Experiment? He twitches his lips at my round-eyed goggling.
“For my own purposes, I would like to see if I can turn an academic sow’s ear like you into a silk purse. I need to know if the effort is worthwhile, or if I should just abandon workshy little layabouts like you to their fate in future. I think of myself as a Henry Higgins of the university establishment.”
“Oh, so I’m Eliza Doolittle. The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain,” I say absently.
“Quite.”
“I don’t think he spanked her into elocutionary excellence though, did he?” Sinclair frowns. Oops.
“It is not your place to question my methods,” he says superciliously.
“Right. Sorry,” I say, needing to keep my credit with him above zero.
“You know, you could have spoken to me about it,” he says. “Asked for my advice. I might have been able to speak to your warden – Beresford, is it?”
I nod, sudden hope alighting my dismal gloom. “Well, I couldn’t really, sir,” I say. “I couldn’t have asked you.”
“Why not?”
“You’re completely unapproachable.”
“I see.” His eyes flash and I wonder if he is changing his mind about sticking with the plan. I shiver involuntarily. “I do have a solution to your predicament, you know.”
“Really?” I lean forward expectantly, wondering if he is going to lend me the money. Top bloke!
“I have a spare room here.”
My jaw drops. He can’t mean…
“You could stay with me.”
“But…isn’t that…frowned upon?”
“No,” he says. “It’s a reasonably common situation, in fact. It’s not as if you’re sharing a bed with me. Though even if you were, there is little untoward in that. There is no rule prohibiting staff/student relationships. You aren’t children. However immaturely you might disport yourselves.” No need for the pointed look.
“I…er…” I have no idea what to say to this proposition. I can’t live with Sinclair!
Reasons against: Constant breathing down my neck; will probably make me have a curfew; won’t let me smoke in the house; will hassle me about spending habits; might want me to be his skivvy and do all the cooking/cleaning.
Reasons for: I might get to see him naked.
“OK,” I say.
“Good,” he smiles slyly. “Now I can keep a proper eye on you. We can have a determined campaign to eliminate some of those bad habits of yours.”
My heart sinks. I like my bad habits. They’re like friends, keeping me warm on long and lonely nights. Clearly I have just made the worst decision of my life.
He rises from the sofa and heads off to the corridor. “I’ll just get some shoes on and we can go and collect your things,” he says.
“Now?” I prevaricate, urgently needing emergency crisis talks with Dearbhla and Emily in the pub.
“No time like the present,” he admonishes. “Is there?”
Chapter Three
Underwear, iPod, hair straighteners, selection of clothes, incense burner, teddy bear, poster of Che Guevara…suppose I won’t need the traffic cone…oh, and I’d better pack a few books just to show willing.
Sinclair took quite a lot of convincing to stay in the car while I do a rapid minesweep of essentials prior to diving next door into Dearbhla’s room and seeking sane advice. I check my watch; I’ve got fifteen minutes. Sinclair is coming in after me if I’m not back by ten.