Chapter 1
Professor McHale always gave us strange assignments, and of course this one was no different. What the colour orange had exactly to do with the structure of DNA was simply beyond my understanding. Honestly, it completely puzzled me for weeks causing me to send numerous emails to said professor for clarification. I’m pretty sure I’m on some list of troublesome students that’s shared among the lecturers at my university. “These students always have an excuse for their absences”, “These students never hand in their assignments in on time”, “These students ask too many questions”. I would fall into the latter group.
We were given a little over four weeks to hand-in our assignment but I was totally out of sync with my usual preparations. If you forgive me for bragging but I’m only trying emphasise my point, I’d say my planning skills are usually pretty impeccable. However, this time I spent most of my time trying to catch up after I finally got a somewhat reasonable response from the Professor – “Think outside of the box Abi. KR, McHale Sent from my iPhone”.
Most of this was done in the Cruiseform library – one of my university’s smaller libraries – just off Euston road. This was my branch of choice as it was almost an unknown part of the university. I hadn’t seen more than a handful of people in there at one time, probably owing it to being opposite the main and much larger university library. Whenever I entered the Cruiseform, the librarian would give me a knowing smile as if welcoming me back as an esteemed member of an exclusive club - and it really did feel like an exclusive club.
It became my routine in the weeks preceding the assignment to study there. I barely got up from my seat most times but after one especially long day I took a break and stretched my legs for a while.
Getting up from the desk I was nestling at, which was just in view of the librarian’s desk, I left my laptop and took a short circuit around the bookshelves. Walking through the aisles the damp scent of the numerous vintage books clung to my nostrils. Each book was squeezed against each other whilst being tightly hugged by the oak furnishings.
I browsed the bookshelf headings with each of them getting seemingly more eccentric as I went along. “Cuisine”, “DVDs of films by country” and finally “French hypnotism”. "French hypnotism" had stopped me in my tracks. It warranted further inspection. I slowly picked up one book on the bookshelf - “Hypnotism in France” by “Marcel Dematin”.
As I lifted the book from it's home, I was also lent the opportunity to glance over at where I'd been sitting. The hole left by the book's absence made an ample viewpoint. I wasn't afraid of losing my spot because as I said the library was pretty empty. It was just a curious response. I wanted to see what my “library nest” looked like without me being there. I mean how often do people get that opportunity to see something of yours when you aren’t present. But to my surprise my seat was indeed filled by someone else.
The seat filler...
I stood transfixed.
It only took a couple of seconds and my laptop had been moved and there he sat. He was bellowing to the librarian opposite. I wondered two things: if I knew this person and judging by the tone of his voice, whether he had any idea that this was a library. I could only see the back of his head. His short tightly curled black hair was styled in a way so commonplace making answering my first question futile. What did however set him apart was that he wore a distinctive red quilted jacket. I had to plan my next steps.
