living room than a workplace. Cleveland has a shabby but comfortable-looking leather sofa in his, a big rug on the floor and lots of picture frames on the walls. I am too nervous to take them in properly, but there is a beautiful set of medieval illuminations. And nature—water, mountains, trees. Perhaps Scotland, or Canada.
“Giles, I’ve brought our new assistant professor to meet you. Anna Lieberman.”
“Professor Cleveland…”
In a split second I debate with myself whether to extend my hand or not, and decide on a gut feeling that I will not. Reserve seems a better strategy here than familiarity. He sits at his desk—not a particularly tidy desk—and looks reluctant even to rise from his chair, let alone to shake my hand. Eventually he does get up, and my heart beats faster, nervousness becoming tinged with alarm. Tall I knew him to be, but up close his six-foot-something towers above my five-foot-four like Gandalf over a Hobbit. A Celt, with light eyes and dark hair gone prematurely gray. There is nothing remarkable about his appearance, except that a tall man, halfway between gangly and gaunt, will always look good in light brown cotton pants and a blue shirt, open at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves. Next to him I look like a complete klutz. I am furious that I have allowed Elizabeth Mayfield to put me at such a disadvantage.
I nerve myself to smile up into his face. His features are lean and regular but not wildly handsome, and there is nothing charming about him at all when he looks down at me—on me, too—with that particularly English brand of polite dislike and says, “Dr. Lieberman. How do you do. I was…told of your appointment.”
The sound of that well-educated, faintly nasal English voice hits me in the middle of my body and contracts the muscles of my womb in a spasm of response.
I feel a spate of explanations and justifications rushing to my tongue. I want him to know that although I have been foisted on him I am sure that we will get along well, that I will do my best to honor the confidence the college has shown in me. But I say none of these things. Could not, because my tongue is in knots, and do not want to, either, suddenly, because he is so pompous and unwelcoming to a junior colleague who really cannot help the situation at all.
“How do you do, sir.”
He blinks, as if taken aback. “I assume you’ve been well looked after?”
“Yes, sir, thank you.”
“Right. Well, then…” Get the hell outta here, bitch. He does not say it out loud, but I can see the words forming behind his forehead. Evidently Cleveland hasn’t been told yet that he is to play Mother Goose to this gosling.
“Can you spare a few minutes, Giles? The least we can do is make sure Anna has a smooth start, and I was hoping you’d show her the ropes.” There is an edge in Elizabeth’s voice now, a note of admonishment, which he hears and, to my surprise, heeds. He comes down from his high horse and suddenly looks very much younger. He looks at a loss, almost vulnerable, with his soft gray hair curling in wisps behind his ears, and his broad, lean, boyish shoulders.
“By all means. Dr. Lieberman, won’t you sit down?”
It is all I can do not to clutch Elizabeth’s skirt to beg her not to leave me alone with him, but she closes the door behind herself and we are alone. In very non-companionable silence. He points toward the sofa, which has clearly been chosen to make people feel small. Its seat is very deep, so I can either perch on the edge, looking nervous, or sit back, in which case my feet will hardly touch the floor and I will look like a five-year-old. I choose a mid-position, put my bunch of keys on the low table in front of me and hope Cleveland will not see my hairy little Hobbit-feet.
He stands over me, reluctant, a very remote fortress, like Isengard.
“Would you care for a cup of tea? Hot tea, I should say.”
Actually, I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. But you only have one chance to make a first impression, and when a senior colleague offers you a drink, you accept. Besides, I have to acknowledge the gesture of an Englishman making an effort.
The water in the kettle on the sideboard apparently just boiled, so