Catch Your Death. Mark Edwards

was laughing and crying at the same time. A First! With a distinction! She wanted to call everyone she knew to yell the news down the phone, to dance in the streets and scream ‘Look what I did’ to all those snobs she’d encountered at Oxford, all those snooty men who thought women couldn’t be scientists, that Marie Curie had been the exception to the rule.

      Leonard grinned, and forgetting herself, Kate leaned over and hugged him.

      ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I’ve made your shoulder wet.’

      ‘I assume those are tears of happiness.’

      ‘Yes. Yes.’ But then she thought, If only Stephen was here to share my joy, and her tears became ones of sadness. Leonard offered her a handkerchief, so she dried her eyes, and he waved at her to keep it. Sniffing and trying to compose herself, she looked at Leonard and had this overwhelming urge to ask him something – but when she opened her mouth, the question had vanished. She knew there was something she needed to ask him, not just about the fire and Stephen, or the Unit closing down, but something that had happened before, while she was staying at the Unit. If only she could drag those memories from her useless brain.

      Before she could get upset about it, Leonard said, ‘I have something very important to talk to you about, Kate. It makes me very proud to see that distinction in virology. And I know how proud your father would be. Viruses are one of mankind’s greatest enemies, and to be involved in their study, in the fight to understand them and find ways to stop those harmful strains, well, I’ve always believed that this is one of the most important scientific fields. One of the most exciting too. And things have moved on so much since I was young.’ He saw her attention waver and said quickly, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you all about what it was like when I was a lad.’

      ‘I am interested . . .’

      ‘It’s okay. I don’t want to talk about me right now. This is about you and your future. Kate, you could have a brilliant future in this battle against viruses. You could do a lot of good. An awful lot of good. The field needs people like you, with brains and vitality. And you have that something extra, don’t you? A personal connection. Because of what happened to your parents. Dear Derek and Francesca.’

      She waited for him to go on, wondering if perhaps he was about to shed a tear. But he quickly regained his composure.

      ‘I do hope you won’t think me presumptuous, but as soon as I heard your results, I got on the phone to an old friend of mine at Harvard University. Professor James Scott. The man’s a genius, and Dean of the Immunology and Infectious Diseases faculty. I told him all about you, Kate, and he wants to meet you. He’d like to see if you’d be interested in a position as a researcher in the department.’

      ‘Oh my God. But what about my MSc at Oxford? I’m supposed to be starting that in October.’

      ‘Wouldn’t you rather go to Harvard?’

      ‘Yes, of course, but . . .’

      ‘Kate, don’t worry. I’ll sort it all out for you. And, in fact, again, I hope you won’t think I’ve been presumptuous, but I’ve already booked you onto a flight to Boston. I’m told you’ll be fit enough to get out of here next week.’