‘I’m a prodigy, sir.’ Gabriel turned to Julia. ‘Professor, I was just telling Professor Bedelmayer here about how I intend to work for Xandox—after my doctorate’s finished, of course.’
People had begun to turn and stare. Blushing furiously, Julia faced Bedelmayer. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Professor Bedelmayer.’
‘What for? The boy’s got chutzpah. Besides, he’s the only one here that’s had the balls to come up and talk to me. He’s been telling me some interesting things. Hey, kid, when you come into Xandox for the job interview—say, in five years’ time—you make sure you bring that genetically engineered tree, okay?’
The onlookers broke into laughter. Gabriel, suddenly humiliated, struggled with his embarrassment.
‘I’ll do that, sir.’
Julia placed her hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. ‘Gabriel, I’ll see you outside.’
‘But—’
‘Now!’
Gabriel disappeared towards the door. Julia turned back to Bedelmayer.
‘Julia—’
‘Huntington. I know. Interesting area—genetics and viol
ence.’
He watched her, one thumb in a pocket, his arm rested across his huge stomach. Beneath the benign appearance shimmered absolute power. Julia felt herself suddenly trembling.
‘Excuse me, sir. I should go find my precocious assistant.’
44
GABRIEL WAS STANDING OUTSIDE the building, eating an orange from one of those packing-box stalls constructed by an innovative Mexican; a hopeful outpost beside a traffic light. Julia had never bought anything from those stands in her life. Trying not to show her disapproval, she strode over to Gabriel. The stallholder, a diminutive man of about fifty, his face a map of sun and poverty, his clothes still dusty from the drive across the border, sat on an upside-down milk crate, a small portable radio filling the air around him with tinny Mexican pop serenades, voices from a whole other world.
The vendor looked critically at Julia then back at Gabriel. ‘Tu novia esta bonita, pero es muy vieja, hombre. (Your girlfriend’s pretty, but she’s old, man.)’
Gabriel grinned, knowing that Julia didn’t understand a word.
‘Si! Pero como yo lo veo las mujeres son como el vino, entre más viejo mejor (Yeah, but good women are like a good wine, they both get better with age),’ he replied.
Both men broke into laughter, which infuriated Julia as she sensed the joke was about her.
‘Gabriel, you had no right turning up at an event like that. How did you get in anyway?’
‘Actually, I was invited. I was sponsored by Xandox, remember?’ He plucked another orange from the stall and threw it to her. ‘Here, have an orange. What’s the big drama? Bedelmayer liked me, plus it just might inspire him to throw some more money your way.’ He looked down at his trousers thoughtfully. ‘Did I overdress?’
He lifted one trouser leg and Julia saw that he was wearing lime-green socks. He grinned.
‘I figured I’d never get in in my jeans,’ he went on. ‘I heard a rumour Bill Gates might be there. Maybe if we go back in, I could find him and tell him about my computer modelling idea?’
‘No! Now, do you need a ride home?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Is that a yes or a no?’
‘Well, yes in that I’m not really into the one and a half hour ride back on the bus; and no as in do I really want to sit next to a pissy woman for an hour? Admit it, you’re angry.’
‘Furious. But don’t despair, with that kind of audacity I’ll probably be knocking on your door in about ten years’ time asking you for a job.’
‘Probably,’ he replied straight-faced as they reached her car.