"Men!" Celia said.”Some of you certainly get the best of your ,arrangements.' But you can be blind too.”
The discussion was ended by Yvonne's return. It was not resumed before Celia and her group went back to New Jersey a few days later.
On the day that Celia left, Martin's mother died. She slipped away from life quietly, without warning or fuss. As a doctor at the nursing home expressed it to Martin later, "She went like a small boat that drifts off into the night on a calm sea.”
The calmness, Martin thought, with feelings of mixed sadness and relief, had been present for his mother far too long. It was mental turbulence, not calm seas, that gave life its zest. Alzheimer's had deprived his mother of that zest, and the thought revived, once more, his hopes for the future of Peptide 7. Only Martin, his father and Yvonne attended the simple funeral, and afterward Peat-Smith, Senior, went back to chipping at the block of marble he had ordered and which had been delivered several days before. Martin and Yvonne drove back to Harlow in companionable silence.
In the several months that followed, important decisions were taken at Felding-Roth, New Jersey, punctuated by many transatlantic journeys by headquarters staff. The active ingredient of Peptide 7, which would appear as a white crystalline powder, was to be manufactured in the Republic of Ireland at a new plant for which a site had been chosen and architects' plans were being rushed to completion. The plant would be the first of Felding-Roth's to specialize in molecular biology. Space would be allowed on the site for later manufacturing of the chemical base for Hexin W. - Final production of Peptide 7, in its liquid form and ready for insertion in containers, would be in an existing plant in Puerto Rico. The containers, manufactured as expected by another company, would be shipped there. The overseas arrangements had substantial tax advantages compared with manufacturing in the United States. The overall plan involved an enormous investment which, after doubts and discussions, was approved by the board of directors. At dinner one night Celia explained the doubts to Andrew.”It's money we don't have. Everything's going to be borrowed, and if it goes down the drain, so does Felding-Roth. But we've agreed we have to do it. We've bet the company, and we're in a now-or-never mood.”
There were other decisions, of smaller dimension but important. One concerned a product name for Peptide 7. Felding-Roth's advertising agency-still Quadrille-Brown of New York-began a costly, exhaustive study during which existing brand names were examined and new, suggested ones brooded over, with many being rejected. Finally, after several months of work, a top-level review session took place at Felding-Roth headquarters. On the company side it was attended by Celia, Bill Ingram and a half-dozen others. A small agency contingent was headed by Howard Bladen, now president of Quadrille- Brown, who attended, as he expressed it, "a lot for old time's sake.”
Before the proceedings, Celia, Ingram and Bladen reminisced about the session sixteen years before, when they had all met, and which resulted in the "happy-momma plan" for New Healthotherm, still a steady O-T-C seller and revenue producer. Storyboards and easels were set up in the boardroom to display eight suggested names, each presented in succession, in several type styles. "Among possibilities we've narrowed down," an agency account executive announced, "are names which relate to the brain or human understanding.”
These followed and were: Appercep, Compre, Percip, and Braino. The first three, it was pointed out were derived from "apperception," "comprehension," and "percipience.”
The fourth name was speedily withdrawn when Bill Ingram commented on its similarity to a household product-Drano.
"I'm embarrassed," Bladen said, "and how we all missed that, I'll never know. But no excuses. I apologize.”
Then there were names which, the account exec said, "suggest something brigbt-shining with high intelligence.”
Those were: Argent and Nitid. Two others were: Genus and Compen. The second, it was said, implied that the drug would "compensate" for what might otherwise be missing. An hour's discussion ensued. Bill Ingram liked Appercep, disliked Nitid, was lukewarm about the others. Three people on the company side favored Argent. Bladen expressed himself a supporter of Compen. Celia held back, listening to the others, letting the arguments flow, reflecting at one point on the thousands of dollars all this was costing. It was Bladen who eventually asked, "What's your opinion, Mrs. Jordan? You're one who's had some splendid ideas in the past.”
"Well," Celia said, "I've been wondering why we don't call our new drug Peptide 7.”
Only Ingram had the seniority, and knew Celia well enough, to laugh aloud. Bladen hesitated, then a slow grin crossed his face.”Mrs. Jordan, I think what you've suggested is nothing short of brilliant.”
Celia said tartly, "Just because I'm the client doesn't make it brilliant. It's simply sensible.”
After the briefest further discussion, it was agreed that the product name of Peptide 7 would be Peptide 7.
A year flew by. Clinical trials of Peptide 7, moving much faster than anyone expected, had proved outstandingly successful in Britain and the United States. Older patients responded positively to the drug. No adverse side effects appeared. Now, all accumulated data had been sent to the Committee on the Safety of Medicines in London, and to the FDA in Washington. After careful discussions both at Harlow and in Boonton, involving Martin Peat-Smith, Vincent Lord, Celia and others, it was decided not to seek an official "indication" of the antiobesity effect of Peptide 7. This meant that while the known weight-reducing effect of the drug would be disclosed in information given to physicians, Peptide 7 would not be recommended for that use. Some doctors, it was realized, might prescribe it for that purpose. However, if they did it would be the doctors' own responsibility, not Felding-Roth's. As to a sexual stimulant effect, while repeated tests on animals showed that such an effect existed, it had not been sought during human testing, and was listed as inconspicuously as possible in all submitted data. In both cases the thinking continued to be: Peptide 7 was a serious drug, intended to retard mental aging. Any "frivolous" uses would detract from this important role and diminish the drug's reputation. In view of the flawless results from clinical testing, and the fact that extra indications were not sought, it appeared unlikely that official approval of Peptide 7 would be long delayed. Meanwhile, work on the Irish plant and changes at Puerto Rico were near completion. At Harlow, Martin, while keenly interested in the outcome of clinical trials, had left the details to the medical staff. He was working on modifying Peptide 7, exploring the possibilities of making other brain peptides, a spectrum which the earlier success had opened. Martin and Yvonne were still living together. In January 1980, Yvonne had taken her A level examinations and, to her own and Martin's great joy, passed with A's in all subjects. She had also taken, and passed, the Cambridge Colleges' Examination, this because she had applied to Lucy Cavendish College in that university, and been accepted, subject to exam results. The admissions prospectus had pleased Yvonne with its reference to a "society for women, with a particular concern for those whose studies have been postponed or interrupted.”
In September, having resigned from Felding-Roth, she began attending Lucy Cavendish where she would read Veterinary Medicine. It was now October and she had become accustomed to driving daily to and from her Cambridge classes, an hour's journey. Apart from her studies, a source of pleasure to Yvonne was the blossoming royal romance between the Prince of Wales and "Lady Di," as all of Britain now called her. Yvonne tirelessly discussed the subject with Martin.”I said all along that if he waited, he'd find an English rose," she declared.”And so he has.”