Aurorarama - Jean-Christophe Valtat [14]
They both remained silent for a while.
“I have a problem with Professor Corkring,” said the girl.
“That makes two of us,” said Gabriel while dusting off, as casually as he could, some traces of a white volatile powder he had noticed on his desk.
“I have shown him my work, the work I had started with you.”
“You should not have.”
“I know that, sir. He asked me what I was doing and wanted to see it. He gave me some suggestions about it, and …”
She glanced up at Gabriel in embarrassment, and suddenly he realized that he was putting her through the same kind of ordeal that he had endured this morning when facing the Gentlemen of the Night. He encouraged her with a smile that may have looked like a grin, because a little more time elapsed in silence.
“And …?”
“He told me that you wanted to steal my ideas.”
“Which ones, my dear?”
The girl lowered her head. Once again, he felt cruel and remembered he should try to encourage her, if he wanted to know anything.
“So you know that is not true, I hope.”
“Yes,” whispered the girl.
“Very well. Did he suggest something else?”
“He said that what you were interested in was … you know …”
“I do not.”
“… going beyond professional relationships.”
“I don’t think I have ever given you any cause of alarm on this point.”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly, and, Gabriel felt, or liked to think, almost regretfully.
“So you know better.”
“And then, he said he could help me, because he knew the subject very well and also knew a lot of people who could be very useful to me, if I were to keep on working with him.”
“On this, he did not lie. He knows a lot of people. And so I take it that you were interested.”
“I did not want to work with him. But I did not know how to refuse.”
“Et tu, Phoebe …” said Gabriel, pointing an accusing finger at his student. But that did not make her smile, as it was vaguely intended to do.
“I was evasive as long as I could be, but last week he …” She stopped, stumbling on something that immediately attracted Gabriel’s attention.
“I’m all ears,” he said softly, now beginning to enjoy himself.
“I came across him in the college swimming pool and he asked me what … I should not tell you that.”
“It is only fair that you do. I need to hear it,” Gabriel said, as benevolently as he could.
Phoebe blushed a light pink.
“What would I do if I saw him naked.”
Ha ha. That was it. He’d known it all the time. One more of those old lecherous teachers, Gabriel judged, with all the unforgiving harshness of a middle-aged lecherous teacher. A snowcaine angel was prompting him to say “I hope you answered that you would vomit,” but the effect was starting to wear off, and the angel had now a feeble voice that he could overrule if he chose.
“I don’t know what to do,” said Phoebe, as if to herself.
But Gabriel knew what he had to do.
“It’s very simple. You go and work with him.”
“But I wanted to work with you,” said Phoebe, turning a lily-white shade of pale.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble. And I don’t want to get into trouble because of you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, and looked as if she were about to weep.
Seeing this, the snowcaine angel found another entrance to Gabriel’s brain.
“Please, don’t,” he said, getting up and walking toward Phoebe. He took her by the arm and sat her next to him on the red plush sofa, whose springs let out a scandalized squeak. “Let us see if we can solve this.”
“I beg your pardon,” she said, holding back her little selfish tears.
“I don’t want you to beg. I want you to earn it,” he said, his voice slightly trembling. She looked at him inquisitively.
“First, it deserves a good spanking,” explained Gabriel, laying her firmly on his lap without feeling much resistance, only some surprise and a slight hesitation.
Now maybe, dear reader, it would be more becoming in you to leave the room, and I would advise you not to look back on the scene if you can help it: were you to linger and witness, for instance,