Page 22 of Things We Do for Love and Science
Chapter Seven
Delia entered the bustlingcafé and scanned the crowd, hoping to spot her brother. The noise was deafening, but she tried to block it out.
Tom, true to form, was already there and waved from one of the tiny tables at the far end of the room. “Hey, sis, this way.”
She smiled and weaved through the tightly packed tables and chairs.
He stood and enveloped her in a bear hug. “Come here, my favorite workaholic.”
“Ah, Tom, good to see you. Thanks for getting us a table. It’s bedlam in here.” She patted his back before releasing him.
Her shoulders dropped, and her jaw relaxed. She’d been rushing around all morning at John Winter’s behest, but being with Tom always calmed her. Even here, in this noisy, packed space thick with the aroma of melted cheese.
He pulled out a chair for her and sat back in his. “The trick is to arrive before the students get released from their holding pens.”
She studied the table top and bit her lip. “Sorry, I’m late again, but things are crazy busy at the lab.”
He arched an eyebrow. “When are you ever not run off your feet?”
She perked up. “Ah, you know, things will calm down once I get tenure. I’ll be able to plan my future and will no longer be beholden to bloody John Winter.”
“That tyrant in lab coat has been dangling that job in front of your nose for exactly how long now?”
“Too long,” she admitted. “But this time, I’m nearly there. The interviews are starting soon. And I’m the most qualified person for the job—teaching experience, research, publications.”
They had to give the position to her. She didn’t want to even contemplate the alternative.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t always carry the day in academic circles, does it?” He held up both hands. “Sorry, that sounded cruel, but I’m worried about you, sis. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I know, you’re only looking out for me.” She briefly squeezed his hand.
He was the sensible one; always had been. Their differences in temperament aside, they were close. Since their mum had emigrated to Australia with her new husband five years ago, they were each other’s only family in England.
Their dad and his current girlfriend lived in the Scottish Highlands, and even though he was on the same landmass as his two kids, he only made the trip down south every two years, all going well. Holed up in his tiny cottage on the outskirts of Inverness, he didn’t encourage visitors.
Delia was occasionally angry about his lack of contact, but Tom was all Zen. ‘He couldn’t be bothered with us when we were small, why should he bother now?’ was his stance. She sometimes wished she could reach that level of detachment.
“How’re Anjali and the kids?” Delia glanced at the menu, then dropped it onto the table. She’d go for her favorite quiche with a side salad again.
“All well. Jamie’s done with teething for the moment, thank God.” He leaned back and took an expansive breath. “And Rubina, your favorite, made a new friend at school this week.”
“I’m not surprised; she’s a little angel. But I’ve no favorites. I love Jamie equally well. Let me know when Anjali and you need another date night. I’ll be happy to babysit, especially now Jamie’s latest set of baby teeth has broken through.”
They both laughed.
“I’ll take you up on that offer in a week or two.”
The waitress arrived, and they ordered their food.
