The 13th Tablet

As she sat in the restaurant to have breakfast, the waiters kept glancing at her while she poured herself some tea. She jotted down a few notes in preparation for the interview as a means of refreshing her memory. She had always made a point of never reading her notes at presentations or during teaching sessions as it helped her moderate her talk based on her audience’s reactions. She checked the interview venue in the document emailed to her by Nigel’s secretary. It read ‘11.a.m. Foundation Grant committee — The New York Hall Meeting Room.’ She asked a waiter how to get there and found that it was on the eighteenth floor.

As she arrived at the entrance of the meeting room, a young blonde woman introduced herself as one of the Foundation’s secretaries. She thanked Mina for coming, and told her not to be intimidated by the grand appearance of her surroundings. It was the only appropriate room available for interviews. She then explained that only two members of the committee would conduct the interview and that they were already inside. Mina entered the room and felt increasingly apprehensive as she approached the two men, both dressed in dark suits, pink shirts and silvery-grey ties. They were sitting at the very end of the room, at a table covered with a variety of papers and files. Mina noticed that the secretary had followed her into room and taken a seat by the door.

Mina thought the men looked slightly odd, more like businessmen than academic interviewers. Maybe it was the fact they worked for a corporate foundation. They suddenly noticed Mina and rose to greet her.

‘Miss Osman. Thank you for attending this interview. My name is John Gridlam and this,’ pointing at his shorter, fatter colleague ‘is Bill Rowley.’

‘Thank you for inviting me, I’m honoured to be here. It was quite unexpected and I only received the invitation by email a few days ago.’

They seemed surprised and concerned. ‘Do you feel up to it? Would you like more time to prepare?’

‘Not at all,’ lied Mina.

‘Let’s begin then,’ said the taller of the two men.

They ran through her former application for the internal grant at Columbia, and asked her what she intended to do and how she would carry out her research. She answered as fully as she could. They asked her about her future projects, and seemed happy with her answers. She then spoke about all the extra funding she might need. They nodded appreciatively. She was surprised at how easy-going the whole thing was. ‘I wish I’d known earlier about this foundation,’ she thought to herself. But still she felt a little uneasy; she had anticipated most of their questions but everything seemed a bit vague, and long-winded, as if they were playing for time.

Suddenly, the secretary’s mobile phone rang. As she replied, she walked towards them.

‘Mr Wheatley is in the building,’ she said.

The men stood up immediately, straightened their jackets and tightened their ties. Mina wondered what this was all about and turned to the secretary questioningly.

‘Mr Wheatley is the founder of our academic organisation, the Foundation for Excellence. He’s in Tel Aviv on business,’ the woman explained, ‘and he likes to pop in from time to time during interviews to meet candidates.’

Mina was startled. The secretary saw her face and added, ‘Don’t worry. I think,’ turning to the two men, who nodded at her, ‘that everything has gone very well. Mr Wheatley is a very kind and cultured man, who takes an interest in all aspects of his business.’

She then walked back across the room and took her place by the door. Mina felt her hands begin to shake as she stood up beside the two men.

Oberon Wheatley arrived a few minutes later. As soon as he entered the room, his electrifying energy seemed to cast a spell on all those present. He was taller than both men, who had rushed up the room to meet him, followed more discreetly by Mina. He was wearing a tailored winter suit, evidently from Saville Row, and smiled as he greeted Mina, showing off his gleaming white teeth and strong jaw.

‘What a pleasure to meet one of Columbia’s most promising students.’

‘Thank you sir,’ said Mina.

‘I have read your resum., and was mightily impressed. Do you know that with your languages and intelligence, you could easily get a very well-paid job in the business world?’

Mina smiled.

Turning to the men and the young woman, he asked, ‘How did it go?’

The men were about to answer, but the secretary was faster.

‘We are happy to say that Miss Osman has made a very satisfactory impression on the committee, and confirmed our original thoughts on the matter. We just need your signature to approve the grant and release the funds immediately.’

She showed him the papers.

‘Excellent,’ said Wheatley, signing the papers. ‘Right. That’s sorted,’ he concluded as he glanced at Mina. ‘Are you free for lunch?’ he asked, straightening up.

Mina was flustered, the whole thing had moved so fast.

‘Yes, of course.’