Inheritance

Chapter Thirty-One. The Eccentric Professor

Chapter Thirty-one

The Eccentric Professor

After many hours of overtime, lengthy sessions on the running track, and numerous hikes on the Lakeland fells during the summer, John was solvent, fit, and unattached. He felt ready to face the challenge of his final year. But what if...?

John approached the Honours notice board with some trepidation. He knew he hadn't performed well in the second year exams. Had he messed up so badly that they had thrown him out of the honours class? No marks were posted, just a brief note inviting five students to meet with various faculty members. His name was one of the five. His meeting with Professor Lawrence scheduled for two fifteen that afternoon. By the appointed time, he had convinced himself of the worst - his dream of a research career was over.

Nervously he knocked on the office door. No response. He knocked again, this time much harder.

"Go straight in," said a grad student, who had heard him knocking from an adjacent lab. "He's probably forgotten to switch on his hearing aid."

The old academic, seated behind an immense oak desk littered with opened journals, was so engrossed in an article he didn't notice John enter. He was so like Einstein - the same shock of grey hair, horn-rimmed glasses, pipe, and shambolic clothing. John coughed. The professor looked up, raised a hand to acknowledge his presence, and without saying a word moved over to his bookshelf, to retrieve a book from one of his many antique piss pots.

"Only way I can remember where I put them," he said, giving John a shy grin. "So what can I do for you, Gregson?"

At least he remembered his name.

"I'm supposed to meet with you at two fifteen."

"Oh yes. Wait a second while I find your record. It's here somewhere."

"In a piss pot, Sir?"

"Ah, here it is," he said, picking up a crumpled piece of paper from his waste paper basket. "I knew I'd put it somewhere safe. Why don't you sit down whilst I remind myself?"

John sat directly in front of the professor, his heart pounding as he struggled to breath in the tobacco-laden atmosphere.

After finishing his scrutiny of the document, Lawrence lowered his glasses to the tip of his bulbous nose, and gazed directly at him. He shook his head.

"It's that bad?" said John in a tremulous voice.

Lawrence didn't respond.

"Am I done for?"

"What do you mean 'done for'?"

"Am I out of honours?"

Lawrence's gaze returned to John's academic record . "Your lab work up until last term was excellent. What happened? How do you explain all this breakage?

"I had a lot of trouble with the microscale kit, Sir."

"That's no reason to kick you out. From what I see here you deserve to stay in honours. I think with some remedial work in Physical Chemistry you may even be able to squeak out a second class degree."

John leaped from his chair and let out a string of "yeahs" punctuated with pumping fists.

"This isn't Wembley, Gregson," said Lawrence, urging him to sit down again. "We have to strategize."

John complied, eager to plan.

"In the coming year you will be taking advanced topics in Physical Chemistry. You should avoid the theoretical chemistry courses - your math isn't up to it. Concentrate on non-mathematical areas such as Chemistry of Colloids, Radiation Chemistry, and Reaction Mechanisms.

"But won't that restrict my choice on the final exam, sir?"

"A little. Exam three covers special topics in physical chemistry and you are required to answer any five questions out of twelve. Two questions are set by each of the six professors involved, so if you concentrate on four topics you should have an adequate choice."

"Do you have sample exams?"

"Yes. I had my secretary prepare a bundle for you. I also have placed you in my tutorial group along with your lab partner, Dave Taylor. Is that okay?"

"That's fine. We're in the same digs, so we'll be able to study together."

"Good. Now I expect to see you and the other members of your group at two in the afternoon, every Friday, starting next week, at which time we will review some Organic Chemistry. Would you mind starting us off?"

"How, Sir?"

"Maybe you could prepare a fifteen minute presentation on... Where the hell did I put that list? Ah here we are." It was under his desk blotter. "How about the stereochemistry of nucleophilic substitutions? That sounds sexy. Do you think you could manage that?"

"I'll give it a shot sir."

"Good. Now be off with you. Don't let me down. I've stuck my neck out for you."

As he made his way back to his new digs, John ruminated over that parting remark. Obviously, some faculty members had asked for his removal from the program and Lawrence had come to his defence.

He would show them.