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His phone rings, and we hear Pauline answering it outside. Evidently Harry has told her we aren’t to be disturbed—something he’s never done before.
There’s another pause before I finally say, “I guess whatever way you package it, I don’t have much choice do I? I mean, Acellerate aren’t going to leave the program in London just because my girlfriend has changed jobs. And if I walk away from it, that’s the last seven years of my life down the tubes.”
He doesn’t answer me directly, which I take as confirmation. Instead he says, “Look at me, Mark. Fifty four years of age. A little battle-wearied, a little scarred. But I’ve had my fifteen minutes in the spotlight. If it was just about me, I wouldn’t have bothered trying to find a new partnership for the institute last year. I’d have just taken my chances with Government funding and hoped for the best.”
I swallow. Harry has never spoken so directly to me before and I find his modesty humbling.
“But the Institute’s not just about my ego or anyone else’s. It’s about the work we do. The science. All our research programs have the potential to transform peoples’ lives. And of all the programs we’re running,” he regards me significantly, “yours is the most likely to make the most revolutionary impact.”
I regard him closely.
“You’re the first cab off the rank, Mark. It’s flattering that Acellerate are so keen to take you off us. You’re thirty four years old and this kind of opportunity doesn’t come along often.”
“It’s a bit sudden, that’s all,” I’m nodding. “I mean, ten minutes ago, my main concern was getting the time sheets in.”
Harry regards me with a look of benevolent expectation.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to the idea.”
“Good.”
“I’ll have to speak to Isabella.”
“Of course.” Harry reaches into a desk drawer, taking out a large white envelope which he hands me across the desk.
“Before you make up your mind, you might like to study the terms and conditions,” he says.
A short while later I’m heading back to my office in a daze. Not only is Harry’s announcement life-changing, the conditions of my appointment are way beyond anything I could have imagined. Almost too much to believe.
As I return through HR, I’m so preoccupied I don’t notice anyone. Even the reek of the stairs passes me by. I’m trying to get my head around the paradox that this is terrible news for the Imperial Science Institute, but an amazing opportunity for me. That Isabella is almost certain to be upset by the same thing that is a personal endorsement beyond my wildest dreams. I hardly know what to make of it.
I return to the poky office which has been my home for the past seven years. The bulging shelves and worn metal filing cabinets. The tiny desk swamped with paperwork. It’s hard to believe I might be about to leave this all behind. That I have, in my hands, an extraordinary offer that could change my life.
Our lives.
I have to speak to Isabella.
