Book of Lost Threads - By Tess Evans Page 0,19

Oxford. I was there for five years and then came back to Melbourne.’

Moss nodded again. She’d gleaned this much from the 55 publications.

‘I came back because of a woman I was seeing. She was one of my post-grad students, another Australian. Her student visa expired and she decided to move back home. I sounded out a few Aussie universities and landed a job at Melbourne—my old stamping ground. Different from Oxford, you know. Not as well funded, but it’s got some top academics.

‘To cut a long story short, this woman met someone else. I was furious. Well, you can imagine . . . I’d given up my post at Oxford because I thought we had some sort of future together, and within six months she was off to South Africa with a structural engineer.’ For the first time since Moss had met him, he raised his voice. ‘Have you ever met a structural engineer? No? You don’t know how lucky you are. They’re the most boring people. And think they’re God’s gift. What would they do without maths? That’s what I’d like to know. The mathematicians do all the groundwork and the engineers take all the credit with their flashy bridges and—and stuff.’

Moss was a bit taken aback. It had never occurred to her that structural engineers could be so venal. There was a whole world out there where such declarations might be considered odd, but here, in Finn’s kitchen, she found herself cheering for the mathematicians.

‘Go on,’ she encouraged. ‘What happened then?’

‘Well, life became a bit complicated. For some reason, I never had much trouble finding a woman. You’d be surprised how many women are interested in maths,’ he added quite guilelessly.

Not so very surprised, Moss thought as she looked at his dark blue eyes and hollow, high-boned cheeks. Despite his bad haircut and daggy green jumper, her father had a sort of wistful charm and vestiges of a physical beauty long since disregarded.

Finn continued. ‘Annetta—that was this woman’s name— she was special, I really thought she was the one. Should’ve known better. Anyway, I’d always been a drinker. Especially during my student days.’ He grinned despite himself. ‘I remember Linsey insisting I give up the booze while I was ah . . . employed by her. Kept my word, too. Even though she’d never have known.’ Finn looked at Moss expectantly.

She was beginning to read him. ‘I’m glad, Finn,’ she responded. ‘I’d hate to have been born an alcoholic.’ She wasn’t sure that this was an issue, but was eager to please.

‘Yeah. I smoked a bit of pot, too. Just a joint with friends every now and then.’ He patted his pockets. ‘I need a bit of Dutch courage for this next bit. Do you mind if I smoke? Tobacco, I mean. I’ve given up pot. And alcohol too, for that matter. Another one of Linsey’s prohibitions,’ he added, indicating the cigarette that he rolled with practised fingers.

‘One night, I’d smoked a couple of joints with some friends and was feeling, you know, pretty happy. Then, just after they left, I get this phone call from Annetta. She couldn’t even tell me face to face. I’m leaving, she says. I’m sorry, she says. I’m going to South Africa with Pieter Langeveldt. I’ll get my things tomorrow when you’re at work.

‘I just put down the phone and poured a whisky. It was like I was watching myself from the ceiling or somewhere. I remember thinking, I’ll feel this tomorrow. Then I had another whisky and decided I’d go over to Pieter’s place. If she was there, I’d talk her out of going with him. If she wasn’t there, I’d punch Pieter in the nose. It seemed like such a brilliant plan at the time. Win-win, I think they call it.

‘So I jumped in the car and headed off for Langeveldt’s. He was only a few blocks away. I could have walked. Should have walked. But I didn’t. And that’s how my life changed.’ Finn drew hard on his cigarette. The ash was perilously long and Moss began to understand how his jumper had come to be punctuated with all those little black holes. She stared at the cigarette because she couldn’t bear to look at his face.

His voice was flat now. ‘Just around the corner from Pieter’s, a girl ran out in front of the car. I didn’t see her until it was too late.’ He inhaled slowly—a long, painful breath. ‘I can still hear the thud. It’s an

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024