Ross doesn't tell Rachel
Ross didn't know what to do. He went back to his office and closed the door, trying to think. He was stuck in an office next door to Emily for six months — not only that, he had to supervise her. That meant seeking her out, checking up on her work. Talking to her. Getting involved with her. Caring about whether she did well or not, because her performance reflected on him. He shook his head. How could he do that? But he had to, once in a while.
Perhaps he could go to Professor Slattery and tell him — tell him that Emily was his ex wife so he couldn't supervise? But it wasn't as though he was responsible for marking any of her papers or grading her in any way. Supervision meant making sure he was available to her, making sure she wasn't wasting her time. Making sure they looked good to the Cambridge people.
So maybe she would be the one to complain about being supervised by him? But whether she complained or he did, everyone would know about their past. People with long memories would remember the story, which tended to make him look bad — and ridiculous — in the retelling. Then there had been the fallout from the divorce — which had led to his current position, so perhaps not all bad — but that still made him look bad. He would not be able to say anything sharp to anyone without them thinking he was going to go mad.
As for Emily, she might not like people to know about her link with him — she'd been snotty enough about it. He felt a sense of injury at her reaction. He hadn't expected her to be like that — he'd expect her to have fond memories of him, in spite of everything because he was a great guy, even if he did say so himself. If he'd imagined a meeting, he had thought that well he had never really thought of it — but perhaps that she'd want to see him, like she'd said in her last phone call. And what about that? He hadn't been looking for a ring and he hadn't noticed one.
He shook his head. He had no interest in Emily's husband. Whoever that might be. He could only hope that she was as well prepared on her methods as she claimed so that he'd be able to have as little to do with her as possible.
He managed to avoid her for the rest of the day, even though he was aware, the whole time, of her presence in the next room, unbearably close. Every now and then, he heard the sound of her voice, slightly less English, if that made any sense, without being in any way more American. People from around the department were dropping by to say hello.
At home, Rachel asked him about the new PhD student.
What?' Ross asked, unpleasantly surprised. What did she bring that up for?
You said last week that you were getting a new PhD student from Cambridge.' If she knew that, he must have told her. He probably had. It was only when he talked about people at work that she was able to follow what he was talking about. Anything to do with his work and her attention would wander, unable to follow him.
Funny you remember that,' Ross said.
Well it's the only thing I can understand out of the things you say about work,' Rachel said. So did he arrive?' Interesting that she assumed the student was male.
Er yes,' Ross said playing for time. He would then begin by saying that the student was female and thenWhat's his name?'
Scott Drury,' Ross said. Did he just say Scott Drury? Aside from the fact that he had no idea who that person was, or why he'd seized on that name, he had just avoided telling her who the PhD student really was.
That's good. Maybe you can invite him round for dinner one night, maybe if we have your department head over.' He knew that Rachel didn't really mean it — the proposed dinner for the department head had been mooted several times, limited by the fact that Rachel really couldn't cook. But the idea of inviting Emily home made Ross jump.
No, absolutely not.'
Oh come on Ross, don't be mean,' Rachel said. She didn't really care about the student but somehow, him saying no so emphatically made her want to insisted. This guy's alone in a strange country. Well it's not that strange, but it's a long way from home and a home cooked meal.'
You? Do a home cooked meal?'
Okay I'll order in,' Rachel said, But it would be nice to be friendly to this guy. He might be feeling a bit lost.'
He's been to New York before. He knows his way around.'
Oh well, that's good,' Rachel said. You don't seem to like him. Did he annoy you?'
Yes, yes he was very annoying. I just can't stand his accent and I'm going to have to listen to it for six months.'
Oh, Ross,' Rachel said, amused.
Yeah, and — and he's got no manners, none at all. You wouldn't want to meet him. I won't let him meet you, no way.'
Okay, Ross,' Rachel laughed, You've made your point. He'd made his point by telling lies — but hopefully, it wouldn't matter.
