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The last of Kate’s usually considerable composure returned as the message was repeated; returned only to slip treacherously away as she saw him shoving his way through the crowd with the belligerent energy of a tug in high seas. The puff of grey hair was exactly as it had been in her most recent picture of him: from the front of Time magazine; the pebble glasses not quite masking the piercing blue eyes she had inherited from him, the horrible pipe, the shapeless jacket, all as she remembered them. Only he was shorter than she, even allowing for her medium-high eminently sensible heels. There was a lump in her throat which became painful at the first whiff of his foul tobacco.

His eyes swept over her and on down the information desk. There was no one else near it, so he came towards her. As his hand went up to remove his pipe, her reserve broke and she threw her arms around his neck.

“Daddy!”

He stiffened, pulled away, his face a mask of surprise, then he gave a great whoop of joy which turned every head in the airport, and hugged her like a bear.

“Katherine, Katherine, where did you spring from? Well now, just you wait here for a moment, I’ve another woman to find. I could swear she just tannoyed me. Edwards, that was it. Edwards. Now where in the world can she have gone?”

“Daddy . . .”

“Tannoyed me. Just heard it. Told me to come here. Perhaps there’s a message, perhaps that’s it. Miss? MISS?” To the girl behind the information desk.

“Daddy, I must speak to you, I . . .”

“Yes, yes, dear. Lord, I hope nothing’s happened to her. MISS? Best set of references I’ve ever seen. Jon Thompson and old Brown­low fairly foaming at the mouth. Probably got a face like a coal bucket. MISS!”

“DADDY! WILL you pay attention! I’m the one you’re here to meet.”

He looked at her in genuine horror. “Oh my God! If I’m here to meet you now, when was I supposed to meet this Edwards woman?”

Kate almost screamed. Instead she took a deep breath. “Daddy; now listen. Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You are here to meet me because I am Elizabeth Edwards. NO! Do not say a word. The references you have had from Jon Thompson and Professor Brownlow are about me. They wrote the references because they thought I should get the job, and we made up the name Elizabeth Edwards because we thought you wouldn’t give the job to your own daughter. They have both written to you explaining. I have the letters.”

“But why? I don’t understand . . .”

“Partly for my thesis which is on the effects of extreme cold on certain of the simpler algae, but mostly to see you.”

“But I need an assistant, not a daughter! The work on fast-breeding phytoplankton must be completed before the winter sets in, and I have to get back to the laboratory. Kate, go back to England at once, and send over this Elizabeth Edwards, even if she has got a face like a coal-scuttle. She sounds like just what I need!”

“What precisely is your work on, Daddy?”

“What? Oh, my basic brief is alternative foodstuffs, and I’ve come up with some interesting protein and productivity readings on simple phytoplanktons.”

“The Chlorophyceae?”

“Oh yes, some of them . . .”

“Protococcales.”

“Yes, that’s right . . .”

“And Ulvales.”

“Yes! Precisely! I have a reading of more than 0.3 per cent on some of the larger flagellata! But wait a minute, how did you . . .”

“Because as it says in my application under my name Elizabeth Edwards, I have been researching protein levels in diatoms in general and phytoplanktons in particular myself, in my lab in Oxford.”

The doctor lit his pipe. It took him several moments. Then he said, “So it was you who got eighty-seven in your Final Botany paper?”

“No, Daddy, that was you. I got eighty-six. Your record still stands. Moreover,” she linked her arm through his, “only one other person has come within five marks of us for more than ten years.”

“Where are the letters from those so-called friends of mine?” he asked gruffly. “They’ve landed me right in it. I wish you did have a face like a coal-hole. My God, some of those men up at Barrow haven’t seen a woman since Christmas!”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I hope so; I really do. Now, if I accept that the academic references are accurate, what about the other stuff?”

“Field trips to Norway and Greenland? Quite correct.”

“You,” he said, “are too good to be true.”

“Oh Daddy! Ever since I can remember I have been working as hard as I could especially so that one day you would think I was too good to be true!”

“Me? But why? Never mind. Here’s someone I want you to meet.”

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