Daisy Miller had never stepped foot in a university lecture theatre in her life, but she was beginning to think there was something quite thrilling about it. She shivered as she glanced around. There was an air of anticipation about the upcoming lecture on Roman history, of excitement even. Of something else that skittered up her spine.
The lecture hall was filling up fast, so fast the only remaining
seats were up in the back row, yet people were still pouring in and finding
gaps in the aisles where they sat on folded-up raincoats and bags.
Alongside her, Michelle pulled a book out from her shoulder bag and
began reading.
Daisy glanced again around the lecture theatre. Although — something
seemed a little out of place, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She looked
at the women to her right. To the women in the rows in front of her. Shot a
discreet look at the women behind.
That was it. She elbowed Michelle.
“Ouch.”
Michelle fake-rubbed her side. “What is it?”
“Do
you realize there are hardly any men in here? The women outnumber the men by—”
She spotted some male faces. “Ten to one. How weird is that?”
Michelle glanced up briefly. “It’s not weird. History is dull. When I
was at school only girls took it.” She looked back down at the book, her head
nodded in agreement and she reverently turned a page.
Daisy scrutinized the flyer in her own hand. It showed images of
Hadrian’s Wall, the Roman Circus, and a gladiator. She had no great interest in
things Roman but this public lecture had seemed like something to do. Kate, one
of her few loyal customers at Poppy’s books,
had thrown a couple of flyers at her and mentioned the lecturer was her
brother, back in Auckland from a year's sabbatical in France. Daisy had almost
thrown them away until she’d flicked through the pile of envelopes on her
table, with bills from the power company, the insurance company, the water
company, and thought ‘what the heck’. This lecture was free, and if they were
using a young Russell Crowe on the advertising, then they were clearly
marketing it as some sort of entertainment. Free entertainment was pretty good
right about now. And the picture of Russell Crowe on the front — although it
was blurry — well, she'd never admit it in public but it was enticing.
Daisy glanced again at the book Michelle was reading but it wasn't
familiar. “Did you get that from my shop?”
“Good
grief, no.” Michelle gently closed the book. The white satin-shiny slipcover
was decorated with mauve flowers. “This is ‘The A to Z of Guys and Girls’. It
was all over social media. I ordered it on-line, but you can get it in e-book,
too.”
Daisy raised her eyebrows. “How can an intelligent woman like you get
sucked in by this rubbish? It's self-help psychobabble.”
“Whoa
there, girl.” Michelle held up her hand in a Stop gesture. “I’m in no position
to call anything that gives me an edge, ‘psychobabble’.” She cast an
unrepentant look around the lecture theatre. “And I’ll tell you something else.
Reading this book beats what’s ahead of me here any day. I regret I agreed to
come along to hear this dreary professor go on about togas and chariots and...”
She waved her hands around. “All that ancient history. It’s my future I’m trying to get a handle on
here, not someone else’s past, and certainly not from some ageing professor.”
“He’s
not old. Kate’s not even forty, and he's her younger brother.” Daisy glanced
again at the flyer. Dr Joel Benjamin had a Ph.D. from Yale, was published in
prestigious journals, had overseen an archaeological project in Italy, and
during his year in France did a stint advising on the film being touted as the
new-but-historically-accurate Gladiator.
He was currently editing a book: Tarquinius
Superbus to Cato the Elder: Revisionist Heresy.
“Holy
crap,” Michelle suddenly exclaimed.
“What?”
Daisy looked around them. “What happened? What is it?”
Michelle gestured weakly to the front of the theatre. “That.”
Daisy followed her gaze over the heads of the women — and the
occasional man — and it landed on—
She pressed her lips together tight to stop her mouth falling open.
This was… He was…
Michelle snapped, “You didn't tell me the guy looks like that.”
Daisy stared, unable to look anywhere else. She let out a long
breath. So this is what that air of
anticipation had been about.
“I
didn’t know. It never occurred to me.” Her throat nearly seized up. “How could
I have known that he was so… That he looked so...”
She turned to Michelle. “How is that even possible when his sister is Kate?” She felt guilty thinking that —
let alone saying it. Kate was tough. Tough in looks and tough on the courtroom
floor. That her brother had not inherited some of her — pronounced features —
was surely some freak of nature.
Daisy glanced back down at the leaflet. She stared at the picture and
realized it wasn't a younger Russell Crowe on the cover at all.
It was him. It was Kate’s brother.
(AMAZON LINK HERE)
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