She urged, "You don't have to give an answer now. Why not take time to think about it, and talk it over with Yvonne?" "I'm afraid the answer's definite," Martin said.”It has to be because I need to tell you something else. I wish I could have picked another time, but here it is. I'm resigning from Felding-Roth.”
The news shocked Celia.”Oh, no! That can't be true.”
Then she looked at him sharply.”Are you going to another pharmaceutical company? Has someone made a better offer? Because, if so-" He shook his head.”I wouldn't do that to you. At least, not without discussing it first. What I'm doing is returning to an old love.”
"He means Cambridge, not another woman," Yvonne said.”We're going to live there. The university is where his heart is.”
And where I plucked him from before you knew him, Celia thought. She had been unprepared for the news, but instinct told her there would be no dissuading Martin, so she wouldn't try. Cambridge had called; he had responded like a homing pigeon. Well, on a sunlit Sunday thirteen years earlier, she had won a victory against the university. It had proved a worthwhile victory all around. But time's wheel had spun; now it was Cambridge's turn, and Celia and Felding-Roth had lost. Andrew spoke, addressing Martin.”I always thought that academia might call you back one day. Will you be master of a college? I read somewhere that there are vacancies.”
"There are," Martin answered, "but not for me. At forty-six I'm still young for a mastership. Maybe when I'm older, grayer, more illustrious...”
"Goodness!" Celia exclaimed.”How illustrious do you have to be? You've had a major scientific breakthrough, accolades worldwide, a knighthood.”
Martin smiled.”Cambridge has seen all those things many times. The university is not easily impressed. No, I'm going in under something called the 'New Blood Scheme.'" It was a government-sponsored program, he explained, through which he would become an assistant director of research in one of several new, frontier areas of science. The salary in the new post, as was so often the case in academia, would not be large-to begin, less than ten thousand pounds a year. However, the Peat-Smiths would be comfortable because of Martin's substantial Peptide 7 income, and he would undoubtedly use some of it, he said, to supplement his department's research funds. Several months earlier a settlement for Martin had been worked out by Felding-Roth's financial officers and lawyers in New Jersey. The arrangement had received Celia's approval and, later, the board's. Under British law-the Patents Act of 1977-Martin could have applied for a court award of compensation for his Peptide 7 discovery. But he hadn't wanted to go to court, even amicably, nor had Felding-Roth. Therefore, by agreement, an offshore trust fund of two million pounds had been set up in the Bahamas from where money would flow to Martin regularly. The fund was hedged around with legal moats and barriers so that Britain's confiscatory taxation system would not, as Celia expressed it, "rob Martin of his just reward.”
That just reward, she now thought ruefully, had helped open the way back to Cambridge. She suspected, though, that Martin would have made the same decision whether the Peptide 7 money were available or not. Before Martin and Yvonne left to drive home, Celia said, "Felding-Roth will miss you both, but I hope the four of us will always stay close friends.”
They agreed they would.
Prior to Celia and Andrew's departure from Britain, one final matter was arranged. Several hours after Martin and Yvonne had gone, and close to the Jordans' bedtime, there was a knock at the apartment door. It was Lilian Hawthorne. Sensing that Lilian wanted to be alone with Celia, Andrew discreetly disappeared. "I'm glad you talked me into coming to England," Lilian said.”You may have noticed that I've had a good time.”
"Yes, I have," Celia said. She smiled.”I was pleased to see Rao enjoy himself too.”
"Rao and I have discovered that we like each other-and it may be even more than that.”
The older woman hesitated.”I suppose you'll think, because all of it has happened so quickly, and at my age, I'm being foolish...”
"I think nothing of the sort. What I do think is that it's time you had fun again, Lilian, that you should enjoy life any way you want, and if that includes Rao Sastri-fine!" "I'm pleased you feel that way because it's about that I came to see you. I want to ask a favor.”
"If I can do it," Celia said, "I will.”
"Well, Rao would like to come to America. He says he's wanted to for a long time. I'd like it too, and if it were possible for him to work at Felding-Roth...”
The sentence was left unfinished- Celia completed it.”It would be convenient for you both.”
Lilian smiled.”Something like that.”
"I'm certain," Celia said, "that a place can be found in the new genetic labs. In fact you can tell Rao I guarantee it.”
Lilian's face lit up.”Thank you, Celia. He'll be delighted. He was hoping for that. He knows he doesn't have the leadership qualities of someone like Martin; he told me so. But he's a good support scientist-" "I'm aware of that, which makes it easier," Celia said.”But even if he'd been less than he is, I'd still have done it. You did me a big favor many years ago, Lilian, my dear. This is a small one in return," The older woman laughed.”You're talking about that first morning we met? When you came to the house-so young, so brash, hoping I'd help you become a detail woman, by influencing Sam?" Then she stopped, a catch in her voice as, for both of them, so many memories flooded back.
Early the following morning a chauffeured limousine conveyed Andrew and Celia to Heathrow airport.
EPILOGUE
In the 747's first-class section the trappings of luncheon had been cleared away. Andrew, after leaving his seat briefly, returned. He told Celia, "I was thinking in there"-he waved a hand in the direction of the airplane's toilets-"how we take so many things for granted. When Lindbergh made the first successful transatlantic flight, which isn't all that long ago, he had to stay in his seat and urinate into a flask.”
Celia laughed.”I'm glad that much has changed.”
She regarded her husband quizzically.”Is that all? I sense some philosophy aborning.”
"You're right. I've been thinking about your business-pharmaceuticals. I had a thought or two you might find cheering.”
"I could use a little of that.”
"People like you, hemmed in by pressures," Andrew said, "get so close to what you're doing that there are times-and I think this is one-when you're apt to see the storm clouds only, and forget the rainbows.”
"Remind me of some rainbows.”
"That's easy. You brought one to me when our life together started. Lotromycin. It's still in place, as good a drug as when you let me be the first to use it--effective, lifesaving, needed in a doctor's toolbox. Of course, no one talks about Lotromycin any more it isn't news; it's been around too long. But add it to others from then onward and you have a cornucopia of drugs, so many of them since the 1950s that medicine's undergone a revolution. I've lived through it, seen it happen.”
Andrew considered, then went on, "When I graduated in medicine seven years after World War 11, most of the time when we had sick patients all you could do was provide support, then stand aside and hope. There were so many diseases which doctors had no weapons to fight, it used to be frustrating. Now that isn't true. There's a whole arsenal of drugs to fight with and to cure. Your industry provided them.”
"I'm hearing music," Celia said.”Play more.”
'Okay, take hypertension. Twenty years ago there were a few, limited ways to treat it. Often they didn't work. Lots of times hypertension was a killer. Now, treatment through drugs is unlimited and sure. The incidence of stroke, which hypertension caused, is down by half, and dropping. Drugs are preventing heart attacks. They've stopped tuberculosis and ulcers, improved the diabetic patient's life. In every other field of medicine the same is true. So many good drugs. I prescribe them every day.”