Girl Unknown(57)

I was passing Alan’s office, the door open, and heard him call my name.

‘Listen, I have to go,’ I told her. ‘I’ll call you back shortly.’

Before she could stammer a reply, I hung up.

My head was like a jar of bees with what-I-should-have-said and what-I-should-not-have-said scenarios. I knew, entering Alan’s office, that he had listened to my interview and was about to reprimand me.

To my surprise someone else was there, waiting, it appeared, for me to arrive.

‘Niki?’ I said.

She sat rigidly, her hands clasped, a little startled, though she must have known I was coming. Alan told me to take a seat.

‘Niki came to see me about something,’ he told me, ‘and, rather than me feeding you the information second-hand, I thought you’d like to hear it from her for yourself.’

I could tell Niki was intensely uncomfortable from the way she shifted in her chair, as if trying to avoid my gaze. It was obvious she didn’t want to be there. Alan prompted her with a gentle cough.

‘I’m withdrawing from the PhD programme. I’m sorry.’

PhD students have been described to me by Alan as ‘the holy grail’: the more quality PhD students we ‘complete’, the better it reflects on the institution’s reputation and on our chances for funding. Losing Niki was not just a personal defeat, it was an institutional failure.

‘But why?’ I asked.

‘I’ve been offered a fellowship at Trinity.’

‘You never said anything about applying elsewhere.’ It seemed to me that Niki had grown shifty, not meeting my eye.

‘I’m sorry, David. I was at a Royal Irish Academy meeting in January, which you were supposed to be at. Afterwards I was approached by a professor from Trinity. It’s not that I went looking. I’ve been unhappy for some time, but whenever I wanted to discuss it with you, you seemed too busy or distracted.’

I don’t think, even with hindsight, that I was too busy or distracted to talk to Niki about her work. To me her argument was self-serving. ‘I think you should reconsider, Niki. You’ve made good progress on your work here. By all means accept the fellowship, but defer. Finish your research here first.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t really want to do that.’

Alan dropped a sheaf of papers on to his desk as if he were swatting a fly. ‘Niki says she tried to meet with you, but you didn’t make yourself available.’

‘Well, there was that one time I couldn’t see you,’ I said to Niki, then turned to Alan: ‘I had to cancel, but it was only the once.’

Niki said, her voice gaining a little strength, ‘There were other times when you were unavailable. And it’s not just that. I was hoping to be more included in the research unit, and to play more of a contributing role in the department.’

‘But that’s all to come,’ I said.

‘I just don’t feel I’m getting the support I need,’ she said in response.

I said, in my defence, ‘I’m sorry to hear that, but a good deal of research is self-led independent learning.’

‘I need regular rigorous feedback,’ she said, as if she had rehearsed it.

‘Can I ask you to reconsider? We’ve already made some excellent progress.’

‘I’ve made up my mind,’ she said, avoiding my eye.

We talked for a few minutes more, but nothing I said seemed to appease her. Finally, she stood up, and Alan nodded his assent. She held out a hand and I shook it, with some annoyance.

‘I’m very sorry about this, Alan,’ I said, when she had gone. ‘Is there no way of persuading her to stay?’

‘I tried. I explained the process, how it makes us look.’ He sat down heavily. ‘Of course we’ll have to carry out an internal investigation.’

‘Is that really necessary?’

‘She was the vice-chancellor’s fellow, for God’s sake!’ He spread his hands across the desk. ‘We’ll have to form a committee and formally sign off on her release from her research with us.’

‘I don’t know what to say … I can’t believe she didn’t come to me before.’

‘Apparently, she tried.’

‘I can check my emails but, really, I don’t think I missed anything.’

‘It’s disappointing,’ Alan said. ‘I just hope we can make up for her departure in some way.’

‘We’ll certainly try,’ I said, in an effort to sound positive.

He appeared distracted, and I took it as my cue to leave.

‘One other thing,’ he said, as I got to my feet. ‘The radio interview this morning …’

‘You heard?’

‘I’m afraid I did. What on earth came over you?’

‘I’m sorry, Alan. I was very tired. I slept badly last night …’

My voice petered out, silenced by the weight of concern in his stare.

‘The timing couldn’t have been worse.’

I apologized again.

‘I’ll have to speak on your behalf to the dean. I’ll explain the pressure you’re under at home.’

I dropped my eyes, uncomfortable at the unspoken assertion that I had allowed problems in my personal life to pollute the working environment of the department.