I've been very good at keeping the last several pieces largely free of Selina Beri. Seeing that she's in Cambridge and I'm in Oxford and we're not communicating, this omission is largely one of necessity rather than choice. However, seeing that I think about her and dream of her every day, this omission is also a bit of a charade. Life's messy that way. I cannot, however, avoid talking about Selina Beri in this piece, because she's returned to my life.
Though unbidden, Moss had kept me up to date on whatever Cavendish gossip concerning Selina Beri has come his way with infrequent, but often alarming, text messages.
'Noste is not very happy these days, what with the time Beri is spending with the American Simonette chap... The Cavendish Lab Jazz program has suffered...' would be a typical message from him on October.
By November they were running like, Beri and Kate have gotten to be best friends... All to the good, of course, but it means that Kate is far more guarded in her comments about Beri – shares less with me – not that I see Kate all that much these days, what with all my work – but Gallagher, my lad, whatever you feel about Noste’s chances, – and you've seen him operate as Fiddler Green, he can be decisive if he wants, so don't discount him completely, he might just well be the canary in the mine... But of course, my hands are tied. otherwise my instinct would be to accidentally bump this Simonette chap into the path of an approaching bus...
Knowing Beri's reputation at Oxford, I was not greatly alarmed, though during my time at Oxford Beri pretty much avoided company... Still, if I was to survive my last two years at Oxford, I'd have turn a blind eye to all of this and just trust my quantum entanglement. A boyfriend was pretty much an eventuality, in any case, or so I told myself. Indeed, if I was to be jealous of everyone who fell in love with Beri – with everyone who enjoyed her company while I could not, my life would be very unhappy. I would just have to live on trust and hope, and physics. Lots of physics.
The thing to keep in mind, I told myself, was that Beri, Noste and Simonette were working intensely together on Darneby's project – they'd naturally be spending a great deal of time together, not just in the lab, but socially as well, so I thought Moss was taking a needlessly alarming view of things. He tended to do that since I believe he felt he had his Sunday morning predictions to protect.
I'm trying to get Beri to commit to coming over to Oxford for the Li Qui lecture, but so far, no go. Will keep trying.
'Good luck with that,' I wrote back. I doubted she would come, given her insistence that we remain apart for at least one term, and her unwavering policy to date.
The Li Qui lecture Moss mentioned was to be a special guest lecture to be given on the first Friday night in December by Professor Li Qui of Beijing University on the quantum qualities of dark matter. It was a new and fascinating field of investigation in which Dr Li Qui was the leading figure, and his lecture was promised to be one of the highlights of the term. Moss was organizing a gang of Cavendish grad students to drive over on Friday afternoon to attend the lecture and then make a night of it afterwards. I'd agreed to find accommodations for his crew, lining up friends to offer sofas and floors where the Cambridge gang could crash for the night. Knowing my limitations, I, in turn, begged O and Ali to help me make these arrangements, as modest as they were. O, of course, jumped into the fray – this was something quite up his alley, an opportunity to widen his circle of acquaintances... Ali graciously agreed to find places for the girls to stay, while O and I arranged accommodations for the guys once we had solid numbers. O also insisted that we make arrangements to entertain our guests at college, dinner before the lecture, and a meeting room afterwards, for discussions. I delegated these arrangements to O.
Late Sunday night, the weekend before this lecture was to take place, I received this email from Moss.
Kate had a group of my friends from the lab, including Selina and Simonette over for dinner tonight, Gallagher. You've met Simonette, so you know he's a pleasant enough fellow – has a sense of humour, on occasion. Handsome in a Clark Kent sort of way – which is to say he could be handsomer than he usually is when he wants to be... Thinks in 24 dimensions, if you know what I mean, and talks in 24 dimensions as well. I can stand him for 20 minutes at a time, without a pint or two... I might even come, in time, to sort of like him. But you've met him, so I needn't go on. What you've been spared, Gallagher, my lad, is seeing the way Beri acted in his presence tonight at our dinner... Very unnerving. Revolting, really. I'd never believe a girl of Beri's intelligence could act so silly around a man. Any man. She simply was gaga around him and he was soaking it in. Even Kate noticed it, but refused to talk about it afterwards. That unnerved me even more. Something's in the wind, Gallagher. Something that needs to be snipped in the bud before it gets out of hand. I’m telling you this not merely because I’ve got my reputation as a prophet on the line in this affair, but as a friend – you need to do something – heaven knows what. Untie my hands and I’ll put him under a bus.... I don’t think I want to spend a week with Simonette and his kids... I hope I’m a hysterical old maid on this...
Moss was alarming me now – but what could I do? For all of my 22 years, I’ve lived a life that a monk would have little to blush about – not that all these years are monkish by choice – so what do I know about women? I had succeeded with Beri so far by letting things well enough alone. Like it or not, I could think of no better policy.
The next evening, I got a further note from Moss.
Asked about the lab. Common knowledge about Simonette and Beri. I'm going to have to have a long talk with that young snip of a girl of ours, Gallagher.
I hastily wrote back, Whatever you do, don't do it! Repeat, don't do anything!
He wrote back the following day. I had a rather long, and, I'm afraid, a rather contentious and unpleasant talk with Beri today. The good news is that she's agreed to join us for the Li Qui lecture. It'll give you a chance to talk to her yourself. Lord knows what it'll accomplish, but then she must see something in you that the rest of us don't, so I'll not despair just yet. Remind me never to play the prophet again...
Well, if the prospect of hosting a dozen Cambridge grad students for a weekend hadn't made a nervous wreck of me already – and it had – the prospect of seeing Selina under what seemed to be dire clouds, certainly made a complete job of it.
I considered asking Ali to ask her cousin what was going on, but realized that I'd no right to spy on Selina. (Moss was doing so already, uninvited, and I'd know soon enough, anyway.) We were friends and nothing more, no matter how much I wished otherwise.
It was the longest week I can remember ever living. Only the fact that O and Ali had arrangements well in hand saved me from complete despair and bolting. I never thought the prospect of seeing Selina Beri would be so frightening.