The Weekend - Completed

Chapter 45

Oh shit I'm going to be late, I thought to myself as I rushed through the huge university doors and made my way to the mottled marble staircase and up to the third floor office of Professor O'Neill. I paused a moment getting my breath back and pushing the stray hairs behind my ear, before knocking on the dark mahogany door.

"Come in" came the familiar voice from inside, I opened the door and stepped into the chaos that was Professor O'Neill's room. The air in the room was heavy with dust, with the entire space camouflaged with old, heavy text books and journals strewn across every available surface and in high piles on the floor. Trying to find the professor amongst the literary debris was like trying to find Wally.

"Oh good Alex it's you, come in and take a seat." The disembodied voice came from under the huge oak desk holding pride of place in the centre of the room, as he emerged from the floor he was holding a folder like a trophy, the jubilant expression on his face and the thick dust on his brown cord trousers showing his search had been a long one. Regaining his composure he held his hand palm up and indicated for me to sit in one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. I smiled and tried to plan my route through the assault course so I could make it to the chairs without injuring myself.

"Thank you for coming in this morning" he said smiling warmly at me as I finally made it to the safety of the seat, I wasn't quite sure if he was happy to see me or just happy I hadn't been buried in an avalanche of precariously piled books located in several positions around the room .

"I won't take up much of your time, right I've called you here because I'd like to discuss your progress this year." I took a deep breath and chewed on my bottom lip nervously, I'd made a real effort since coming back after the summer but I guess I had fallen so far behind last year it just wasn't enough.

"I have been really impressed with your work ethic and the improvement you've made this year." I could hear the approval when he spoke; I blinked my disbelief wondering if I'd actually heard him right. "So I'll get to the reason I asked you to come in during your holidays, an opportunity has arisen which I feel you may be interested in." On cue there was a knock on the door, not waiting for a reply the door opened and in stepped a vaguely familiar fellow student who I was certain I'd seen around.

"Hi Joel, come in I'd like you to meet Alex, I told you about her." He nodded towards the vacant seat next to me; after making a graceful and confident passage through the death trap that was the professor's office, he sat next to me and with an easy smile he acknowledged my presence.

"Good to see you've tidied up since I was last in here, sir." Joel chuckled quietly to himself in a self-assured way as he surveyed the room. I was so shocked at the casual way in which he spoke to the professor, I felt my mouth pop open and my eyes widen.

"I'm not messing, this is VERY tidy for him, I've been in here at least a dozen times and this is the first time there's been an empty chair for me to sit on, the fact there are two is blowing my mind." I found myself smiling back at him.

"I am an academic not a cleaner." The professor snapped back sounding like a petulant child. "Now less of the chit chat, did you read Alex's dissertation?" He raised his eyebrow expectantly, clearly a little pissed at Joel.

"Yes I did, I read it twice actually." Then turning to me he added, "I thought it was really, really good." He nodded several times to emphasize his point; I was quite offended by the surprise in his voice, I frowned wondering to myself who was this prick to pass judgement on my work, and more to the point why exactly was I here?

"Yes it was" The professor quickly agreed, I felt certain he must have seen the scowl I'll aimed at Joel.

"Joel here is in the final year of his doctorate, and despite being a brilliant mathematician unless he makes drastic improvements to his thesis he is going to fail." I looked between the two of them still confused as to why I was here hoping at least one of them would enlighten me. When I eventually caught Joel's eye he smiled a little pathetically and shrugged his shoulders very nonchalantly, without realising it I was staring at him incredulously, how can he be so relaxed knowing he was failing? I continued to gawk at him until he ran his hands through his short blond hair nervously and shuffled in his chair uncomfortably.

"Anyway Alex, for an undergraduate the standard of your writing is excellent, it is both eloquent and concise. What I propose is for you to work with Joel to rewrite his thesis, as I said his maths is sound but his explanation and arguments are hard to decipher from his ramblings." Then holding out the folder of work he'd found earlier he offered it to me.

"Here see for yourself" I took it off him and began to read, although the first paragraph was only twelve lines long I had to read it three times and it still didn't make any sense to me.

"Erm, I'm sorry but I didn't understand what I was reading." I admitted a little embarrassed.

"That's exactly my point" Professor O'Neill gushed enthusiastically.

"No, that's not what I meant; I didn't understand the content rather than the composition of the English." As I looked at both of them in turn I could see my tutor thinking over what I had said, whilst the confused expression on Joel's face made me doubt if he knew what 'composition of English' even meant.

"I think you are selling yourself short here Alex, I am confident if explained to you the maths is well within your grasp. Whereas I think improving Joel's English to an acceptable standard would be a far more arduous task." I continued to think over what he had said.

"What about a trial? The two of you work together and in a couple of weeks you hand me in, shall we say the first ten pages re-written so it is legible." He smiled brightly at the two of us pleased with his suggestion as he relaxed back into his battered old leather chair.

I still wasn't convinced, yes I was thrilled at the confidence my favourite teacher had shown in my ability but I really wasn't sure I could spare the time, I had my own course to pass.

"You will of course get full accreditation in his thesis if you decide to take it on and obviously a glowing reference from me." He watched me closely whilst I considered his offer.

Yeah the accreditation would be nice, but both the professor and I knew it was his reference which was the real prize on offer, and in the end something I couldn't turn down.

"Okay, I'll work with him on the first ten pages and we'll see how it goes, but I will need to put my own work first." I said the last part more to Joel, as he needed to know I wouldn't be at his beck and call.

"Of course, I'd expect nothing less." He let a slight impressed smile creep across his face before addressing Joel.

"Right, well now that's sorted I think you should take the girl for a coffee; to show her just how grateful you are for her help and to draw up a work schedule."

I was glad of the minimalist look of the cafeteria after the claustrophobic clutter in the professor's office. I don't think I had ever seen it so empty, the normally bustling establishment was deserted except for Joel, me and the elderly waitress behind the counter.

"Why don't you see if you can find a seat and I'll get the coffees." Joel Said sarcastically, just loud enough for the old woman to look up from her sudoku puzzle book and glare at him.

"Oh right yeah fine, but I'd rather have a tea, thanks." I corrected before sitting in the nearest table.

Five minutes later he returned with the two drinks and two gargantuan double chocolate muffins.

"You really do need my help." I observed before laughing at my own joke.

"I want to be a mathematician not an author." His sulky, petulant tone perfectly mimicking that of the professor earlier. I waited for him to get over his little tantrum before pushing him about the exact details of what he needed me to do.

"Basically, I need you to put my jumbled, incoherent genius into a logical, articulate work of literary masterfulness." I looked disbelievingly at him wondering why, if he could come out with such a load of crap to me, he couldn't write his own bloody thesis.

"I'm not very good at communicating my thoughts into written words." He clarified, as if reading my mind.

We chatted whilst we I finished my repast and by the time I have swallowed the last mouthful of my delicious but calorific treat, we had decided to meet up in the library at nine o'clock the following morning and crack on. The easiest solution I thought would be to get him to explain what each paragraph meant; from there I could put his words into sentences that actually made sense...simple, or so I hoped.