“Mmm, is that an offer? No, I mean….the shocking exposé. Is it really that shocking?”
Sinclair sits up and reaches blindly for the glass of water on the nightstand. “To be honest with you, Beth, I haven’t actually read it. Beyond my perception that the truth was finally out there, so to speak, I haven’t considered any of the rest. The sex scandal stuff is minimally damaging, I’d imagine, if not possibly even an image-enhancer.”
“That’s what I was going to say, as a comfort thing. It’s not like you’re a prime-time family-friendly type of figure, is it? You’re on a marginal-interest programme on the ‘intellectual’ channel. I’m sure your paymasters at BBC4 will probably think it’s quite cool. They hired you in the first place, so they obviously wanted to sex the thing up. Well, they can’t accuse you of not fulfilling your brief.”
He drains the water and bangs the glass back down with a rueful smile. “I don’t think the media image will suffer too much, no. And publishers will love it. I could have a Christmas bestseller if I play it right.”
I laugh. “You’re unbelievable. Was your thesis on Machiavelli?”
“ ‘Entrepreneurs are simply those who understand that there is little difference between obstacle and opportunity and are able to turn both to their advantage’,” he quotes.
My heart jumps. This is going to be all right. God bless old Niccolo Machiavelli; between him and a shag, Sinclair seems to have perked up no end.
“The Chancellor, on the other hand…” he intones, his voice doom-laden. “He will want to know about my, er, extracurricular activities with students. If he can be convinced that you are the only one, I may not be in too deep waters. If, however, the perception lingers that I am a predatory old lecher, stalking my undergraduates, there may well be a knock-on effect on applications.”
“You mean they’ll go up,” I say cheekily.
“Beth,” he admonishes. “I can’t regret what I’ve done with you,
but it isn’t what I’d want for my daughter.”
Christ, that’s a sobering thought. “You feel guilty? You wish it had never happened?”
He takes my hand, “No, Beth, never that. I suspect I’ll never regret seducing you. But I can understand how people might consider it morally dubious.”
“I suppose you’re right. God, I hope the Chancellor is on your side. What if he isn’t?”
Sinclair shrugs. “Somebody else will want me. Possibly overseas. My academic reputation is such that I would probably be in demand.”
“Oh. But then…”
“Beth, it will all be all right. As for the revelations of my past…” He shrugs. “They are neither here nor there. As you say, they are more likely to work in my favour – the underprivileged child who beat the odds – than otherwise. I’m happy to print an apology to that childcare worker whose tooth I knocked out. We corresponded privately many years ago, and he bears me no grudge; indeed, he was very supportive of my new endeavours. It’s just the sex tape…things like that tend to linger in the collective memory.”
“You could never go on Have I Got News For You,” I point out. “And wherever you go you’ll always have people whispering behind you about canes and suchlike.”
“Ah, but they will never dare do it to my face,” says Sinclair with an evil glint. “So in that sense, it’s much more satisfactory than being caught in the opposite scenario, with a dominatrix.”
“You should have called yourself Pollyanna. You’re definitely winning the Glad Game today.”
“You seem to be having this effect on me, Beth,” he says, pulling me into his side with a strong arm. “Ordinarily I’m infinitely more pessimistic than this. Having you here has diminished the impact of all this by a considerable factor.”
“Whatever happens, Sinclair, you know I’m in your corner, don’t you? Even if your entire career goes up in smoke and we have to live in a burger van at the side of the road?”
He laughs, loud and long. “I’m quite tempted to do just that,” he says. “But first things first. We need to get you to the Student Health Centre. Get this pill you need.”
“What…now?” I straighten my spine, running a hand through my hair. “It can wait till tomorrow. Perhaps those creeps outside might have gone by then.”
“My understanding is that time is of the essence in these situations. I don’t care about them. I’ll run them over if I have to.”
"Are you sure you're sober?"
"I didn't have that much. I don't have much of a head for booze, if I'm honest. Two measures…two hours ago. That's all right, isn't it?"
“But Sinclair….with me….they know I’m a student…isn’t that a bit….brazen?”
He stands up and pulls me up with him. “I have nothing to hide,” he says with a flourish. “I’ve never been ashamed of my liaison with you and I’m not about to start. Come on, get dressed. We’re going out.”
*