Inheritance

Chapter Sixty-four. A Startling Revelation

Chapter Sixty-four 

A Startling Revelation 

Rachel dressed for the occasion as if she were about to take notes at a board meeting. She wore a navy blue business suit over a ruffled pale blue blouse and carried an official looking brief case. John was seated, reading one of the lurid Sunday papers when she entered. He rose from the small round table. Rachel noticed that thankfully he had given up his wild Texan attire for more conservative garb. He guided her to the opposite side of the table and in gentlemanly fashion seated her. 

"Can I get you a drink?" 

"A G and T would be fine." 

He made his way to the bar and returned shortly with Rachel's drink in one hand and a lager in the other. His hands trembled as he placed the glasses down. The lager overflowed and the foam cascaded on to Rachel's skirt. 

"I'm so sorry. Let me get a napkin." 

Rachel stood. He quickly returned from the bar. He looked down at the stain on the upper thigh. He reached to dab it dry. Rachel intercepted. 

"Please let me pay to have your skirt dry-cleaned. It's the least I could do." 

"I don't think that will be necessary Dr. Gregson. Most of the foam came off on the napkin." 

"Come on, Rachel, enough of this doctor nonsense. We have known each other for years and we're not at work now. Please call me John." 

"I'd rather not." 

"You must be joking." 

"No I'm not. If you want me to work for you, it has to be on a professional basis. Are you okay with that?" 

"I'm not, but I'll agree to anything to have you working for me. You see I need a highly skilled scientific secretary for this work and you just fit the bill." 

"What sort of work are you contemplating?" 

"A book." 

"On what?" 

"Well the tentative title is 'Micellular Catalysis'." 

"That sounds like an instant best seller."  

John laughed. "I know it sounds obscure but it is the one area in which I am acknowledged to be an expert and I would like to get my ideas in to print while I may."  

While I may? What a strange thing to say, thought Rachel.  

"So how do I help?" 

"Well I will need you to prepare the manuscript and occasionally drive down to Manchester, to the university library, to do some literature searches for me." 

"When you say prepare a manuscript do you mean type up from your notes?" 

"I'm afraid not. You wouldn't believe the deterioration in my handwriting that occurred in graduate school. It's only fit for doctor's prescriptions now. You will have to type from my dictation." 

"And where may I ask will this dictation take place?" 

"In my flat." 

"I think not. " 

"Well where?" 

"It is possible to reserve space at the central library. We could work there." 

"If you insist?" 

"I do. Now what about these trips to the university library? Surely it would be more efficient for you to go." 

"It probably would, but I really have trouble with long distance driving." 

"What sort of trouble?" 

"I cramp up like you wouldn't believe." 

"Shouldn't you go and see a doctor about this?" 

"No need. I know what it is. I've got all the classic early symptoms; tripping, spilling things, occasional slurred speech, just like my mother." 

"Oh no, John. Not you too."