the 'London weighting' extra to my fellowship I ended up in Brixton, south of Battersea, taking the local surface railway into the hospital each day.
Life was busy finding my way around London: learning his local area, the streets by the Royal Marsden and the West End at weekends. Alastair McKenzie and his wife Jane made me welcome at any time but they lived even further out to the west near Kew Gardens and the M6. There were also many visiting lecturers at various locations, all widely advertised on notice boards.
Lectures and seminars are a part of scientific life, and I tried to set aside Tuesdays and Fridays to listen to whichever speakers were around. I played occasional Saturday games of rugby, either for Esher or Richmond Park: there were ex-Bristol Uni players at both clubs. And there were regular games of squash with Alastair. So both social and work life was busy.
It was during a seminar one Friday that someone rushed in, late, and sat next to me.
"Hello Petey! Good to see you," whispered the out-of-breath redhead as she retrieved her notebook from her handbag. I was surprised and puzzled.
Then the light dawned: "Fiona!" I whispered back, quietly, anxious not to distract from the speaker. "You going to stay or shall we go for coffee?"
"I need to hear this woman" Fiona replied, so we stayed. I cast occasional glances her way as the seminar progressed. Fiona did likewise when she thought I was not looking.
There were a few questions at the end of the talk but the audience filed out within the hour.
"Well who would have thought that we would meet up again like this?" I asked. "The Manor seems a long time ago now. And how have you been?"
"Och, as you see me" replied Fiona. "I finished my Ph.D. two months ago and got a postdoc at the Chelsea and Westminster. I'm settled in to the flat and life is good. By the way, I saw you at Bart's last Friday but I couldn't get to you after the seminar: you left in a hurry!"
"Yep, thirsty time Friday nights. And with no game last Saturday I went out with the lads for a long evening. So you're at the Chelsea, that's only half a mile from me at the Marsden. Small world!"
"Aye, it is that! Do you want to come back to our place? It's not far away: Markham Square, just off King's Road, back of here," Fiona smiled.
"Wow! That's close to work! How did you manage that?" I asked.
"Well, Daddy bought the place for Mummy and we two. Elspeth is 3 years older than me and we share, but Mummy and Aunt Maggie come up about once a month so it can get pretty busy. Elspeth is getting married in the spring and I'll be on my own a lot then. It takes a lot to get Daddy out of Scotland: he hates London."
"Are you coming?" Fiona pulled my sleeve.
"Sure, I'd love to see how the other half live," I laughed.
We chatted like old friends, which in fact we were. Several times Fiona had visited her cousin Sophie at The Manor where I worked at weekends. Fiona was very open and soon was talking about her cousin and her Aunt Margaret.
"You know Sophie and I are pretty close" Fiona chatted, "and she was very much into you, Petey."
"You know Fiona, I was pretty naΓ―ve" I replied. "It really didn't occur to me until right at the end, by which time it was far too late for me to do anything about it."
"Added to which Sophie had told me about her predicament: that sounded like an 19th-century arranged marriage!"
"I also heard about you and Aunt Maggie, you dog, you!" Fiona smirked as she dug me in the ribs. "Of course Mum and her sister are as thick as thieves."
I was obviously embarrassed. "Perhaps I had better head home" I said, ruefully.
"Not a chance laddie" came the reply. "We're just around the corner here."
I looked around the street and was blown away. The central park area of Markham Square was surrounded on three sides with a 4-storey regency crescent, a style popular in 18th century London. We walked up 6 wide stone steps and Fiona let herself in with a key. Their flat was on the 4th floor and we walked up the stairs even though there was a lift towards the back. Another key for the flat.
"I can't believe this" I murmured.
"Nice place you've got here" I commented, a bit tongue-in-cheek.
"Aye, it's OK!" Fiona smiled. "It's a bit more than I need: living room, dining area, kitchen and three bedrooms."
Must be a million or more pounds I thought. If one side had so much money, why didn't they lend some to the other side? I knew Sophie and her family had long-term financial problems. But I supposed money was never talked about with these families and it was probably all tied up with endowments and male side of family stuff. None of my business.
I took my shoes off and dropped my briefcase by the door. Fiona shed her books and patted to the seat beside her on a sofa by a window.